"burdenless" poems
The greyness is quite soothing,
While at dusk you fly so low,
The pools below are moving,
And leaving ripples as you go.
What limitless freedom you know,
To feel the wind upon your face.
No borders to where you can't go,
Boundless of time and of space.
Oh! What pow'r to rise, and rise again,
And plunge upon your every whim,
Burdenless ever from where you've been,
Clear vision while my own grows dim.
Thank you, my dear sweet wing-ed friend,
For my mind has soared with your flight,
And though this day has come to an end,
I will be flying with you tonight.
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 4:39 PM UTC
It is time for me to depart
brow furrowed, burdens too heavy for lesser men.
So I tell myself in the long hours
without recourse to violence
or prayer.
I have grown soft you see
apparently
as I have almost forgotten the sting
of your love-whip at my back.
My road is not a lonely one
verily,
yet it's travelers have no heart for conversation
since the desert engenders silence from we wanderers.
You alone walk upright,
seemingly burdenless
free
but the desert and I, know
what you keep from the mortals.
You laugh at vengeful passersby
fearing nothing,
everything.
You should not worry over much
as your secret is probably safest with me.
We are walking to the blue mountains
out beyond Rumi's field,
that place where you and I made love
in the days before Christ made you his concubine.
I welcome your scorn, your disgust
lovingly...tenderly
for it proves how much you once loved me.
Though you truly have forgotten our
half healed wounds.
Smiling a child's smile as I tread behind
your bare shoulder of a memory
I recite poetry aloud;
heartlessly
you continue ahead and above.
It's almost over
this journey I began years ago
thoughtlessly
the day I held you close
so our souls could touch.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
once – oh – we were young
glorious an' burdenless
so sweet the youngblood candydness
heroic an' iconic
shouldn't that been written
down on leaves of gold?
tryin to reach the stars
dying in our skies
the purpose orphaned - and of less
than any kind of size
once – oh – I was young
ignoring good advice
called fate to arms & dice
and never and
to-none-the-less
the demons dearly died
the road of burning youngmanhood
so perilous and broad
the pride of lacking country,
ethos or a god.
stupidity! – oh privilege
a bashfool in his prime
i got a glimpse of my turn to good
oh glittering prize
oh heavenly burden of light.
Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 3:23 AM UTC