"flapp" poems
I am a bird trapped in a cage a red hot cage
And I try to break free but the feathers on my wings become scorched so I screech out in pain
then no one can bother to hear me
and I fall back to the floor of this cage and my feet are then set ablaze by the pain
and so I flapp back up to ceiling of my cage to relieve the pain in feet
only for my wings to unable to fully open and I fall back down unable to breathe
parts of my body are burning all around me
me
And so I skeech to the sky Into the blanket of cotton plastered to blue
I know I belong there
yet still I am burning
and burning
and I try and I try
to reach the sky to feel the cold wind
on my burning unhealing body
and I just can’t seem to get it out of my head that everything will be alright
And so I cry out but no can bother to hear me
And I hate them
because they can’t be bothered to help me
yet I love them because I need them
I
need
them
and I just wish to be free to feel the cold breeze on my burning unhealing body
yet I can’t break out of the cage so at night I take turns on each side of my body so one side heals while the other burns
only for the sun to rise in the morning
and I am still left morning
because I hate my life and hate those who can free me
yet loving them because only they have the key to the door of my cage
and so I’m left loving my life because I can only seem to imagine my future where am freed from this cage
this cage
I am tired of only knowing this cage
and I am just now starting to realize that for me hate in love are one in the same
because it is what I hate that I love
I love them
because I need them
and hate them because I need them
I need them
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
My love is of a birth as rare
As ’tis for object strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing
Where feeble Hope could ne’er have flown,
But vainly flapp’d its tinsel wing.
And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixt,
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.
For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them close;
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrannic pow’r depose.
And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant poles have plac’d,
(Though love’s whole world on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embrac’d;
Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramp’d into a planisphere.
As lines, so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.
Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC