"unblown" poems
It is over. What is over?
Nay, how much is over truly!--
Harvest days we toiled to sow for;
Now the sheaves are gathered newly,
Now the wheat is garnered duly.
It is finished. What is finished?
Much is finished known or unknown:
Lives are finished; time diminished;
Was the fallow field left unsown?
Will these buds be always unblown?
It suffices. What suffices?
All suffices reckoned rightly:
Spring shall bloom where now the ice is,
Roses make the bramble sightly,
And the quickening sun shine brightly,
And the latter wind blow lightly,
And my garden teem with spices.
4.3k
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride:
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
2.4k
Sometimes I forget and the bells are unrung
Prayers unsaid
Hymns unsung
Sometimes I forget and the dirt is unstirred
Sky unrained
Birds unheard
Sometimes I forget and the worms are unfed
Bough unblown
Leaves unshed
Sometimes I forget and your face is unframed
Bed unseen
Stone unnamed
Sometimes I forget and your voice is unstopped
Flowers uncut
Life uncropped
Sometimes I forget and my smile is unfeigned
Nights undark
Days unpained
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
It happened
year
after
year
after
year
...
A calamity would strike
September 28
or at least the week
where the date lands
and usually,
people die,
homes get wrecked
the sky turns grey
school gets suspended
and
I'd be left alone
in the cold dark blackout
just waiting for the day to end
...
Probably, that's why I don't really
look forward to birthdays
...
I didn't really wish for anything
every time it's my birthday
cause I've experienced way too many
of those wishes not coming true
wishing for the rain would stop
or the light to come back home
or a birthday where everyone's safe
The few minutes I had before today started
I tried once more, I tried wishing again
Know that I probably used up all my luck
I probably used up all my unused wishes
all the unblown, unlit candles
just for this one wish I wish for today
"I wish we'd all be friends again"
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
Have you ever wondered tell me this Why – 9, 10
sometimes the bones of the situation – 11, 10
Are better than the flesh of tepid in- – 14, 10
-security Why daisies weep and sun- – 11, 10
flowers face away – 5
A blue shattered glass floor begging to be – 12, 10
set free Rotten cake with melted candles – 10, 10
unblown Hidden TEN word notes inside pa- – 14, 10
-ges of pre-lusted books The revving of – 11, 10
my brain as it meanders In exact- – 13, 10
-ly TWENTY TWO different directions – 10
Away from white sheets of evenly ruled – 12, 10
paper And skeletons of discarded – 15, 10
unintended promises Unmade beds – 10, 10
and dusty floors of disgrace – 7
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 6:39 AM UTC
And I'm sitting in my work parking lot, trying to remember why my headlights don't turn off on their own, I begin to cry.
Not because it's 10 PM in a town that sleeps at 8, or because no one is here to help me, but because I can't remember the last time I laughed.
I'm sitting here, my head low into the steering wheel, crying because I never got to say goodbye to the people who mattered most.
I'm crying because all around me are burnt bridges and broken promises, and my headlights never turn off.
My car is empty, depleted.
We commiserate for a moment, thinking of unblown candles on a death bed birthday. The last whisper of love as it fades behind a crooked smile, her strawberry lips pressed against your neck, you knowing this moment is finite.
The frost on the Windows threaten to give me cold comfort where there is none, I am wrapped in a blanket of empty sorrow and hopeful wishes that will never pan out.
The lights are still on around me, the music, faded in the background, and my broke down car resonates perfectly with the broke down me.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC