Lessons of Darkness
O'er cresting notes my lonely whistle treads.
Night birds sing to me their potentate
And lull the drifting images in my head.
All this my emptiness devours,
It feeds upon such times and moods.
My youthful optimism cowers;
Ideals tonight are mere exotic foods.
Do not look for me 'neath street lamps.
I shun the light, as wolves would shun a fire,
Preferring the company of street tramps,
Who seem to understand a man's desires.
So foolish are the rash, deceiving hearts,
Which convince our minds that love is rare,
For not infrequently a couple parts,
Never realizing the secret was to care.
Poetry by Brian Oarr
Read 659 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2009-02-18 at 07:15
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Lecons de Tenebres
In soft darkness my aura of sadness emanates.O'er cresting notes my lonely whistle treads.
Night birds sing to me their potentate
And lull the drifting images in my head.
All this my emptiness devours,
It feeds upon such times and moods.
My youthful optimism cowers;
Ideals tonight are mere exotic foods.
Do not look for me 'neath street lamps.
I shun the light, as wolves would shun a fire,
Preferring the company of street tramps,
Who seem to understand a man's desires.
So foolish are the rash, deceiving hearts,
Which convince our minds that love is rare,
For not infrequently a couple parts,
Never realizing the secret was to care.
Poetry by Brian Oarr
Read 659 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2009-02-18 at 07:15
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Editorial Team |
Rob Graber |