To pray for forgiveness - although you have done nothing wrong.
To regret things you knew were right.
To sacrifice things you should have nourished and sheltered.
To accept the unacceptable.
This is life.
And love....
of shattered hopes and anguished screams.
I used to pass it every day
whilst running happily to play
with my backyard brethren.
Its porch was littered and unclean -
a swing stood there, all but unseen.
Beyond a bent and battered sign
there lived a girl just barely nine,
known to all as Ellen.
She hid the marks of daddys hand
beneath a brocade velvet band.
Inheriting her fathers trait
she proudly learnt the ways of hate.
Childhood torn and taken.
I grew to manhood in those streets
amongst chaotic hardcore beats.
We all were ruled by drugs and drink.
Oh, smog of mind! The outer brink
of that town was broken.
I left the darkness of those parts
and sought my peace in buddhist arts.
In order to escape my bane -
an empty future lived in vain -
bonds of blood I shattered.
The house lay in its own cocoon
untouched by time and healing moon.
I wept for man and child alike,
for one to bear and one to strike.
Hope itself seemed senseless.
Then came one night an awfull call,
my dad lay dying from a fall.
I took the very first of flights.
My hometown, full of poignant sights,
plagued my tear-eyed vision.
I rushed across my parents yard,
all dazed, unfocused, bright and hard.
I leapt the stairs and reached the bed
where life and death fought head-to-head.
And I saw the ending.
Exhausted I fell into sleep
and dreamt of goodness; true and deep.
When morning came I woke to sounds
of childish laughter from the grounds -
life is sweet and bitter.
Too short is life, this failing leap
of flailing arms before the sleep
from which there is no known escape.
And night comes soon with blackened cape,
giving endless shelter.
Poetry by An-ders
Read 482 times
Written on 2010-09-07 at 11:10
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To regret things you knew were right.
To sacrifice things you should have nourished and sheltered.
To accept the unacceptable.
This is life.
And love....
My ruined memories
I knew a house of broken dreamsof shattered hopes and anguished screams.
I used to pass it every day
whilst running happily to play
with my backyard brethren.
Its porch was littered and unclean -
a swing stood there, all but unseen.
Beyond a bent and battered sign
there lived a girl just barely nine,
known to all as Ellen.
She hid the marks of daddys hand
beneath a brocade velvet band.
Inheriting her fathers trait
she proudly learnt the ways of hate.
Childhood torn and taken.
I grew to manhood in those streets
amongst chaotic hardcore beats.
We all were ruled by drugs and drink.
Oh, smog of mind! The outer brink
of that town was broken.
I left the darkness of those parts
and sought my peace in buddhist arts.
In order to escape my bane -
an empty future lived in vain -
bonds of blood I shattered.
The house lay in its own cocoon
untouched by time and healing moon.
I wept for man and child alike,
for one to bear and one to strike.
Hope itself seemed senseless.
Then came one night an awfull call,
my dad lay dying from a fall.
I took the very first of flights.
My hometown, full of poignant sights,
plagued my tear-eyed vision.
I rushed across my parents yard,
all dazed, unfocused, bright and hard.
I leapt the stairs and reached the bed
where life and death fought head-to-head.
And I saw the ending.
Exhausted I fell into sleep
and dreamt of goodness; true and deep.
When morning came I woke to sounds
of childish laughter from the grounds -
life is sweet and bitter.
Too short is life, this failing leap
of flailing arms before the sleep
from which there is no known escape.
And night comes soon with blackened cape,
giving endless shelter.
Poetry by An-ders
Read 482 times
Written on 2010-09-07 at 11:10
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Doreen Cavazza |
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learnings |
