
Illustration from “De Homine” by Rene Descartes
no pain like the pain
broken bodies relocate
inside of the mind
thoughts that hurt for the thinking
afflictions of memory
Illustration from “De Homine” by Rene Descartes
no pain like the pain
broken bodies relocate
inside of the mind
thoughts that hurt for the thinking
afflictions of memory
“Aura of Autumn I” by Leonid Afremov
melancholia bathes
in a bracing cold rain
briskly tingling with
freshening ionized air
but the cleansing
won’t reach
underneath and within
well-bruised skin
can’t revivify
withered black bones
of too many necrotic
stilled summers
(originally posted October 2013)
“Untitled” by Clyfford Still
some days
the mind
is too small
for a thought
to stand upright
no room
in the dark
for the least
bit of light
days like this
should be
sealed up
in little
green bottles
of airless
narcosis
to smother
where not
even poets
can breathe
Artist Unknown
sadness turns into pathology
when tears flow unbidden
in rusty red rivulets
rutting the cheeks
when joy slips and slides
lost of handholds
on woe-heaving hearts
when smiles are stillborn
on quivering sighs
and hopelessness settles
its dullness in eyes
surrendered of light
when even strong judders
of anger and fear
fail to energize spines
and refocus the mind
******************
(originally posted May 2013)
“Man in Black Hat” by David Flam
any white shirt would do
for a black and white stageplay
as long as I got to recite
my lines wearing my old
soft black cowboy hat
crown-pinched and brim-rolled
like pages of scripts my gray
fingers would worry
again and again line-by-line
word-for-word all to memorize
life in the hope that some
slightest applause
might redeem the dull effort
(originally posted December 2013)
“Depression” by Tanya Dawn
in the dark
of the night
place and time
for ablutions
of tears
a purge of the
pain from the
crippling strain
upon days
sorely hobbled
by holding
false postures
of cheer
in the dark
of the night
place and time
for a wash
of emotions
before that
despondent
deep blue
the discolor
of woe
can set
permanent stain
on the heart
in the dark
of the night
place and time
for this private
indulgence
no room
inside sadness
for love or
its sympathy
no room
for genuine joy
to find sleep
in the mind
“Depression by Morphine” by Ashes Thorense
so tired of clouds
all the years
gray of day
rumpled shadows
who carry the
shape of my name
stumbling seeking
some patch of
white sun and blue sky
someplace soft
someplace dry
free from teardrops
of rain and the
lightning of pain
disillusioned by
weather that writes
this last chapter of life
among trees that can
no longer breathe
all the green
dissolved into an
ashen resolve of
this lightlessness
oh what a colorful
ruse did my long ago
dreams play to hide
this desultory morrow
now stranded in time
discontentedly pallid
so tired of clouds
Writer & Poet Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
You don't know where you are going. You don't know how to get there. And you arrive just the same. Ghanaian saying
Poésie sous les étoiles
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...