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Conversation with Lorraine

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  • Conversation with Lorraine

    Conversation with Lorraine

    Should I strike you
    As lost, bizarre, confused...
    Without a doubt
    Forlorn and fumbling
    There somewhere,
    But where?
    Within ? without ?
    Should I seem
    beyond beyond
    Or vacant behind
    This glassy gaze
    Believe it
    Or believe it not
    I'm facing
    personal issues

    From my early days

    Perhaps you feel
    That I'm
    Somewhat surreal
    And running from
    And won't confront
    Some petty thing
    Some triviality
    Thats grown too large
    Too great a thing for me
    I'm useless in this situation
    Too be blunt
    Discerning blacks and whites
    From grays
    My helplessness
    May well frustrate
    The eyebrows raise
    And I am lost alone
    Within this maze
    Of personal issues
    From my early days

    So should I cast away the pain ?
    Forget, forgive and put aside
    This weight I carry
    And the scars
    Stride straight ahead
    As Shakespeare said
    "Assume the porte of Mars"
    Would Cyrano be Cyrano
    Without his nose?
    Or an Emperor an Emperor
    With no clothes ?
    In Life we don't
    Cast off
    Our history
    It makes us
    Who we are
    In many ways
    You know that
    It's
    no mystery
    Yet,
    It never ceases to amaze
    We are the sum
    Of personal issues
    From
    Our early days.

    Ed Coruja 08/09/2018
    Last edited by Coruja-the-Owl; 09-10-2018, 11:21 AM.

  • #2
    Wow...Wow and wow...I feel this one and connect. Bless you Ed and feel this one with you Man.

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    • #3
      Thanks, I think my poems tend to be rather more disciplined now because I am not drunk when I write them, but I do miss the old chaotic stuff when I was depressed and drunk.. it seemed more real !

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      • #4
        I feel the shame Police echoing down on the drunken chaotic writing poet, formulating a narrative dirivitive of directive going someplace nowhere soon but now maybe next door to my house in absenteeism of abstract refugeeism echoing isolation in a conduit built on the aquaduct.

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