Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Conversation with Lorraine

Collapse
X
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • 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.

    Comment


    • #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 !

      Comment


      • #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.

        Comment


        • #5
          I really think that it would be wonderful if that was verse 1 and you wrote another half-a-dozen verses !

          Comment


          • #6
            Caught in this reflection Trapped A fiction of the mind unfolds Of dire unfeasibility Made flesh in memory Clothed in rag tag scraps Of possibility Is this the broad and easy road That leads us to insanity ? A revenge of the spirit Against the weakness of the body Standing stalwart Where once I fled These fantasies fast becoming My daily poison bread And as my mind is aging Drifting towards porosity Will they some day seep Into my personal reality Perception bred from invention A toxic cocktail Lets slip the grip Of withered fingers And into the darkness Of isolation added here because I cannot open a new thread...

            Comment


            • #7
              She saw it in the numbers an allegory divided by Pi
              Caught in the constant
              Constant
              Melody

              He touched her skin hand to hand like silken moment
              A breeze moving down hallway
              Shimmer of light Echos on seas
              Moons mercy silhouettes
              Echo on tidal
              Memory

              Ready to receive
              Ready to receive

              We need to belong
              We need to need

              Belive in this time
              belive in this day like
              It the last

              Keep this memory
              Like its the last
              Caught holding
              capture
              Framed

              Not wanting to get heavy with feelings
              Feelings about
              Self defense
              Feelings pulling me down
              Drawing room moments
              Bringing me near

              Im not doing fine
              Im not going well
              Im lying to all and present
              When asked I pretend to be normal to societies norm

              Present tense
              Cloud forming cumulus
              like a Nimbus
              I am lost
              She is gone


              Gone
              No recognition
              Floating
              Free







              Comment


              • #8
                Nice one...it seems you dont have the infinite recharge problem, it deserves its own thread .

                Comment

                Working...
                X