Tag: my_poetry

Their Sorrow

delusion on justruminating mens blogLife is
but a show
for stars
the moon
and the sun.

Emotions are
for little kids
as they play
and run.

Love is
just a fairytale
from books
from poems
never to be won.

Living is
just a dream
from which
we never wake.

Feelings are
awful things
their pain
their sorrow
strong they ache.

Love is
but a fantasy
never a reality
never can partake.

Such Pretty Words

Written upon the occasion of  a gentleman completely misreading the nuanced words of a particular young lady.  Poor chap.  Sad tale, this one.

Oh this venom
upon his lips!
See how
coldly
down the back
of his throat
it slips.

Bled from the sun
a nectar he’s found
he swallows slowly
and suddenly
perplexed
he drops
dead on the ground.

Smoke and mirrors
Labyrinth for few
funfair funhouse
with equivocal words
lake waters illusory
cloak and dagger
through and through.

That faraway land
coy foreign way
words gamely penned
vaguely veiled ideas
a premise delusional
and so then
this swift decay!

His blood his tears
the snow they stain
his soul it dies
and will remain
ever and forever
dead with disdain.

Restless Repose

broken on justruminating mens blog
I am broken
my bones
will not endure
this sum of
memories
feelings
thoughts
under the
loveless sun
they are crushed.

Peer long
into this grave
this pit of
despair
this black permanence
no heart is
left there
snuffed out
by potentialities
by unrealities
all great illusions
die this way.

Deep is my
slumber
cold in my
chest it
suffocates me
entombs me
a gathered gloom
is frozen recompense
for all my
imaginations
hopes and delusions
now
put to sleep

I lie in
restless repose
rotting
no lover’s kiss
for me
nay
my woeful screams
are unheeded
unneeded
by anyone that
could matter
did matter
I’m forgotten
in this permanent
filth of despair.

Cold Reaper

coldreaper on justruminating men's blog

I scorn the scowls
of winter’s reaper
steel slicing scythe
his corded calamity!

Who grabs the life
from my chest
a killing clutch
his murderous glee!

Cold stagnant breath
rots my cheek
putrid frigid blight
his icy stagnancy!

Loud howling voice
a solemn knell
the endless tolling
his ringing revelry!

Oh scavenger of
dark March day
die a death
so set me free!

If Ever

ever

If ever I kissed your lips
I’d take your breath away
hide it in a secret place
for all the live long day.

If ever I stroked your face
and stared into your eyes
you’d melt into the sea
under a thousand skies.

If I cupped into my hands
your soft and supple breasts
such rapid pants would escape
and you’d die a thousand deaths.

Should my hands then slowly trace
small circles on your skin
lost you’d be in the need
and never return again.

If ever I tongued you on
that symbol of your lust
you’d quiver and shiver so
such pleasure would be so just.

If ever I touched those lips
and so spent my passions deeds
not one man ever could
satisfy your deepest needs.