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Scrounging Solace
Contributed by
Man_On_High
on
Sunday, 29th January 2006 @ 01:12:45 AM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
Scrounging solace from scraps of remembered talk,
I wander about the bleak January house
from room to eyeless room..
my mind plucking at fragments;
images that would hold it
back from the final zero plunge;
knowing the absurdity of my misery
hoping you will be back-
if but in the small infinities of time
before the light of a new day.
Night is a receding promise.
I search in these vacant hours,
when time is dead,
for small familiar distractions
in printed word or printed page
of the well loved antics of our time together
and find only a keener melancholy-
knowing they grieve in your absence too
without tongue to put to it.
Scrounging broken scraps of solace
from room to heartless room,
a disgruntled disinherited ghost,
I observe the jaded grass below my window
dry and bitter as hope gone sour;
A lone sparrow talking to itself on a dead branch-
Then darkness... and there will come
the swish and glide of someone new;
their steps and voice in the kitchen:
All frantic with a thankful welcome
and the more sedate greetings... of me:
feline - curling myself 'round their insteps.
I will be tired but I will smile and warmly greet them
and bravely ask them how they spent their day-
...not being brave,
they will tell me.
We'll laugh and have a few quick drinks
while hollow I sit.. next to them-
tortured by a dream of you, never coming back.
M.O.H.
Copyright ©
Man_On_High
... [
2006-01-29 01:12:45]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on
Sunday, 29th January 2006 @ 01:34:31 AM AEST
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| Great write. The piece was so lonely. Like you could hear a pin drop; silent, as well. Enjoyable read. Thanks for sharing. Peace, Laura |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Sunday, 29th January 2006 @ 05:18:56 AM AEST
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Well I could read it ten more times and still sit in awe of this powerfull, sensous, tantalizing, mezmirising, incredible write.
Sounds like u-I know things others don't see or at least It felt like u was sitting beside me with each word.
Incredible~
huggs, smiles,
emy |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on
Sunday, 29th January 2006 @ 03:09:55 PM AEST
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How very touching! A haunting write.
Thanks for sharing...
Hope all is well....
Jenni |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by Eternal_Dreamer on
Sunday, 29th January 2006 @ 04:34:14 PM AEST
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My dearest Billy this poem touched me deeply. Tears fall from my eyes for 'twas as if I felt your lonliness, pain and sadness. Do not despair my dear friend. Good things come to those who wait. May your heart reign with the joys of love again real soon.
Sad, yet so beautifully penned as always.
*much love & hugs to u my dear friend*
~*sue*~ |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by wizard on
Monday, 30th January 2006 @ 07:45:24 AM AEST
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a very powerful write.
"I will be tired but I will smile and warmly greet them
and bravely ask them how they spent their day-
...not being brave,
they will tell me. "
continue to ask bravely, bro.
wiz |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 2nd February 2006 @ 06:41:20 PM AEST
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Ah, dearest Billy ... can always count on you for the more melancholy
of thoughts. God, how I felt this piece. Deep within my very own heart
and soul. I remember reading many by you that could do just that.
Express what I have not the mind nor the words to do. And how
expertly you've done it as well. I commend you, dear friend.
Admiringly so !
Always a wonder ... always a thrill ... always a pleasure it is.
~Breezy |
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Re: Scrounging Solace
(User Rating: 1 )
by Silent-No-More on
Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 10:26:56 PM AEST
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Not every one gets this, Billy.... not everyone (I don't think, I mean) comes with an entire, self-inclusive, wholly complete and decidedly separate world stuffed somehow - somehow! - inside them. So many, I think, are contingent upon the world around them... on others... on events... on pariticipating. There are some though, yes - that are, in and of themselves, an entire entity... struggling, often, to figure out how to reconcile themselves with the everything-else. You, Poet, would appear to be one of the latter. And this, then... a glimpse into your world. But only, I imagine, a small glimpse. And that, I think, is as it should be... we inner-worlders eek out onto the page sometimes - but never do we give ourselves entirely away, you know?
Finding this potent,
~Snem |
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