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Confiteor (I confess)
Contributed by
spike
on
Wednesday, 16th July 2008 @ 02:03:28 PM in AEST
Topic:
ApologyPoetry
|
An apology for past mistakes,
indiscretions never meant
faux pas meant to humiliate
angry letters best unsent.
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa
(I feel ill with it
sick with it
poisoned by the shame of it
stricken with the guilt of it)
Mix messages confuse us all,
cold silence even worse
I learnt my lesson after my fall
that hubris is my curse
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa
(I feel dark with it
stained by it
crippled by the thought of it
sickened and abhorred by it...)
I carry the burden of my sins,
you carry yours as well
when lovers fight no one wins
and heaven turns to hell
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa
Mea Maxima Culpa,
My most grievous fault.
Copyright ©
spike
... [
2008-07-16 14:03:28]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on
Wednesday, 16th July 2008 @ 02:55:09 PM AEST
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A very interesting write, Spike.... It left me thinking....
Jenni |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by sorrowsofabrokenheart on
Wednesday, 16th July 2008 @ 03:58:03 PM AEST
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| I love the way it reads so easy leaving a smooth after taste, keeps your wanting to read it over and over agian. |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by Puppy_dog_eyes on
Thursday, 17th July 2008 @ 01:58:07 AM AEST
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I loved the tone of this, the Latin serves as a great emphasis to it.
Real craftsmanship to which we should all aspire
Steve |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 17th July 2008 @ 03:14:47 AM AEST
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| I've taken a long hiatus and am trying to come back. As I've read this over 5 times now, I feel myself once again becoming inspired. Thank you. |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by shelby on
Thursday, 17th July 2008 @ 09:42:45 AM AEST
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Spike,
bravo bravo this was enchanting to read and so deeply honest
hugs
Michelle |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by elle on
Sunday, 20th July 2008 @ 11:19:11 PM AEST
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| ahhh & yes this pride, does slander. it prediposes me. . . to be willing to be accountable . . . willing enough to seek. . . to seek out purely, simply choosing an end to our misdeeds. such candor is infectious every breed of doubt set free. . . every neuron geared for clear defense & then to have no need. how can we ever achieve ourselves if we refuse our growth, in the arms of cha-odyssey & carelessness, with reputed strife & greed. . . we must rally to the humanness & sanctify the lesson while enduring all. a catalyst. a seed. relinguishing truth, as the common element, both gentle & serene. a moment spent with splendid care recants a wrong, subtracts the fault. . . the wisest moment of sin & flaw, a world of hurt undone. . . a fault embodied as ones own will set the agent free. a stingy soul, too strong to grieve, does die alone, surrounded by the air of loss, goes suffocating, trembling to the throne. to wade into the temple, vast ocean of relief. . . & must accomodate alone, the universe in all its' prejudice disguised as hungry appetite for endless remedies. . . in every circumstance a rectification, a calming of these seas. . . please, oh please be mine, redemption. . . I cry from on my knees. . . with tilted head & gaze of rath, some witness, unfurled, displeased, upon the one whose tragic cause is labeled & dispersed for all to see, by now we know . . . to bow our heads admitting grave defeat of callous deed & thought unpure. . . chaos humbles every nerve. a foreign concept to the evil vein. . . that lies beneath some surface, housing doubt & laying blame. just now, let down the veil that hides my flaw as causual, or trendy point of self. my mode of defense is to shed this weight or suffocate with pleas. I hold forgiveness in my grasp & know it's what I need. so thin the doubt, I'm sure it'll crack from pounding fists & anguished cries, as every dormant day unfolds, revealing. . . alas, my comment grows & grows as shadows after noon. I am intrigued by this & more, by everything you do. . . if imitation flaunts regard I'm humbled as I write. to spin on listless, foreign ground. . . to helplessness, I bow. good bye. . . to pain, as truth does serve to qualify our deeds an equal hope for every hurt. love serves to set us free. we know not what we do at times. . . but still we must concede. |
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Re: Confiteor (I confess)
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 30th July 2008 @ 11:09:17 PM AEST
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My dear Spike,
This was a most humbling write. I actually have a piece in my repertoire, with the
title, "Mea Culpa", but have never been satisfied with it.
You did what I could not, with this. An apology is only powerful if there is
sincerity behind it. And in your piece there is a sincerity that bleeds. A brilliance
that shines as bright as the newest star in the sky. A wonderful read, S.
Bravo!
~Breezy
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