The Titanic sunk a frozen night,
As the chattering of teeth;
Stole souls from warmth.
A fraction of that fate
Is alive, housed in my heart;
Surrounded by quicksand miles apart.
I never really knew the meaning of hard,
Until it dawned on me that Ive lost,
Myself.
In the morning, my eyes stay shut,
As I walk about the halls of grunge;
Secretly taunting the Devil.
The Angels used to sing a Hymn
One that lulled me to sleep,
When my heart pounded firm.
Now to the deaf eyes,
The torrid, eerie sensual sprite,
I fall into the pits;
Lying beside parasites.
I love you Angel,
Where hath the wind blown,
My good will,
My cause?
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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I really love poems of introspection. I like how you have delved into truth here in such a way that most of your readers can totally relate on some level. Each of us have this struggle, this working out of who we choose to be--finding our cause. But when we find it there is such beauty and peace. A beautiful write.
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Where hath the wind blown?
You weave in thought and emotion like a master
returned from the Renaissance.
Using words that expound precious thought before
my eyes such as: torrid, lulled, and taunting.
The final two stanzas are potent to the point
of leaving a formiable impact. All the memories
of how you've arrived upon your knees does not
answer the core of your being. I am thankful to
have found this piece and to have it featured.
Blue
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when I saw your age, I was truly impressed by the depth of the verse you have penned ... I can feel the fervor of youth, and at the same time, I perceive the voice of an old, weary soul who has been shattered by the thunderstorms of life ...
maybe it is just my fantasy, but when I read about the titanic and saw the scene on the screen of my mind, I was wondering if a lost soul, has expressed itself through you, or, even, if you might have spoken about a possible past-life-experience ?
I will probably never know, but this is what came to my mind in resonance with your words ...
no matter if it's truth or imagination, your way of using poetic device in such a manner is truly impressing me ...
you have amazing talent, young man
maa
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This puts me in mind of a comparison between one's better and worse natures. Somewhere, partially submerged and stranded, is the Self that angels kept company; the firm heart and will, the noble cause.
The indulged evil tendencies close eyes to certain aspects of the situation. There is a certain twisted satisfaction and pride about taunting the Devil, himself. Yet surrounded by parasites that live off one's strength, in the grunge pit, emotions aroused, one recognises also at least a partial loss of senses of sight and hearing, and the absence of the exiled self of virtue. Title reflects the realization well!
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there is such a sense of loss; first at sea - but worse in the abandonment of the whispers that had become a life raft. I like this but am left with a sense of hopelessness that is uncomfortable.
Ken
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This I think is more profound than meets the eye... I don't think it is a lost love so much as a loss of the sense of who you are, and what your true purpose is... like an acute case of depression...
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i get the voince of a grandmother speaking to an old photograph... something that may be all thats left of youth. or of a love. or even of a child. the titanic is a good repersentation of loss but i think it is more metiphorical in your poem and not ment to be taken so litterally. i am glad your poem was featured in the comment contest and that i have been introduced to it through this. i thank you for the lovely read and will be back to check on other pieces you have done well writen and i thank you for that too.
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Excellant/imaginative/pensivtive
Ah, a lovely lament indeed. Rather enigmatic as your writes usually are, yet most of us can relate to a story of lost love. Again, well done.
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