Though grief becomes my closest kinsman,
there are no tears at home for you;
for love will own no pity, neither will truth lie.
As such, the fountain of sorrows is empty,
that wishing well full of pennies, parched.
If I could pity myself, and be no scoundrel,
I would fill that vacant bowl with the fruit of my life,
your joy, my tears.
But love will own no pity, neither will truth lie,
and I have walked in love.
By love I bled my hands on the rope that dips
the bucket to the bottom, only to find dust,
and pennies.
In love, I cast myself out of my place for yours;
eagerly.
And still, you find no place in me.
With love I tend the mortar
that you use to build walls of separation;
intended for shelter, but I am out of place.
Though grief becomes my closest kinsman,
and pain my constant companion,
there are no tears at home;
I will walk in love and truth,
away.
Author notes
Nobody in their right mind plans to separate, or get divorced when they get married...
"...and the dish ran away with the spoon..." - Mother Goose
A contest entry
- I'm Goin' on a Muse Hunt by x-sweet-sunshine-x.
400 points, ended November 30, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Great job! The rhythm was excellent, and your word choice was awesome - the imagery was great and I could really feel the emotion in this poem. These lines were awesome:
"With love I tend the mortar
that you use to build walls of separation;
intended for shelter, but I am out of place."
Thanks for entering and keep writing! -
Lately, every poem I read, regardless of what it's about, somehow links to a certain something in my life. This one more than most. Dunno what my point is. Here's another great poem.. I prefer the rhyming ones, though.
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Poetry
I prefer to write rhyming poetry, but for the last couple of days it's been like eating oatmeal plain...bleh. The thing about poetry is that it reaches to a deeper place in people who write and read it...and those who read it pick up on emotions that hit close to their own experience, even if the poem has nothing to do with their experience, they can still identify with the emotion. This is one reason I don't read too much poetry, experience and decisions regarding experiences should be ruled by logic and reason, not emotion, and I tend to slip up when I dip too deep in the well of emotion that poetry provides. (I guess that's my point anyway). I dunno...after 47 years you'd think I'd have some of this stuff figured out by now...Thanks again for the comments.
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