Tag: tune

  • poem: arisen – 28/02/22

    poem: arisen – 28/02/22

    even when I’ve not everything I need all around
    I have all I need when I’m here
    the bare minimum does not contribute to any sense of gloom
    nor quaint snipey conversations within the room
    my face doesn’t grow tired or long
    because I am here and now
    and by my side is… you.

    I know you’re tired of the same old love poems
    dedicated to you and I,
    perhaps things are about to change,
    perhaps we’ll move on, move forward,
    move forth,
    we are too good for dwelling upon the
    prior circumstance –

    we will move forward.

    no matter how long it takes,
    how many angsty bitter tunes and rhymes
    I won’t be like that today,
    at least, not this time,

    I wander our memories,
    childhood, adulthood things
    as I clean with slow ease,
    wondering what to bin, what to keep,
    what to allow as designated for others,

    and I realise how quickly time’s passed
    before my very eyes,
    and I contemplate what happened to the stars,
    the moon, oh the stars
    when my world was up in arms,
    I was angered, bitter, untidy, nasty,
    cruel to mankind,
    it wasn’t pretty,
    but it was only a spell,
    for a tiny moment in time,
    and recovery is poignant,
    it is turbulent,
    but it’s occurring,
    within hours.
    within minutes and seconds, darling.

    And those who decide to stand by me,
    as friends, as warriors, as heroes,
    times three,
    many have been here in the making
    but only three remain somehow,
    maybe more,
    but they’ve no designated doors,
    not yet, anyhow.

    I am watching and waiting for the complete revelation,
    about the words they will say and unravel
    tongues engorged like a tame good-willed Cerberus,
    I don’t know, not quite, what they can do,
    but I’m excited to see how the utterances will
    help me,
    assist me,
    my mindset, my confidence to entirely return.

    Lovingly, achingly, away from me,
    I’ve made my childhood bed, and what about you,
    dear sir?
    Shall you rise from my head?
    A memory, a mere memory?
    No, shadowy darkness and smiles,
    spirits assured.

    Now drink to us.
    Both seemingly arisen from the dead.
    © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.   
    (28/2/22)
    Photo by spirit111 on Pixabay.