Forsaken promises
Nothing came to claim my muse, instead I dreamed
Of freedoms neatly folded in a treasure chest lying in the debris
Of a crater; the best were simple choices, the rest forsaken
Promises bombed to shreds beside their makers.
All around the sound of raging thunder rumbled
In a night lit bright by streaks of blinding light
That tore the vision from my eyes beside the chest
Which huddled quiet in abject fright an orphaned child.
I held it in my arms and cried for lives forgone, the price
Of lovers rudely shorn from life, their children never born;
My muse had sought to soar alone and not be hobbled
In her freedom’s flight – she rued the thankless night.
At dawn I rose to skies worn grey with sullen clouds
And dismal chill, my will suborned. I tried to rationalise
Events and failed to find a common thread that lead me
To resist the test, reveal the contents of the chest.
Related poetry:
- The Forsaken I Once in the winter Out on a lake In the heart of the north-land, Far from the Fort And far from the hunters, A Chippewa woman With her sick baby, Crouched in the last hours Of a great storm. Frozen and hungry, She fished through the ice With a line of the twisted Bark […]...
- Promises, Promises I am stretched out under the lean-to Of an old tobacco-shed On a farm in North Carolina. A cardinal sings from the dogwood For the love of marijuana. His song goes over my head. There is such splendour in the grass I might be the picture of happiness. Yet I am utterly bereft Of the […]...
- A Forsaken Garden IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, At the sea-down’s edge between windward and lee, Walled round with rocks as an inland island, The ghost of a garden fronts the sea. A girdle of brushwood and thorn encloses The steep square slope of the blossomless bed Where the weeds that grew green […]...
- The Forsaken Merman Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once […]...
- The Forsaken Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear Me! I am very weary. I have come From a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache For such Far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my Thoughts grow confused. I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you […]...
- TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, But stay the time till we have bade good-night. Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way As soon dispatch’d is by the night as day. Let us not then so rudely henceforth go Till we have wept, kiss’d, sigh’d, shook hands, or […]...
- I'll have to change my mind I’ll have to change my mind on war, I need to take a break From structured thought; there’s more to peace – it dictates A longer oar to keep the calm than takes to make a little war. Our history as a people is a theatre of strife and where We celebrate the life of […]...
- The Merchant of the Picturesque The Merchant of the Picturesque A Counter has and sales But is within or negative Precisely as the calls To Children he is small in price And large in courtesy It suits him better than a check Their artless currency Of Counterfeits he is so shy Do one advance so near As to behold his […]...
- Fleeing Away My thoughts soar not as they ought to soar, Higher and higher on soul-lent wings; But ever and often and more and more They are dragged down earthward by little things, By little troubles and little needs, As a lark might be tangled among the weeds. My purpose is not what it ought to be, […]...
- Promises Like Pie-Crust Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast, Free to come as free to go: For I cannot know your past, And of mine what can you know? You, so warm, may once have been Warmer towards […]...
- Winter Promises Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby’s buttocks, Eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, Purple neon flawless glistening Peppers, pole beans fecund and fast Growing as Jack’s Viagra-sped stalk, Big as truck tire zinnias that mildew Will never wilt, roses weighing down A bush never touched by black spot, Brave little fruit trees shouldering up Their spotless ornaments […]...
- Madam Life's a Piece in Bloom Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She’s the tenant of the room, He’s the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend, You shall bilk him once or twice; But he’ll trap you in the end, And he’ll stick you for her price. With his kneebones at your […]...
- The Four Winds The South wind said to the palms: My lovers sing me psalms; But are they as warm as those That Laylah’s lover knows? The North wind said to the firs: I have my worshippers; But are they as keen as hers? The East wind said to the cedars: My friends are no seceders; But is […]...
- Model For The Laureate On thrones from China to Peru All sorts of kings have sat That men and women of all sorts Proclaimed both good and great; And what’s the odds if such as these For reason of the State Should keep their lovers waiting, Keep their lovers waiting? Some boast of beggar-kings and kings Of rascals black […]...
- Twilight From vales of dawn hath Day pursued the Night Who mocking fled, swift-sandalled, to the west, Nor ever lingered in her wayward flight With dusk-eyed glance to recompense his quest, But over crocus hills and meadows gray Sped fleetly on her way. Now when the Day, shorn of his failing strength, Hath fallen spent before […]...
- The Oldest Child The night still frightens you. You know it is interminable And of vast, unimaginable dimensions. “That’s because His insomnia is permanent,” You’ve read some mystic say. Is it the point of His schoolboy’s compass That pricks your heart? Somewhere perhaps the lovers lie Under the dark cypress trees, Trembling with happiness, But here there’s only […]...
- Idea XXXVII: Dear, why should you command me to my rest Dear, why should you command me to my rest When now the night doth summon all to sleep? Methinks this time becometh lovers best; Night was ordain’d together friends to keep. How happy are all other living things Which, though the day disjoin by sev’ral flight, The quiet ev’ning yet together brings, And each returns […]...
- To A Fallen Elm Old Elm that murmured in our chimney top The sweetest anthem autumn ever made And into mellow whispering calms would drop When showers fell on thy many coloured shade And when dark tempests mimic thunder made While darkness came as it would strangle light With the black tempest of a winter night That rocked thee […]...
- Pittypat and Tippytoe All day long they come and go Pittypat and Tippytoe; Footprints up and down the hall, Playthings scattered on the floor, Finger-marks along the wall, Tell-tale smudges on the door By these presents you shall know Pittypat and Tippytoe. How they riot at their play! And a dozen times a day In they troop, demanding […]...
- Sonnet XXXVII: Dear, Why Should You Dear, why should you command me to my rest When now the night doth summon all to sleep? Methinks this time becometh lovers best; Night was ordain’d, together friends to keep; How happy are all other living things Which through the day disjoin by sev’ral flight, The quiet ev’ning yet together brings, And each returns […]...
- The Poet O hour of my muse: why do you leave me, Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight? Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter? How shall I pass my days? And how my nights? I have no one to love. I have no home. There is no center to sustain my life. […]...
- Early Darkness How can you say Earth should give me joy? Each thing Born is my burden; I cannot succeed With all of you. And you would like to dictate to me, You would like to tell me Who among you is most valuable, Who most resembles me. And you hold up as an example The pure […]...
- Sonnet LXVII Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before the bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head; […]...
- Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away To live a second life on second head; […]...
- Equality I saw a King, who spent his life to weave Into a nation all his great heart thought, Unsatisfied until he should achieve The grand ideal that his manhood sought; Yet as he saw the end within his reach, Death took the sceptre from his failing hand, And all men said, “He gave his life […]...
- The Song of the Dead Hear now the Song of the Dead in the North by the torn berg-edges They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges. Song of the Dead in the South in the sun by their skeleton horses, Where the warrigal whimpers and bays through the dust of the sere river-courses. Song of […]...
- 5.7 I don’t care if you are you and I am I. I am not some exotic flower. Whatever coat you have on, I will put it on to warm me… and the shoes however small… I will walk in them to balance our height difference. You don’t need to convert for me; I have already […]...
- Prayer for Children Gracious Lord, our children see, By Thy mercy we are free; But shall these, alas! remain Subjects still of Satan’s reign? Israel’s young ones, when of old Pharaoh threaten’d to withhold, Then Thy messenger said, “No; Let the children also go!” When the angel of the Lord, Drawing forth his dreadful sword, Slew with an […]...
- To James Whitcomb Riley On his “Book of Joyous Children” Yours is a garden of old-fashioned flowers; Joyous children delight to play there; Weary men find rest in its bowers, Watching the lingering light of day there. Old-time tunes and young love’s laughter Ripple and run among the roses; Memory’s echoes, murmuring after, Fill the dusk when the long […]...
- The Way That Lovers Use The Way that lovers use is this; They bow, catch hands, with never a word, And their lips meet, and they do kiss, ВЂ”So I have heard. They queerly find some healing so, And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, ВЂ”I have read as much. And theirs no longer joy […]...
- Her Dream I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come, That I had shorn my locks away And laid them on Love’s lettered tomb: But something bore them out of sight In a great tumult of the air, And after nailed upon the night Berenice’s burning hair....
- The Price Of Parting Will they be there for you when you die? Will they hold your hands and cry until you’ve breathed Your last? Is it too much to ask? While love is free In tearful task the price of parting wears A mask of pain which none would feign To gladly greet. Yet love abed with death […]...
- The Retired Cat A poet’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retire, And where, secure as mouse in chink, She might repose, or sit and think. I know not where she caught the trick Nature perhaps herself had cast her In such […]...
- The Beggar's Valentine Kiss me and comfort my heart Maiden honest and fine. I am the pilgrim boy Lame, but hunting the shrine; Fleeing away from the sweets, Seeking the dust and rain, Sworn to the staff and road, Scorning pleasure and pain; Nevertheless my mouth Would rest like a bird an hour And find in your curls […]...
- White-Collar Spaniard We have no heart for civil strife, Our burdens we prefer to bear; We long to live a peaceful life And claim of happiness our share. If only to be clothed and fed And see our children laugh and play – That means a lot when all is said, In this grim treadmill of today. […]...
- His Mind like Fabrics of the East His Mind like Fabrics of the East Displayed to the despair Of everyone but here and there An humble Purchaser For though his price was not of Gold More arduous there is That one should comprehend the worth Was all the price there was...
- Tides Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing Where the starlike sea gulls soar; The sun was keen and the foam was blowing High on the rocky shore. But now in the dusk the tide is turning, Lower the sea gulls soar, And the waves that rose in resistless yearning Are broken forevermore....
- In a Spring Grove Here the white-ray’d anemone is born, Wood-sorrel, and the varnish’d buttercup; And primrose in its purfled green swathed up, Pallid and sweet round every budding thorn, Gray ash, and beech with rusty leaves outworn. Here, too the darting linnet hath her nest In the blue-lustred holly, never shorn, Whose partner cheers her little brooding breast, […]...
- Opposition Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill, Complain no more; for these, O heart, Direct the random of the will As rhymes direct the rage of art. The lute’s fixt fret, that runs athwart The strain and purpose of the string, For governance and nice consort Doth bar his wilful wavering. The dark hath […]...
- The Quest I sought Him on the purple seas, I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His name; The wasted ways of earth I trod: In vain! In vain! I found not God. I sought Him in the hives of men, The cities grand, the hamlets […]...