deepundergroundpoetry.com
Depth
That August was a strange time,
(Madness into sadness – Sadness into madness.)
People from that time are no longer alive.
Someone told me that
Regret
Is the worst of things,
A source
Of the deepest sufferings,
Perhaps...
I was -
I suppose,
Stark in the dark of the
Middle
Of nowhere:
Somewhere there.
O
The darkness of those nights
Became heights,
The calling of falling,
With no distinction
Between
Nothing and anything,
There in
My chamber
Of sensory deprivation,
& Then
I heard the rain – Reign
In a song of purification,
& Then
I disrobed – Unclothed
My body,
Down to my soul,
Needing purity -
Needing to be whole.
Farm grass at the sole
Of my foot steps,
Disarmed – Open armed
Into
Crystalline rain, darkness
&
Depth.
Published 13th Dec 2021
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likes 5
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13th Dec 2021 9:18pm
14th Dec 2021 5:04am
"..I disrobed – Unclothed
My body,
Down to my soul,"
~hushingly beautiful!!!!
This reads with a painful sincerity that just tugs one down the page to end in such deep stillness.. of simple reflection and baring/succumbing, atoned in the rains..
*poetry sighs* completely evoked!
Your word~play is addictive, such that i rarely find it.. bewares, as i will be followin u now, fancee poet ;)
this is lovely in its dark,
~d
My body,
Down to my soul,"
~hushingly beautiful!!!!
This reads with a painful sincerity that just tugs one down the page to end in such deep stillness.. of simple reflection and baring/succumbing, atoned in the rains..
*poetry sighs* completely evoked!
Your word~play is addictive, such that i rarely find it.. bewares, as i will be followin u now, fancee poet ;)
this is lovely in its dark,
~d
15th Dec 2021 7:31pm
