deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tabula Rasa
Parading a self-imparted fame,
Filled with white sand, blue flame,
Departing, with hellion eyes,
And the cries of a scorned lover die.
Strange accordion bliss,
Resplendent in a simple kiss,
Wrapped in the dressings of spirit,
The saga falters at the spinning head
Of a bairn philosophy;
An extended metaphor for ones
Tragic lack of autonomy.
All this fails to burn
As in the past, it had,
And I bloom, verdant,
Bearing instead
Tablets of the memory,
Jewels to the falcon's nest,
As if to remind me of the morning light,
And lay my heart to rest.
Filled with white sand, blue flame,
Departing, with hellion eyes,
And the cries of a scorned lover die.
Strange accordion bliss,
Resplendent in a simple kiss,
Wrapped in the dressings of spirit,
The saga falters at the spinning head
Of a bairn philosophy;
An extended metaphor for ones
Tragic lack of autonomy.
All this fails to burn
As in the past, it had,
And I bloom, verdant,
Bearing instead
Tablets of the memory,
Jewels to the falcon's nest,
As if to remind me of the morning light,
And lay my heart to rest.
Published 15th Sep 2010
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Anonymous
17th Sep 2010 9:31pm
Assured sense of rhythm and rhyme, the final three lines working perfectly. Great poem, Gnashville.
21st Apr 2014 8:50am
