LOVE’S HURT

Oh why does loving hurt so much?
And bite so hard with such smooth teeth?
And clutch so tightly at my heart
As though to stifle every beat?

Just one dark look, one heavy word,
Is like the lash of some foul whip,
And lacerates my tender frame,
And brings a quiver to my lip.

In vain I try to stem the ache –
Othello’s antique pain.
The handkerchief is suspect still
My anguish will remain.

[ First published on rolandsragbag.wordpress.com blog on 5^th October, 2016 ]

The Bag Lady

WHB: My 2001 Pencil and Wash drawing of a Homeless lady outside the Marienwerdersche Church in Berlin in the 1930s – from ‘The German Century’ by Michael Sturmer

Depressed and defeated,
My world’s at an end.
Its simpler to die
Than life’s troubles to mend.

I sit here alone, 
My future in tatters. 
No one will help.
To them no one else matters. 

Men’s struggle for power
Has brought me to this. 
Their pride and their greed,
That’s what’s amiss. 

The end will come quickly. 
My future is bleak.
No reason to hope. 
It’s the fate of the weak. 

[ Previously published on this blog in September 2016 ]

His Life In Books

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His Life In Books

His books were loved
as he loved his life
for they and he were one
each volume held a world
within its covers
a seed already grown
a life already lived
both beginning and end
alongside the life between
where the living
the dead
and the dreamt-of
coexist
in pages of printed passion
grey words and purple passages
telling of love
adventure
the commonplace and the rare
of depression and elation
delight and despair
but always
under the bright stars
of expectancy and hope

Two Word Tales #14

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Two words,
‘Not now’
Gave me
Some hope.

Two words,
‘Of course’
Made sure
You would.

Two words,
’Let’s wait’
Denied
That hope.

Two words,
‘In time’
Killed off
My trust.

Two words,
’Give in’
Made me
Despair.

Two words,
’Stay Cool’
For heat
Will kill.

Two words,
‘Look back’
The past
Will teach.

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Murder In The Cathedral – Two-Word Tale #14

‘The Cathedral’ (detail): WHB – Pen & Wash

Murder In The Cathedral

Agog
With awe
And gripped
With fright
How can
I last
For one
More night

My awe
My fear
Hold me
In thrall
A lasting
Longing
Curtain call

I sleep
I dream
I know
My place
‘Tis full
Of pain
With-out
God’s grace

For all
My sins
I can’t
A-tone
I’m lost
I’m gone
I am
Mere bone

Des-pair
And dread
Are my
Mill-stone
Worn as
Penance
On my
Head-stone

——–

To you
Who now
Will hear
My story
I pray
You will
My fate
Be-moan 

——–

---

 

History generally lays the blame for the murder of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on his former close friend, King Henry II, who, in 1174, did penance at Becket’s tomb in Canterbury Cathedral. 

---

 

Love Lost

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Soft words
Kindly spoken
Ended our affair
Harsh words
Roughly spoken
Captured my despair

How could I
All this time passed
Not bring myself to care?
Be expected silently,
The hurt, the pain, to bear?

Was it not her
Who from the start
Had always said she cared,
Whilst I, blasé, had many times
Devalued what we shared?

But now we’ve parted,
Untied the knot,
And gone our separate ways,
I feel the hurt
Each passing day
Left only with this vile malaise.

 

Two Word Tales #7- The Past Will Teach

‘Chambord’ … WHB – Pen & Wash

The Past Will Teach

Two words
“I do”
Gave me
Some hope

Two words
“Of Course”
Helped me
To trust

But then
Two words
Led me
To doubt

Those words
“Not now”
Made me
Despair

Two words
“No Luck”
Made clear
My fate

Two words
“Look back”
The past
Will teach

 

My ‘Two Word’ Verses

Number six  in my series of short verses 

 

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

Reverie #7: Dead Drunk

Photo by Mateusz Dach on Pexels.com

… A Dirge in the Key of D 

 

Drunk 
Distended and Distressed 
Doped in a Downtown Dive 
what have I Done to Desire to live 
what have I Done to Deserve a life 
what Dread Deeds Do I Declare 
Why is all Despair 
 
Down and out and 
Done to Death 
Dipped in Diesel 
Dressed in Dirt 
Dished up 
Defeated 
and Drowned in Drink 
Doing my Damnedest to Die 
 
Deftly Dealt 
It was a Diamond from the Deck 
Doom’s Deliberate Dance of Death 
Done and Dusted 
Drowned in Dread 
 
IN CASE OF DEATH 
DO NOT RESUSCITATE 

‘THAT LOVE MAY LIVE’ – A Story In Four Haikus

Image . . . Pinterest

 

SADNESS

The heavens opened 
On my hopes for sun and warmth
Leaving me bereft

DESPAIR

As the waters rose
So my spirits with them sank
I thought love lay lost

HOPE

But I was quite wrong
For Nature wove its magic
Showing me the truth

TRUTH

Look upon the rain
As summers need to renew
And keep love alive

 

JANUS 2018 – Two Sedoka

2 Katauta = 1 Sedoka

The Katauta is an unrhymed Japanese form consisting of 17 or 19 syllables. The poem is a three-lined poem with syllable counts of: 5/7/5 or 5/7/7.   . . .   A single katauta is considered incomplete, or a half-poem . . . a pair of katautas using the syllable count of 5,7,7 is called a sedoka.

The Sedoka, therefore, can be defined as – an unrhymed poem made up of two three-line katauta with the syllable count of: 5/7/7, 5/7/7.   A Sedoka, pair of katauta as a single poem, may address the same subject from differing perspectives. 

Source – adapted from:  Shadow Poetry

Continuing my occasional efforts at attempting different poetic forms I offer two Sedokas of my own composition, both based on the advent of a new year, with prospects for new beginnings . . . 

 In ancient Roman religion and myth, Janus is the god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, passages, and endings. He is usually depicted as having two faces, since he looks to the future and to the past.  (Wikipedia)

Yesterday has gone
Turn your face to the future
Let hope reign over regret

The future holds sway
Promises there are to keep
Let Love conquer dark despair

Look to the future
The past is history now
But remember its lessons

For they tell the truth
That what tomorrow will bring
Is what yesterday forgot