PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

And so it seems that life is

always dragging along

             and

I wearily accept my fate

yet acceptance is something

that I do not understand

And hence begins the tale of

                  the Loner

They say it’s true I’m half man

            and half poet

I wander the Earth as a madman

                     at large

and I scorn the world that

                rejects me

         pillages me

              and makes

           me suffer

               and bleed

but there is also forgiveness

Yes, that appears to be a saintly

                    quality

Sainthood being something that

             always eluded me

and possibly I don’t want it

The saints surround me at my table

               but

only my muses ever speak to me’

They come to me and say

           “Please listen

                  accept us

               create us

                 nurture us

      breathe life into us

              make us real.”

and I sit and listen, not certain

           I understand

I merely get up and decide

                    to take a walk

out in nature’s heavenly retreat

and I walk out to discover

           the nippy December air

                      and wet grass

that dampens my shoes

I am disappointed but I walk

                       along

thru the tired morning

I am left with a dilemma

and so I decide that I must

overcome the current impasse

I set out without gun or knife

but feel certain of victory

Brutality does exist but I am

                   capable

                     of enduring

I watch pounding figures batter

                each other

                       senseless

It doesn’t make sense and yet

I am enthralled by the spectacle

The interest develops and my

 enthusiasm begins to show

                thru the clouds

It give me courage to pull

                   myself on

I watch painted faces and masked men

                  as they don

                    costumes

              to conceal identity

It becomes a mystery and I wonder

what it is they wish to hide

Perhaps shame over the brutality

                  of their ways

I feel like I am about to go down

                in defeat

There is a sinking sensation as

                      I realize

that all men wear masks and paint

                     their faces

It seemed a parody of the brutality

            of all men

Existential thoughts lit my nerves

as I enjoyed the show

There is an answer though it be

               beyond me

I am certain still that one can

                      overcome

but for now I feel I am down

                for the count

but yet I manage to kick out

                before the referees hand

          hits the mat

                 for the third time.