From every home I've ever known
I could always hear the distant groan
of trains in passage to their station,
whereabouts of which I've yet to gleam.
Even now, in a denizen's bed,
when star-pierced fog does reign overhead;
the strings of the heart will tighten thus
when the burdened locomotives weep.
The feline, my company, alert -
quite wary of the sounds of this hurt -
responds with a mew and a quiver,
lost in frantic dissonance, yet still.
Planted on pads and prodding the sill
whilst chirping in dulcet tones until
I stir and twist and claw at the air,
and he leaves his perch to lay beside.
Bundled with a bare knee, I commune
with the cat as he tumbles, immune
to my pleas for affection; he doles
out his warmth by wedging between me
and the coziest spot afforded
by the place we share in accordance
with a funny doctrine writ by those
who have need for a presence benign.
Once dull-eyed stares dissolve into doze,
the parcel of fur tarries in pose,
contorted at length while whistles blow
in far, thinning distance, receding.
The night has lapsed into reasonless
morn, where trappings of logic distress
instead of soothe. With eyes chained to lash,
falling, I allow myself haunted
by the slow retreat of tethered steam
that, for a time, had ousted my dreams
and filled all my hollow with echoes
that continue their ring as I wake.
you dont suck at writing poems
Hey i kind of like this. at least i think you are talented. I have a little problem with your cadence and word order sometimes
with a funny doctrine writ by those
who have need for a presence benign.
like benign presence you mean?
feel free to write me or post back here
Uh thanks, I guess. Kind of
Uh thanks, I guess. Kind of backhanded. I enjoy altering the order of phrases some times when it suits me, and it seems you understood its meaning so hey.