Sacrosanct Frame.





Like a pagan
Believing in nothing,
I am ridden in this rotten wood.
Absurd with this abusive world,
I wonder.

Virtues are lost with this rabble crowd.
Like a raccoon hidden in its abyss
I lay cuddled here. left in loneliness
With no-around; no one to interfere
I wonder.

My limbs refuse to move now.
My bowels don’t seek permission anymore.
My eyes are tired too open     .
Like a new-born with teeth yet to grow
I lay and wonder.

Beauty lost.
Pride held no -more.
Love not desired for.
The will shadowed down with miseries.
I still wonder.

Dusted from the dust, There is that sacramental beauty
With eyes that took hearts.
With beauty that took lama’s naked.
Held now only in that sacrosanct frame.
I look at it and wonder.

I wonder looking at her pride;
Looking at her unflagging beauty,
Looking at her is a vicarious pleasure.
And I wonder why can’t I be that Maria again? Captured in frame so beautiful,
Than this Maria now imbued and willing to abjure.


Cuddled down, I wonder.
I Wonder about the journey traveled,
Wonder about the days of youth and pride,
Wonder about those changes.
And I wonder with those memories of the past.



shared at One Single Impression
shared at magpietales

Comments

  1. As we age we all wonder if it was worth the journey. Excellent poem....



    Melanie

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  2. Powerful write. At 30 I noticed myself how I have already changed, its unnerving. Everything is transient

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  3. TRUE .....AGE WILL TELL US AND TAKE US

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  4. Excellent write. I know it's a little earthy, but the line that really struck me was, "My bowels don’t seek permission anymore".

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  5. an engaging read
    I like poems that express

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  6. powerful.
    keep us inspired.


    share 1 to 3 poems with poetry potluck week 41 today.

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  7. wow, glad to see you last minute submission.

    excellent write,
    Cheers.

    ReplyDelete

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