L. B. Mek

byzantium’s Hollow cleats

endless queues, risking all

to glean cues 

of Ambrosia’s - mirage fumes, separated

by blinked distance to History’s beams

whilst still dragging those unyielding shadows

trailing - lurking, with inevitability’s menace

a promise, of the inherited ruins they scrape

with each flinch of stubborn naivety


salvation moulded to yesteryear Sage’s

despair corking - myths, bequeathed

as dams of comforting lies

banishing vital inquisitiveness

to corner-seat awareness, muted 

as a makeweight for more elaborate - runways

to their paper plane of belief’s,

beguiling monuments of intellect’s posterity

waiting to wrap Tuna stressed existence 

to isles of everlasting’s brilliance

within tear stained waters

of blinkered perspectives


ask, those yearned creative works 

traversing centuries 

in stranger’s hands, or serenading ears 

in unknown tongues

and doubtful, you’ll find a soothing cadence 

in their whingey replies

to be: a vacancy of nothingness, while serving 

as a window to deposits

of in-drawn breath experiences, heralded

as timeless treasures for depicting

emotions - never understood

a colourless reality, of depthless hollowness 


how fickle: Artistry’s ever-after

zealot immortality dreams

when all ink - fades

stanzas - are annexed into translations

of generationally displaced mindsets 

and music is sampled to oblivion’s gates 

while Artist’s themselves, wait - to merit

beheaded statue - status, of short-lived prominence


let walking-stick’s shuffle along, nurturing

their self-dug pits of shallow dependencies, pouting

at antics they mirrored

in their own Salmon seasons


those with smile lines

yet to be moulded

by grey-haired cynical traits, swim back

to lands your toes can cusp


and prepare, to be steeped

in that graceful Purple of effortless whimsy, dripping

from the molasses: of Jenny Joseph’s ‘Warning’


while delighting in T. S. Eliot’s ‘Love Song ...’

of each dared bite: of those treasured Peach’s

remaining, in our lives…



© L. B. Mek 

June 2020


  • Jerry Reynolds

    A lot to wonder about.

    • L. B. Mek

      and who has the time eh Jerry, lol
      my bad: just something different from my usual flow is all, I usually prioritise accessibility and relatability above self-serving diatribes like this scribble,
      but we must make time to feed our needs and stand on our own two feet, so worthwhile to indulge ourselves in such challenges sometimes, if only 'to scratch that ambitious - Poetic itch',
      thanks for trying to connect with my ramblings, appreciate your supportive feedback

    • Robert Haigh

      A linguistic feast! I'm full to bursting! An accomplished write, my friend!

      • L. B. Mek

        well, consider me shocked! lol
        truly glad you found something to connect with in my write dear Poet, I appreciate your generously worded encouraging comment, how very kind of you my friend,
        hope 2021 blossoms into a wonderful year for you and yours

      • Neville

        it is an honour to call you my literary friend, my friend ...

        having first found these words of yours several days ago .. I have been in awe of them since and eager to place some of my own beneath them .. something adequate that is .. I am still struggling to find them .......


        • L. B. Mek

          oh how you like to tease and make an old soul blush, bless your generous nature for always looking to encourage and support my humble efforts, virtue of a true friend - literary or any other

        • lauraoverxo

          this is such an interesting piece, it took me quite a few times to grasp the meaning as I'm not very acquainted with big vocabulary. but love it

          • L. B. Mek

            I appreciate you taking the time and for writing such an encouraging comment, very kind of you dear Poet

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