L. B. Mek

First and ever, Fiercest


toiling breath strays

featherweight serenity - betrays 

a memory invades

lost, scratching at itching memory etchings

ill-timed scattered thoughts of hollow haunts

swaying their arrival, from sigh to slight


if reached for, they dissipate 

as unfathomed wreckages

slinking back deeper

to those root core of shattered frames


so gently, caressing to untwist

broken-cork raw imagery

scorching, even in blurry form

pooling while aligning reminiscing’s trajectory 

lung blazing, choking - gasps of realisation


flooding - overstimulating while deflating

a smell as igniter, yielding - a face

recollection stunning - tethering, on cusp of debilitating

and a stampede of regret’s: memento nerve endings

glaring, within hindsight’s all-knowing;


if ever you too, dip unwittingly 

to scavenge that carcass of us

we so daringly painted devotedly, on youth’s

quick-sand of bold landmarks 


a shard of me, untainted

awaits to greet

till, that very last blink

embracing your evergreen smile 

deep, within those depths 

even time - shan’t ever breach



© L. B. Mek

February 2020

  • Author: L. B. Mek (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 19th, 2021 04:20
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:
  • Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm., AwHec8.


  • Fay Slimm.

    This has to be one of your best L.B. - a bouquet of imagery to sigh for and the last stanza shines with romantic assurance that love is forever. One for my list of favourites for sure.

    • L. B. Mek

      humbled, as always dear Fay
      thank you for your warm and kind words, you've gifted me a beautiful Monday morning, despite all this grey clouds and doom & gloom atmosphere that surrounds,
      what an encouraging comment of support, I'll probably come back to read it again when those challenging time's arrive and I'm just staring at a blank page for days on end..
      'a bouquet of imagery to sigh for' wow!

    • AwHec8

      This Poem reminds me of 2 things,
      1)Every time I have a dream that slips away after waking up and trying to recall the dream that was so important that had such an Earth shattering secret in my mind, Yet slipped away the harder I tried to remember like water through my hand.
      2)At 63 I can't say I have "memories" especially the older 1's as they now are memories of memories if that makes any sense.
      I do Love the thoughts this Poem strikes in me. Great Write L.B. Mek. Don

      • L. B. Mek

        'as they now are memories of memories', so very true
        time has a way of fragmenting recollection, but somehow our connections remain untouched, I'm always shocked when I reconnect with people after years - to the extent I have forgotten their face and name even, yet by striking a happenstance conversation we immediately start to flow - effortlessly, then we play that puzzling-out game and we find out, this is how we've always been, we just drifted apart..
        I think that's the essence of this write as well, at least somewhat,
        thanks for taking time to support and comment dear poet, so glad you enjoyed the read, I'm humbled - truly!

      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.