Sleep

Comments1

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  L. B. Mek August 2nd, 2021 05:51

  'Deinfest
  the attic, of my comatose consciousness?
  Would your inert form
  be scraped out;
  suffocated, from the noxious gases
  or would you permeate ever deeper
  the silver lining
  that resides: inside...'
  emphatically, profound in wording
  a poetic yearning for meaning
  questioning, those measuring depths
  of our life's connections;
  between a shared smile
  and impassioned saliva mixing
  to our bared hearts: without
  thoughts - of restraint
  what exactly constitutes
  our most meaningful, relationships?
  between ease of comfort and loyalty
  where do our borders
  get crossed and smudged
  so regrettably, ugly?
  why if serendipitous our meeting
  is it fortuitous, our parting?
  to open opportunity
  to our destined, realisation
  of curated happenstance
  in those imperfectly - perfect, destinations...?
  (A great write, keep soaring, dear poet
  be not weary of faltering
  for, even your landing
  will have you perched - higher
  than most of us, dare dream!)
  a genuine delight, to read your poetic genius
  and those inquisitive aspects
  of philosophical insight's, you're gradually
  introducing and weaving - seamlessly
  into your profound, poetic voice

  • 

    rebmastersAugust 2nd, 2021 08:02

    'why if serendipitous our meeting
    is it fortuitous, our parting?'
    
    Ah yes and (like all things) you can't have one without the other. And what a fine line it is when we define ourselves and are then defined by others. I hesitate to call myself a writer and never dare to call myself a poet, so how thrilling it is when those secret definitions are uttered about us by others we admire so much. Thanks my dear x