I knew it long before the end
my affairs to order fast
The days once promised now recalled
my future is my past
Each day times ten the countdown on
as memory wanders back
Tomorrow once was like the stars
that time would not attack
Into this funk I drift away
each phrase might be my last
The river calling out to me
the falls my soul’s repast
With T’s all crossed and dotted I’s
I hear the trumpet blow
and carried on a distant wind
—into the fates I go
(The New Room: May, 2022)
Unclaimed
Ten siblings
though an only child
Divorced fraternal
bastardis wild
Ten reminders
of what I’m not
Isolated
dropped not caught
Ten siblings
that share my name
Whose backs have turned
with eyes that blame
Regret incessant
to live outside
This name a prison
—wherein I hide
(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: May 25th, 2022 08:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
Brilliant!
'my future is my past'
I've always preferred:
'my past is my future's, forecast...'
Thanks again, LB.
Kurt
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