Slaves of Eros
Dear lord, how we once loved to feel
those chains
that then bound us so tightly ..
And how we each
then longed to remain slaves of Eros ..
Yet despite all
of the pleasures that each link
then afforded ..
It was simply just never enough ..
Since we all still
needed an ache, or some form
of discomfort
and pain to remind us, and yes,
to serve as a
measure to somehow determine
our place and
position, plus the state of our
balance and
the grip we each maintained on
the tightrope
we all once called, love, lust and life ..
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: May 26th, 2022 01:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 54
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, spilleronsheet
Offline)
Comments7
Eros? We'll all be swooning. It'll be too much for us. For me, anyway! heehee.
No kiddin .. go take a lay down and keep taking the pills, especially the yellow ones .. 🙂
Yup - that Eros has been a tough master and you pen his hold over our hearts so well Nev............. we remain in his romantic but painful grip too whatever becomes of our lives methinks...........x
the old fella has a lot to answer for .. bless him ........... and you of course ................ x
Fine words Neville.
Andy
Cheers my little Golden Wonder 🙂
Well my excuse is that, as a devout follower or Eros' ethos, I bcame knackered!
it seems we are in the same boat mate and I gotta feeling we might be sinking ........ cheers sir DA 🙂
(our fallibility fast becoming
the only, remaining tendrils
to our mirage of connectivity...)
'to serve as a
measure to somehow determine
our place and
position, plus the state of our
balance and
the grip we each maintained on
the tightrope'..
Amen!
................................................... Amen brother Mek
Your slaying with your words dear Neville…the pains and grip of Eros that binds painfully yet so essentially….
sometimes it hurts to be happy ............ I guess that's what a lot of us who scribble think .. bless you my friend .. Neville
Eros is a lousy archer. I was wounded several times with his inaccurate arrows before he finally found my heart.
However, your poem is spot on. Maybe someday you'll be centered at Piccadilly with pen in hand. As to walking the tightrope, all I can say is that the older you become, the more slack it becomes. Great write. - Phil A.
and you sir, this fair mane are far too good for words ............................ I feel sure there are many strings to your bow .................. Neville
Many strings, and they're all attached. I wasn't making light of your poem; it contained many relatable truths and all very close to home. It was a delight to read and I did pick up a small sense of humor in it.
bless ya Phil ................................................... N
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