Shelley's Steely Soul [ii]

Kevin Michael Bloor

I swear by Shelley’s steely soul,
as poets, we have ups and downs.
Some lows, some highs, some times of trouble.
(Some bastard’s bound to burst your bubble!)

Sometimes, we’re high as Blackpool's 'steeple,'
and poets can be placid people,
until some sad, sick sons of bitches
unpick from poet’s cloak the stitches!

I guess we’re only killing time,
just turning heartbreak into rhyme.
Yet, sorrow, in our souls is sowing
a mustard seed of faith that’s growing!

I know our days, by fate, are numbered,
and when, like Shelley, we have slumbered,
we’ll have no poet eulogise
our lives – nor sweetly poetise.

And yet, by Shelley's soul, I swear:
lost legacy is such small beer,
as long as love, once lost, is lying
beside me, on my day of dying.

  • Author: Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 9th, 2022 01:21
  • Comment from author about the poem: dedicated to a true poet: Percy S.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 9
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.


  • L. B. Mek

    'indeed, he be a Pure poet
    an idyllist and wilful, believer
    in humanity's capacity
    to surpass their boundaries
    and live, Truly - free'..
    (what a wonderful dedication
    and yes, I too agree
    there are a lot of self-involved
    and over opinionated, fcker's
    like me
    that can ruin poetry
    for the sensitive, poet)
    thanks for sharing
    dear Poet

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