three brothers we;
now Leopards spots hang happy as a nail;
the barking trees dance sundown to a crawl;
as peasants to the Porcupine
the thin man sucks the colours from the dead.
fortune or faith? bullhorn or water-bed?
no final wish for the heart that turned his eye.
his final breath came silent as a snake;
what now we do,
we strangers in our perfect pose of sorrow?
we have walked more miles than the roots left unattended.
hungry men no older than the sleeping violin;
too proud to beg a solitary tear;
how many mothers came and stared us down?
face down to grave we dared plead providence
searching for the birth-marks on the flowers as they wilt.
in Thanatos disguise
we dared to wish them dead as apricot;
but how dead are we?
as dead as circus-hands on the black swans neck!
less honest than the working day is long;
three brothers we,
face down to grave still pleading providence;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 7th, 2023 14:51
- Category: Forgiveness
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
what now we do,
we strangers in our perfect pose of sorrow?
we have walked more miles than the roots left unattended.
hungry men no older than the sleeping violin;
too proud to beg a solitary tear
You could have written this for me dear Melvin. Pain and sorrow loss yet such an amazing amount of dignity. Kudos. 💖
most kind, as always Teddy.
beautiful!
(I always wished for brothers
so this hits home for me
I connect to it pleading tone
worded, with a defiant ink)
thank you! dear Poet
thank you my friend.
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