Be kind….
…. words don’t rewind
We walk along magenta paths,
Where twilight coolness gently bathes our steps,
The laden vines, in clusters, hang low,
Teasing with a promise, sweet, yet sharp to taste,
In another’s golden field,
Silken amber honey flows.
In memory’s reverie, we trace the lines
Of Thomas Chatterton, whose fate entwines
With fleeting years and early twilight’s end,
A poet's heart the shadows would transcend.
Born in Bristol’s lanes, beneath grey skies' embrace,
Thomas wandered, with a poet’s fragile grace.
Enamoured by old scripts in oak confined,
A spirit haunted by a fevered mind.
He fashioned verses in medieval guise,
A ploy that led to murmurs and surmise.
Rowley’s name adorned his vibrant scrolls,
Yet youth and hunger carved unwelcome tolls.
Yet life unkind, in shadows, cast him low,
Amidst the sorrow, where dreams lay fallow.
Magenta paths now lead us through his plight,
Beyond despair, in fleeting twilight.
Cool seeps into the waning light,
A melancholic beauty, soft, yet bright.
In London’s streets, where dreams turned sour,
Destitution’s grip, tightened every hour.
A tender boy who sought acclaim through quill,
Found solace in the silence, shadows still.
Beneath the boughs, where sorrows intertwine,
Chatterton sought solace, brief respite.
His words, ripe for picking, turned bitter, dry,
Amidst neglect, where hope was left to die.
August winds whispered as his spirit broke,
A bottle of arsenic, despair's harsh yoke.
The world looked on, not knowing what they’d lost,
A poet’s voice, now tethered to the cost.
In memory’s shadow, we find the truth,
Of a young poet’s bitter, fleeting youth.
In another’s field, beyond despair,
Where life's harsh trials start to repair.
Silken amber honey flows so pure,
A testament to dreams that must endure.
Walk with him through twilight’s bitter chill,
Where poets’ hopes, in silence, linger still.
Magenta paths reveal the truth of strife,
Homeless youth with dreams of a better life.
Through words and whispers in the evening's glow,
Let Chatterton’s lost voice gently show,
The way from destitution’s dark embrace,
To fields of hope, where dreams find grace.
For every year, each moment’s gentle beat,
Is a testament that life, though bittersweet,
Holds promise in the face of dire despair,
A gift to cherish, nurture, and repair.
Though Chatterton’s young life met early dusk,
His legacy remains, beyond the husk.
A poignant reminder, stark and true,
Of lives unlived, and dreams that break anew.
From destitution’s harsh and bitter trials,
We learn to walk with hope, through life’s aisles,
Magenta paths where silken honey grows,
In fields of grace, where every dream still flows.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 20th, 2024 05:25
- Comment from author about the poem: 'Twas men's mental health day yesterday and today the birthday of Thomas Chatterton (20 Nov., 1752 - 24 Aug., 1770), his life story will ever bug me. More of this in a blog/journal entry perhaps. Trigger warning: self-harm & suicide content. Originally entitled “Redressing the Chatterton Effect.”
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments8
A beautiful tribute to a poet warning about mental health issues. Very nicely captured in this biography, a poetic form.
Thanks Soren it’s an expanded treatment of a short poem entitled: “Chatterton’s Redress” https://mypoeticside.com/show-poem-151836
This is quite a master piece. The cadence and rhyme are impeccable. There is an obvious sadness in Thomas Chatterton's life but this poem is a magnificent tribute to a poet who died at 17. Well done
Thanks DW, takes a lot of work to get this clock ticking. I suppose the loss of youth that we alive also experience vicariously is a strong impetus to write about with some technical poetic finery. But then again another day or mood may urge me to go “heavy metal” on it as well.
Wonderful job friend. A fitting poetic tribute and raising awareness at the same time. Bravo! 🌹👏🖤
Thanks mate! 🙏🏻
You're welcome!
Beautiful tribute
Thanks Tony 🙏🏻
You're welcome
This is excellent reads like an abridged version of Percival's Narrative .. Neville 😎👍👍
Now ya just got another book onto my to-read list!
Fine write and acclamation arqios.
Andy
Thanks Andy 🙏🏻
Ah, this guy. Shone brightly, briefly, fell into an open grave a few days before taking his own life. Is this the definition of tragedy, or what? nice.
Now that’s worth another scribble, another thought, another share!
Superb work.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.