I've been to the
bitter, dark place
where dreams are
decorations in
dilapidated houses,
a building haunted by
the ghosts of spring.
I tasted the wine of
whores and convicts
there.
I've prayed with the
broken and wasted.
I spent
days and months,
almost forever with
the feral men and
women of America in
homes not fit for fleas.
Then one cosmic day,
while the wounded slept,
I chased a beautiful
moth that escaped the flame.
And that has made all
the difference.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 27th, 2025 23:44
- Comment from author about the poem: My recently published books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse, are available on Amazon.com www.thomaswcase.com
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 75
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Tristan Robert Lange, Cheeky Missy, MarcWalk
Offline)
Comments9
Superb write🙏🏻🕊
ty
Yw
What a wonderful finish here, loved every bit of imagery and the positivity. 🌹
Thank you so much, sweet Teddy.
This poem speaks out of shanty town where grit is found. I love the last line it gives the poem a kick
Thank you.
A moth that escapes the flame. Now that is hope, flying fierce! Well done, my friend. Love this poem, tons! 🌹👏
Thanks.
You are welcome!
There's nothing quite like that twinkling glimmer in the smoky darkness of the seeming upper regions of hell to give the soul half a thread to grasp that we might escape, is there? Gorgeously rendered with excellent imagery and a haunting, heartening poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
I appreciate it.
Your poetry rings with truth and vision and carries me away from my doubts
Thanks, my friend.
May we all find such a Moth.
Nice one.
Thank you.
Blown away by this one - also love the Robert Frost reference at the end. A precarious road it’s been
Thank you. Much appreciated.
Shared this with my students in New York. We are blown away by the imagery.
The place you speak of sounds like here, but I know it can be anywhere. My student said this sounds like New York.
Great work, my friend.
- Marc
Thank you. Much appreciated.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.