Age is a demon,
age is a shield
Age is a weapon,
age makes you yield
Age is redundant,
age self-defies
Age is the truth,
age often lies
Age calls within you,
age calls without
Age comes to get you,
age never doubts
Age self-enlightens,
age brings the dark
Age keeps the ledger,
—age the last mark
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
Angel Guardian
In the still of night, between the sheets, she came to
me again, her mission clear, I must adhere—and let
the dream begin
My fears and doubt she then ignored, and covered both
with dust, to mask the past and future lies, whose
weakness I entrust
In the dimming light her wings were spread, as sheet
and blanket flew, and from her back, a world
estranged—from what I thought I knew
She burned my eyes and entered deep, to places I
had banned, and far within what I’d become—she
let go of my hand
Now looking back, I see the dust, it marks my entry
clear, and covers up my last denial—and buries
every fear
The dream to end, my soul to mend, new eyes to open
wide, but when they close, my spirit knows—the truth
now sleeps inside
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
Literal Obesity
Word count a burden,
lines adding weight
Meaning gets crushed,
—feelings deflate
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: June 27th, 2017 09:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
Offline)
Comments3
Well written and expressed
Thanks, Tony
Welcime
Age is a paradox. Enjoyed, sir.
Thanks, Heather
Age is only a number though
just embrace it or let it go!
Great poems Kurt, both of them.
I wish it were—only a number.
Thanks, Fred
Kurt,
we could probably write and discuss about age for long time. I tend to simply disregard it in my mind, until I am reminded by my body, usually in a rather painful way!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.