Time’s Up. A poem.

I am a stupid man, a stubborn man

I’m waiting for you to come to me
To extend a hand (‘save me’, he cries)
But will I reject you, will I turn away
As I have before?

(so many times before, always repeating the same old mistakes, cap in hand, then ‘no thanks, i’m okay, I can manage, I can do this alone, I don’t need your help’, can’t you see that he’s drowning)

What makes it so hard to take your proffered hand
To swallow my pride and let you in
To stop HATING myself
To stop KILLING myself
Every NIGHT and every DAY

(every heartbeat, every notion, every teardrop, just wash him clean so he can wake up and start the day again and maybe, just maybe, he can get through that day, then get through that night, rinse and repeat, again and again and again and again) 

I am a stupid man, a stubborn man

And I’m nearly done

Time’s up

 

Okay, this poem’s a bit dark. But then, I’m a pretty dark person. My poems reflect all aspects of me, not just the happy stuff. (‘Happy stuff?’ I hear you say. ‘When have you ever written happy poems?’ Good point. Scratch what I said earlier.)

Haiku(n see you)

Edge

This edge, razor sharp
Ballet that tests your mettle  
One misstep: deep cuts

Rip

Her eyes, hidden depths
Breaking the surface tension
Rip tide, drowning me

Spirit

Stronger now, I walk
Inside my mind’s eye, I dream
Universally

 

I love writing Haiku – 5/7/5 syllabic compounds of poetic magic.

It’s like baking a very small, very tasty, cake. Only better.

Saved. A poem.

I walk in the light
Justified
I walk in the Word
Sanctified
I, by His Grace
Forgiven
I, the sinner saved
Forever

As a Christian I find I don’t write enough poetry about my God. Time to rectify that.

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