AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wrote these. Poetry is not my forte. I just like exploring things and poetry allows me to ask things in a special way, without a special need for grammar, although it's still a concern. Give me your thoughts, but, as this isn't my main thing, I rarely change much.
The gloom awaits me,
I see it plainly.
I try to avoid.
Attempt made in vain.
I feel a bright spot,
Up ahead, through the darkness.
I can't see, though I know it's there.
People have this happen
Every day. Before
the Light of Day comes
the stark colors of Night.
I sit on my heraldic mantle
of the written word, looking into each
as though they were the illuminators
Not only of thought and vision,
But also of the awaiting gloom
of ignorance. Such majesty here,
it's amazing how unmajestic the gloom
Outside looks.
I am a lover,
awaiting what be coming.
But, I sit up the throne
of Bachelors, lifting,br>
myself off only for brief
Periods of mistaken loyalties.
I look at those, the ones
there, sitting, feeling ever so
in the feeling, loving each
other as though that was the
Moment. The one true
Moment when all life's aches
Are cured by the person in
Front of them, beside them.
Moonlight awaits them,
Their bodies together
In a rythmic dance.
The ecstacy increasing each moment
Until the fountain of love
Is fired.
They lay, thinking, maybe sleeping,
Let the mutual silence be the conversation.
Oh, how does Heaven and Earth come
Up with these things, these ideas
For mere mortals to be so close
To the peace obviously in the hands
Of those spirits without our natural world?
I can see, almost taste, the loving
embrace. The soft body,the smell
of the hair. But, yet, I live, after all
this imagination, without.
How could anything be more
Hellish than the reality.