Beyond the Pain

I just received a piece of writing advice: “You can’t think your way out of a writing problem, you need to write your way out of a thinking problem.” Herewith submitted for your approval the poem that resulted from that advice.

The clock ticks.

Counting away

the seconds
Till the end
of me
and
my infernal
plans.

In the blink

of my lonely eye
there exists
a momentary
scintilla of
the absolut essence
of my dreams.

The Stygian depths

of my dreams
Go unplumbed,
Unrevealed,
Unwept,
Unsung,
by even me.

For to reveal

to unmask
the real me
would be to
expose
that gaping wound
that is the very
essential
me.

Copyright 2013, Lyle T. Lachmuth, All Rights Reserved

Frequently, when I am overwhelmed by emotion I write poetry. It helps sort out my feelings.

Recently I have been overwhelmed by grief and pain because of the death of 2 friends. I hereby submit:

Death

in it’s many guises

lurks near

to me.

I am not

afraid of her

for I have

survived

her siren song.

Yet her song

wounds me

still

for it calls

to her fatal

embrace

the ones I love.

I know not

whether

shall I ever

see, hear, touch

them

again.

Some do believe,

in angels,

demons,

ghosts,

and such.

Sadly,

I do not.

I believe

the Universe

is one giant

interconnected web

of energy.

And, I wish I

had the map

tracing the path

to the ones

I loved.