Waiting Mode
January 27, 2017
Life in a sad and waiting mode for life to cease
Thing with a watch to keep and time to crease
Tired of the old defects one should police
To hold one’s own
Has piled on years, its outlook like a heavy steel
Heart-sinker which details one’s final bed
Weary and half enamoured of its fearful dread
Although alone
The face oblivion beckons, speaks you soberly
One’s hopes a flutter fondly on ‘perhaps’
Yet even oblivion welcomes in adversity
Even attracts
Heart’s wandering fluctuations play so prettily
Now here now there as situations gray
Without an instrumental equanimity
From day to day
Rumours, bad deeds, of wars fulfil the palate
Big meaty cuts, succulent joints, carved-up
Servings of somethings happening debilitating grace
And going unheeded
Maybe the endtimes locally their bells toll just for me
Though that these peals also forecast a general demise
Alongst my thoughts; ’lest thoughts present to me contrary lies
As mockers
I do not want to live among the pain and so discover
Amain whether by prophesy or weariness do I
See good things dwindling slowly sliding by design
And peace go under
What’s left of civil civilisation, wherefore on what rack
Must ruinous desires of brutal tempers tear us up?
Crude in their defamations, following-through with vicious smack
Of barbarous marks
Offloading ugly actions upon homeless gathered here
Bestowing heartless straits upon an overburdened poor
Their posturings are bearings of a preened inflated air
One against another
Only what’s holy stands; this can withstand whatever
High flourishes the evil dwellers love to promenade
Placed in high places their blinded antinomies:
Pray God shall clear.
You can also find this poem at our steemit blog.