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One Eye On The Weather...

A bleak winter scape
Painted beyond cold panes of glass
Scarified grass withered and dry

The wind screams insults at him
Rattling the sill, seeking egress
The Wolf is at the door

Scarred wooden desk
Steaming cuppa coffee
Half smoked joint and cookie

The crap in his lungs
The ache in his bones
His robe belted tightly

Outside his domain
The world bright and cheerful
Bah! Humbug, a prisoner of himself

The light burns steady yellow
A pen full of ink, sucks at his head
And he falls sleeping at the wheel

Memories turned nightmares
Alighting at the edge of sanity
Conscience and consciousness concussed

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


I see a vast impovement in your writing I do like this one it is full of imagery

Let your mercy spill on all those
burning hearts in hell( L.Cohen)

your appreciation of my newest poem. Is it because it isn't in rhyme? ~ Geezer, [please]

Come to chat every Thursday - 3:30 to 4:30 pm. EST.
With: c Lynn Brooks and Geezer

author comment

I agree with Lynn, your writing is good but this one is superb. Abstract but not enough to leave the reader tilting their head in questions. I loved it.

Pegasus was a genius,
living within a suit of difference.
He liked what he was,
nodded in respect and
simply flew . . . away.

By: K. Mulroney

" I am who I am, say what I say, do what I do. With no apology."

I have written many abstract poems; maybe not as many as I have of rhyme, but a fair number of them. Usually, they are of an introspective nature, or of memories. On this occasion, I had been reading some old works of one of our members who is now deceased. The line: "The Wolf is at the door" is in tribute to him. He was a minimalist and we traded ideas and I often imitated his style. [ As far as I know, he never wrote rhyme, but was a fan of my "Killer" poems, which are mostly in rhyme.] ~ Geezer.

Come to chat every Thursday - 3:30 to 4:30 pm. EST.
With: c Lynn Brooks and Geezer

author comment

come out of our innermost links
which may have love kinks or kins links
any emotion which makes one spring
takes care of summer autumn and winter
when they spring
you match us most
that's why I LOVE to spring
when you upon my poems
bring a touch of
natural spring
i ain't too sure you will appreciate
what i mean
but spring
it energises me

I love the flows of this poem, tho' I have to go deep in understanding this great, poem, by my mentor.


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