Leaking Pen

(Wellington, New Zealand)

A Dead Possum and A Plucked Flower


A dead possum and a plucked flower
Lay side by side on the curb of my street
Its springtime, its daybreak
What is unnatural with this natural act?
When Death reigns so early in springtime
This image frozen in time
In the garden of my mind
Morning dew weeping
Tears from God's eyes
Cascading down from His broken heart
Curtain of his temple torn apart
Storms approaching, darkening horizon
I bury my soul in poetry
For in its words I find my solace
My poetry weeps, it cries, it laments
An extension of God's echo
To experience a loss
Of life in the spring of life
Who will stand with me and weep?
Who will stands with me and mourn?
Who will stand with grief and me?
Who will understand my reluctant walk
In the valley of shadows of eternal darkness
I stand-alone.
As night falls descends
And the Sun hides its face
And the moon slit its wrist
To a sliver of itself
I fade into thinness
Feasting from the smorgasbord of death's spread
In full display on the table of life
My plate of plenty full of cracks
Bursting with discarded morsels
From death's appetite
Its fangs overreaching
I'll do my best with what I have
I'll do my best with where I am
I need to grieve; I leave my faith at my doorsteps
I will ignore its knocks
I am with deaf ears
I am in title to my sadness
I am in title to my madness
I rebel against God and his devil
For they choose my stage for their warfare
These pulls and pushes between the two divinities
Snapping the rope of my faith from under me
One day I will sail back to its harbor
But now I need my angry sword
Lashing out from my soul
If you blame me for blasphemy
So be it, let it be
I am honest for the way I feel
I don't conceal my mirror's reflection
If you choose to look the other way
And ignore my pain from within
One day the sail in your boat will tear
And you will understand the sinking of my ship

Copyright leaking Pen 2012
March 30 2012

Submitted: Sunday, September 09, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013

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Comments about this poem (A Dead Possum and A Plucked Flower by Leaking Pen )

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  • Bri Edwards (7/24/2013 5:16:00 PM)

    i was drawn to this by the title; i guess that is often what happens! i was a bit surprised by what i found, but not disappointed.
    i feel there are several typos(?) in the poem, including here: ...I need to grief; I leave my faith at my doorsteps
    I will ignore its knocks.....i would suggest i need grief or i need to grieve. and does its knocks refer to the knocks of death?
    in the next two lines:
    I am in title to my sadness
    I am in tile to my madness
    i like rhyming, but i don't understand title or the similar tile.

    i especially like the last FIFTEEN lines. very nice! thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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