self-portrait

October 23, 2017 at 2:58 pm Leave a comment

self-portrait

Your desk is scattered with fragments
of half-finished poems and ‘novels-in-progress,’
the burnt-out
butts of smoky days, you cough
almost constantly it seems

you have half-a-hundred letters
to a former lover you haven’t seen
in a year or two (you don’t quite remember, honestly,
how long

it’s been: once you could count
the days): scattered books
clutter your soul, your rooms:
but, though you’re occasionally

tempted to self-pity: still
loneliness is far more bearable
than having to bear
company (or so you tell yourself).

Still: at times, in ways,
it would be nice: to tie some knots, finish a poem or
novel or two:
to clear this endless clutter.

_________________________________________________________________________

I wonder why I titled the folder for this (computer folder, inside a folder [etc.] used for organizational purposes)…self-betrayal.

Entry filed under: Ancient Poetry, Apologia (a bad pun), defiitions, definitions, poetry, voices. Tags: , .

rainsong The Final and Absolute TRUTH

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