Mixed Feelings

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“Poetry might

be defined

as the clear

expression of

mixed feelings.”

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~  W.H. Auden

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Elfje:         (Cinquain)    classic: each word only one syllable

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kind

be nice

me and you

two make a whole

love

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Lune:    5 / 3 / 5

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mixed feelings arise
cry or laugh
just try to do both
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Poem:

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escorted by a flock of angels
the child was full of expectations
disappointments followed and his life was overrun
he chased away the angels, one by one

the devil saw his opening and pounced
a claim to the child’s soul he pronounced
sitting on the child’s shoulder the devil was right at home
looking for trouble the child did roam

the devil made sure trouble found him
the child became a man who lived in sin
drugs, alcohol, corrupting others morals
he boasted he invented the negative laurels

Satan’s disease wanted him to be alone
suicide the devil did condone
use and abuse lead him to the brink
his soul was bound using his blood as ink

to God every soul is a special prize
so God sent him an angel in disguise
the angel lead him to a place called the recovery hole
a place where he could redeem his soul

he found a room filled with kindred soul
one day at a time was their only goal
unconditional love, to think about others
similar stories all shared by brothers

suggested changes, the devil’s regret
they forgive the past, but never forget
his sobriety hinges on being altruistic
he learned a new language that is euphemistic

he has spiritual tools to keep the devil at bay
a Higher Power to whom he can pray
as he and his angel do the dance divine
today, for them, it is just one day at a time
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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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Into The Abyss

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“He drove his mind

into the abyss

where poetry

is written.”

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― George Orwell

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Elfje:

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mind

over matter

seeing is believing

illusions and skulduggery abound

mysticism

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Haiku

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rivers to oceans

water the essence of life

naming the seasons

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Poem:

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memories lost, memories rekindled
long timers share their stories from hell
their old faces scarred and wrinkled
of wedded bliss and good times they tell

moments of heroic courage and valor
fox hole prayers hoping to survive
the countries flag their favorite color
what the world was like in forty-five

the troops their  mighty numbers dwindl
some battles only remembered on library pages
their step and cadence no longer nimble
their cause and effort are one for the ages

how soon the next generation conveniently forgets
self consumed by their technological advances
will they eventually suffer agonizing regrets
indifference slowly diminishes their chances

the ego, the super ego, the id, debated
why does man want to destroy humanity
mementos and thoughts of the past desecrated
what will ever end this absurd insanity

don’t be the lemming, be the voice
when the swamp becomes putrid, pull the plug
hope and faith that there will be a time to rejoice
when all men will be greeted by a loving hug

history is know to repeat
can the cycle be broken
will Satan suffer defeat
can peace be the only language spoken

only time will tell

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ME and the Boss

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