Tear-Fighting Eyes

Apologies for lack of activity recently, but thankfully I have managed to finish a long-overdue piece of spoken word poetry. Hope you enjoy it.

One more wander into the cold
into the tundra of tales I’ve told.
Look through the tear-fighting eyes of old
into the hopeful heat the shadows hold.

As I fly through this winter world of mine
do I stay afloat or do I fall?
Between the two is a brittle line
as the bygone souls are bustling by
like electric painted brush strokes
on a canvas of lapse and lie.
White canvas specked with green;
much less green is traced in time.

Still agape and still I drift
through this world dubbed Feigning Eden.
Delicate teeth become enfeebled
and then my balance becomes uneven.
Grounding is attainable without such limits
as the sun in sombre seasons.  
These memories in my attrition
I’ve held them closely for some reason.

Oh Lord keep my feet on the ground
I’m already close enough to the stars
and living amongst enough for now.
Avoid me from rattling Eden’s door
and from fleeting flitters and wanes
for the days when hearts were pure.
Keep only what will matter
make Feigning Eden shatter
and the world spin on its axis like before.

And from this wander into the cold
let it be known that the portal closed
and the tear-fighting eyes are bold.
Paint my white canvas a fresh shade of gold.

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

there is a fine line between floating and falling...

i like this poem and its truth...and i wonder how that is...that memories can bring more tears sometimes than the actual event itself.

this was worth waiting for....glad to see you posting again.

jacob

[TheJordBaker]

thank you Jacob, I really appreciate it.