Cryptic Grip

shorn, shattered moments

torn, tattered thoughts

tormented tries for pleasing peace

life once mattered more or less

now is scattered in wild wind frenzies

of then remembered.

swirling in the skirl of lost

as upward ever freezes

                                                                                                                                and darkness smiling

  teases

in where ever  

turns

Reviews

[M Breen]

"where ever turns" "in the skirl of lost". And in a poem, any poem, there is always a form that offers you grip.
Thanks, especially for the word ''skirl'.

[char]

Hunh. This poem is strangely beautiful. :)

[Jack Dawkins]

Wow this is some poem. I'm normally not a huge fan of aliteration but it certainly works here, it emphasizes the whirlwind of thoughts. And what a great line; 'swirling in the skirl of lost' the screech of lost conjures up the Munch painting 'The Scream." which to me so epipomizes this poem. Great stuff.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Wild seductive beauty, like a woman's wonderful locks being tossed and torn in a blizzard as her veil comes off. An amazing read. Quite an appetising first poem of yours to experience. Thank you for sharing and hope to see you again in another of yours. Have a good day.