Sonnet for Old Age
I will be deep, buried below the ground
Asleep, a ghoul in a shadowy grave Like you, beside your table turning gray!
Oh mother, your eyes never did regret; Ah, yes, me, me! We may be happy yet,
Travel afar, but not yet, to-day.
When you grew old, youd often say:
Youll get old like me, some far-off day! (I feel like this, this very evening).
When I was young, to my son Id say, Cody: with your busy mind, keep forefront,
Now listen to me he called dad! Hell be held long in remembering.
#1527 21/10/2006
The Bird-gods
Before the making of man
The Bird-gods rule the lands:
Ere, love and war took place then!
The Hawks and the Eagles raced:
Clawful, fluttered, muttered:
They cast (somehow) to each other:
An evil magical spell, then
Embracing they fell.
Then man appeared and found fire,
But somehow, it was wiped clean:
The memory of the Bird-gods,
From mans brain.
#1528 21/10/2006
Are the Dead, Dead?
Are not the dead, dead?
It is not strange to reach me
I am at present, reaching out of the dark
To see you (or out of the light)
To see you
Look around
Fear not
I am dead.
But I wrote this for you
Tis truethe world
Is mad
Go on
You will join me soon.
Note: This poem was found after ten years, sitting in the back of one of my old books, thought Id bring it to life. 8/1996 (#1529); at this time, the time I wrote this, I was very ill, not knowing if my system (body) was ever going to recover from a number of atrophies. But it did somewhat.
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Political
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