A Poet's Heart

by Stormy Monday

What would sunder a poet’s heart more
than being ignored?
It is no doubt, not being heard.
The sediments of my words,
my thoughts
echo in abandoned stations,
litter busy sidewalks,
and suffer lonely street corners.

Murdered by numbers that
keep time with my patience,
stopping clocks and disappearing acts 
keep me guessing 
for the future 
of my life 
and of humankind.

My words bounce off steel buildings,
left cold and shivering
by cyber roadsides
From a lovers fingers I hear the blatant
click clacking over my words
pass right by my heart
and leave me running behind 
begging for his ear to listen.

Flickering lights populate the city
picturesque of a limited intelligence.
Pure evidence of forgotten humanity
and our righteous beginnings.
I shout out at the street lights,


You can stand there in your obscene arrogance but

In my struggle,
my spirit continues to dwell in 
the primordial waters of my ancestors.
I seek redemption in the sacred tombs
of the forgotten Kings and Queens.
HE in many faces pays me favor 
for my deligence in keeping the message
and history lifted 
in this sacrilegious world.

Blessed are my tears for the cause.
I am one of many fighting and
surviving the perils of psuedo propinquity.
My words are not without conviction
nor are they without deed.

I will ride or die for these words.

find me at the end of the road   
among the ranks
of the enlightened souls.
While these truths guide me and 
lead me to promised shores
the ignorant shall remain nameless
in the eyes of a true soldier.

This is where I began,
this is what I am,
and here is where
I will take my last breathe.

A Poet's Heart by Stormy Monday

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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