Don’t
Don’t mean to ignore
I’m not sore
All is a chore
Can’t give more.
Don’t even consider
That I’ll be a bidder
For whatever is latest
Not feeling the greatest.
Don’t expect you to know
It’s been quite a blow
Nothing to show
Except my woe.
Don’t guess, however
That I can sever
What went before
It impacts rapport.
Don’t think, I’ll stop my ink
On my keyboard, I’m not bored
Memories pop, can’t stop
Saying what I feel, with zeal.
Don’t letup
If I don’t pick up
Mind elsewhere
Thousand-yard stare.
Don’t suppose
I’ll be quick to disclose
Sit in repose
‘Til I’m ready to compose.
Clenched
Teeth, jaw
Into the maw
Of anger
No stranger.
Body, fists
Make my lists
Bullseye
No lie.
Muscles, smiles
Seen for miles
Nothing to assuage
The river, Rage.
Vice grip
Made to strip
My ocean
Of emotion
No worries, you
Don’t call your crew.
Clenching is in me
I will not let you see.
No therapist
Rivals this typist
Nor can he resist
To be honest.
Cusp
On the verge
I merge
With sadness
Driving me to madness
Of tears that flow
Wherever I go,
When a voice, a place
Leaves its trace
Of him.
The grim,
Months ago, three
I am not free
Of sorrow.
Still, tomorrow,
I seek again to borrow
Strength, for Kilimanjaro.
Got a call yesterday
To say
It’s OK
To be away
To sit
To take a bit
Not try to grit
When emotions split.
“Decisions, I could not make
All my energy it did take.”
His words a relief
Amid my grief.
His death did stymie
Made my energy tiny
The heights I fight
To see The Light, as I write.
Thank you for taking the lead in calling out your bundle of raw emotions so directly. You do this in a way that many others feel yet are not able to identify or express. May your poetry have a cathartic effect on your pain and heart, and others’ too. There is reality, but there is also redemption, in God’s time.