"Bargain"

0 Comments

"Bargain"


           "I know I craft from a prisoner's stance,
              the spirit, gagged and bound.
            I know that redemption is elegant trance,
              but wings make an awful sound.
            I breathe words in;
            I push death through,
              and with this crying pen,
            I pour it all on you.

              
            I know my voice screams on a page,
              though no one hears the sound.
            I know that the noise of a deaf mute's rage,
              defines the smile of a clown.
            I sleep with a veil;
            I crawl to the moon,
              everything's for sale,
              discounts coming soon.

            I know my heart is wilting fast,
              granite petals fade.
            I know my hands cannot last,
              I watch them turn to jade.
            I hear a heartbeat;
            I cannot find a vein,
              while passion melts heat,
              ink is my guilty stain.

            I dream of finer stronger lands,
              as I chase the mystery.
            But while I build them with my hands,
              my soul rips them from me.
              
              
         
   
            
              

            


         

Poem Comments

(0)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

mysterianne’s Poems (19)

Title Comments
Title Comments
"Worship" 0
"Bargain" 0
"Unfinished" 1
"Orphanne" 0
"Trade" 0
"Query" 1
"Demigod" 1
"Safe" 2
"I Will Stand" 2
"Loving Me" 0
"Heaven's Best" 1
"No More Holocausts" 3
"For Lady Jeanne Guyon", a great mystic 0
"Rest" 1
"Tears for Lucifer" 1
"Hungry" 0
"Cherubim's Lament" 1
"Mine" 2
"Only One Love" 2