Tag: Hope

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Need That I Mention

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Write words,
sing songs,
pen sonnets,
live long.

The rest,
is perilous,
filled with dread,
that’s vacuous.

Shallow in mind?
Broaden the spirit,
seek the sky,
learn to live within it

Reach for the stars,
jump for the moon.
Rocket to Venus,
or Mars’ subway’s a boon.

Depth-less black,
of countless dimensions,
I live in them all,
need that I mention?

Earth’s no bore,
but neither’s the sky,
two ladies forever,
bound to comply,

with the whims of a universe,
I wish I could convey,
How grand it would be
if on Earth we didn’t stay.

But such is our nature,
that we must remember,
to take things a step at a time,
lest ourselves and our dreams we endanger.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Metamorphosis

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Metamorphosis is a change,
one of greater range,
than shifted perspective or minor amendment.

It is the growth of one,
whom once graced by the sun,
finds peace in themselves and their surroundings.

It is the molting,
of a deep inner soul-thing,
and not to be taken without its grains of salt.

Ne’er to be avoided,
but reaped and rewarded,
is one with patience and agility.

When at last,
no longer the past,
plots and paths the future’s course,

Then Metamorphosis,
hath formed unbeatable forces,
of mind and heart and body.

Once cocooned,
those that it’s roomed,
fear reprisal and grace.

But on the other side,
flows a great tide,
that welcomes all with willing arms.

Fear not,
the change that you’ve got,
for it is nothing more,
than a metamorphosis,
soul-fire, that’s sore,
from long being hidden.

Find peace,
in release,
of burdens and fears,
then metamorphose,
all whom oppose those,
and return to life appeased.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Ruminations

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

When of Death I speak,
your senses need not feel weak,
nor falter as if meek.
For these are Ruminations,
those which I keep,

locked away and out of sight,
lest I wish to incite,
a brawl, a melee, some primal fight.
So use your intuitions,
lead with only your own light.

For there may be gods or devils or kings,
none of which to my liking.
And though disagreements may be striking,
always resist the temptations,
to become the brutal viking.

Instead, live and laugh and love and die,
but fear nothing that gives no reply.
For if, with an end you must comply,
remember the best of conditions:
you were born in this world, alone, don’t cry.

To change the situation?
Accept your feeble station;
80 years or so with earth as your location.
So in my belabored loquation
I bid you luck and love, all of life’s libation.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Wisely Depraved

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

What can I say?
What is with this day–
words of wisdom,
wisely depraved.

I’m sick of doubt,
relentless sorrow–
being locked out,
never seeing tomorrow.

Why do we run?
To escape the sun?
Where can we go?
To an old film show?

Who is the one,
called to come,
where’s their name?
Lost to the sun.
“The words of wisdom,
all but forgotten.
Will they be remembered
in the final sum?

It moves with a singular certainty
as if all is meant to pass,
Time, the great uniformity,
A shepherd of lad and lass.

We are all one,
under the sun,
we all become,
once frightened, undone.

But stars sing a song,
ever distant, never wrong:
Won’t you come, come along,
help yourself,
help someone,
avoid the prong?

We all feel pleasure,
we all know pain
and in the end,
we all lose the game.

When will we see?
When will it reign?
there can be no pleasure,
without pain
That it’s the only reason,
for the rain.

In the end we all succumb.
Yes, an end, will surely come–
end of light, of dark and then some,
end of days, lost to flight, all progress to be undone.