Tag: verse

Poetry-Thing Thursday: A Horizon Ruined

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 3 Comments

A horizon ruined.
Fires ashen, blue and
red, white hot.

Nuclear winter,
snow-blackened cinder,
burns the souls of the not.

Man’s insanity,
manifests before me,
guns and bombs scream at their treat.

Overhead
birds of the dead,
prey upon the willing defeat.

No more air,
Earth’s frayed hair,
both decayed in madness.

And so I sit,
struggling with it,
for all I know is sadness.

What I have seen,
A thought only gleaned,
wolves in sheep’s clothing.

A literal moment,
atomic component,
>and with no foreboding.

A feeling was rushed,
by someone whom crushed,
a button without thought.

Now we are doomed,
forever entombed,
by what a few’s greed sought.

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: Ensouls the Wraith

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Out to pasture,
these weary eyes.
No more a master,
of bidden disguise.

When of fate we think,
or the fruit of Knowledge seek,
to satiate or drink,
we recognize the meek.

Inherit wisdom,
a fist to raise when,
enthralled by freedom,
controlled by a wasteful then.

Violence abhorred,
a beast unbidden,
peace had soared,
but never been ridden.

Masks of faith,
unruly with hate,
ensouls the wraith,
whom did the dove, decapitate.

Mongering fear,
missing their prophet,
a silent tear,
they’ve all but forgot it.

Should history again come to pass,
know you are not the last,
to shed grief from Man’s outcast.
You’ve only the Earth as your lass.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Encompassed in Rain

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

It’s begun to rain,
the first drops of change,
and here I sit,
ever in chains.

Then, something new
calls out to claim
closer now I am,
to the source of pain.

Without regret
I dodge shame.
Though I never forget,
myself, I do remain.

While the thunder rolls,
out across the plain.
The drops are larger,
of fresh refrain.

Here I can become,
that beyond name.
So here I sit,
encompassed in rain.

All things succumb,
In gentle May repose
All with rule of thumb,
the meek shall ever row.

For them I say this:
never falter on the path,
nor lose sight of the math,
return in time to that past;
the deepening rain,
and literature of last.