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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1034147
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#1034147 added June 23, 2022 at 9:24pm
Restrictions: None
The Tender Trap…
Repurposed To Love

you are so beautiful…shall I compare?

I was your refuse, innocently picked up,
never thrown away. Sorry
I darken your doorstep to this day.

Broken, maybe
you thought you could fix me.
I know what I am,
fed your breath, recycled,
used love seeking redemption,
sought by many for reclamation.

Trash isn’t perfect, once used. Sorry
I darken the places you reside
where I hide in delusion
from life, the many people failed
sending me tumbling down a road,
snagged in Rose thorns,
avoiding Ash of smoldering, unattended fire,
colliding right into your Heather,
feeding the blooming
until I didn’t know how to feed you
or me anymore, recede
into soil as memories remind,
haunt one fleeing label of unworthy.

You did not do this,
though I cringe at reminders
I don’t live up to your purpose,
despite instruction to correct,
love dutifully, when unfulfilled myself
inside. More than trash,

dehumanized as waste or evil.
Which is it, so I can decide
how I’ll die trapped in your beautiful garden?


6.23.22

"The Bard's Hall Contest
It’s A Trap!

I understand this is dark and heavy. Many can’t avoid feeling it, whether or not one’s own perspective is true, yet obviously flawed, but felt just the same. And why, why have to explain, defend, when the missiles of love take aim? Not going to excuse the metaphor.

Who’s in my head? Surely, I realize some will object, the narcissists? The true guilty ones? Saints don’t defend themselves, but apologize, pray with concern. Throw a stone and see if you hit one. You won’t know, because they absorb our pain.

The mirror reflects back on me. Okay, who’s the most saintly then, obvious it’s not me? This is my confessional. Where have all the priests gone? Cue Paula Cole. World in decay, grabbing my leg from that quagmire. I won’t go without a fight.

If I accept all the above as truth, can I quit self-correcting, therapy? (Sorry, rhetorical) Point me to the road of redemption, away from purgatory, directly to sainthood? Didn’t think so. Kick the soap box out from under me…something implied here, can you infer?


A bit of deviation from this postulation, though dystopia is here (wacko, uh-huh), similar to the prophecies of 1984, employed by people (self-appointed PC Police, the media/mediums, your boss & more…) who want to come correct for their overlords…telling us the correct way to behave, move away from prophecies upheld by tenets of philosophy, religion that simple minds won’t indulge unless boiled down to a meme or stupid cat video…anyyyyywayyyyy….

ANOTHER DISCUSSION FOR ANOTHER DAY, (brought to you today by Coke (intentional to sound like a cool drug? — 😉😒



SONG EXPLAINED:
https://rsrihari.medium.com/feel-good-inc-explained-7b8d45366bcb

© Copyright 2022 He’s Brian K Compton 18 year (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1034147