Poem with Anglo-Saxon literature. Contains alliterations, caesuras, and kenning.
|Land of Negligence
I can't recall when the first war-needles shot through my weary
soul, though I’ve had plenty in my time. I’ve climbed mountains of
still-wounds and for ages I’ve questioned my sanity. Though,
you would be surprised, for I have lyrical-woe that shouts from the page:
all the memories of those war-needles and the loss of my head-matter.
From the verse that calls out, you’ll witness how the
sophistication shattered several stargazing thoughts. Nevertheless,
you’ll still see me standing with my bones and flesh fixed on the faithful
page where my strength is drawn. I caught the chain with clenching fists
and swung my life around with the luck of love and rage
which left me here where I walk today; free from most of my misery
that was holding me hurt and hostage for years bygone.
A home with heat, pristine river-sweat, and unsoiled space.
September 23, 2014