More Poetry

A Broken Man Dies

I feel the curtains drawing closed,

The final chapter written,

The searing fire of inspiration hosed,

By death I find I’m bidden

Resistance dimmed by fire dying,

Violent thrashing all for naught,

On death’s grey bed my final sighing,

No more resisting, though I ought

The spark of life forever lost,

I can’t bring myself to grieving,

Love’s final, lethal, ultimate cost,

Chest’s final life-breath heaving

I ponder this, my destiny,

As though I’d more to offer,

Laughing softly, now I’m free,

No more good deeds to proffer.

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Unfaithful

Faint murmurs, a steady rhythm,

And a grand entrance. Epic. Telling a story that deserves to be –

Nay –

Demands to be! Told,

Lest we forget, the awesome capabilities of man

To abuse women undeserving,

To say no

Thi--ng

Of innocent

Victim of her own society,

Portraying women as compliant accomplices in their own

Singular, solitary

Deaths, utterly undignified, and utterly

Pointless, sacrifice for

What? Is it dignity? Is that for what she died?

He would never,

Ever have approved had HE KNOWN! And yet,

Centered in the iron sights,

There she was, fresh out of the arms

Of another man

And he had known, yes,

When he’d heard…