author's note: I took a single liberty, I know there is a non-word herein.
THE NEAR DEATH OF A WRITER
© R C Burnham
The darkness has finally come
Though de
eper than I feared
The reaper is standing in the corner
I refuse to meet his stare
The sounds of the sirens have gone silent
Mother's voice long dead and gone
And with father walking among the angels
Who is left to lead me on?
The wind comes howling like a banshee
Clouds are growing heavy as lead
My heart is now barely beating
As I imagine the writer being dead
I could just gift-wrap myself
In ribbons, blood and pain
Tossing myself into the reaper's arm
Only an epitaph to remain
But then sheer terror grabs me
Perhaps I would never even be missed
Such an unknown death and dying
Colder than a street whore's kiss
A scream - from way down deep inside
In fearful fright of non-remembrance
Anonymity - much worse than death
And my works a vain dis-membrance
I hit the switch and light fills the room
The gun goes back away
I rise and stagger for my pen
It seems the writer still has more to say....
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Comments: 52
What is the burn in the death of your soul burning to get out ?
Reading your self-ping from today, then reading this, and adding two and two is giving me the chills! What's wrong, dear buddy? If you need to talk to someone, I'm there on Skype, okay? Come talk whenever you feel like it. I'm here for you, my good friend.
The poem itself, in its simplicity, is at once touching and grim, and written with that utter lack of pretence that is your hallmark and forte. Thank you for writing and sharing this with us, Cantering Cowboy - and yes, I like the pen as a gun better any day!
(((((((((((((Robert))))))))))))))
…
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God has blessed you. Thanks for sharing this one. I very much enjoyed it.
And of course it's complicated.
Glome, I am blessed, I don't know why but I know I do take solace in my writing.
God Bless.
I would rather never read another one of your poems, as much of a loss as that would be, if I knew it meant that you had forever left such thoughts and feelings behind.
..and thanks be for that :)
Writing is a good outlet for you and you handle the pen with aplomb.
Thanks.
Instead of pain, go walking out in the rain.
Take that hurt, and rage and go do something constructive.
Focus takes away bad impulses and turns them to good.
I hope you read this non rhyming poem to heart and read between the lines.
Hugs, dear friend.
Depression that doesn't go away in a few days or weeks needs skilled help. The sad fact is that too many feel that they should be able to say the right words, turn their sign around, change their outlook, pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and all will be fine--doesn't work!
I hope to see lots of your poetry and to hear that you're feeling great about yourself.
Thank you for posting to READING BOOKS ONLINE!