A Withering Sail

He hungers not
For what the ocean may yield
As his eternity winds down
Trudging slow toward its final hour

Home
Sways atop the bustling tide
Creaking and moaning
Her bones rusted and brittle
Tired from her long way
Courting generations shore to shore

The man
Holds steady at the helm
With only the lapping waves
To ease his battle hardened earlobes

White locks flutter
As the high noon star crumbles
Disintegrating, into a cool blistering purple

But the ages dragged on
With a glare of hopelessness
Weighted by the open, the vast and empty

Gem encrusted nights
No longer blanket the shuttering vagabond
With drained pupils fixed forward
And his frail chattering limbs, guiding the helm
But he does not levy an inch
Trudging westward, engulfed in nightfall

Garbed in Blue

Squawking buzzards
Hang above my rigid frame
Awaiting, with a sickly hunger
Gathering, massing
Thieving of these winter skies

Far gone and bleeding
Where the muskets bore through
Not a whimper in my voice
Not a thought in my skull
I graciously
Die, blissfully unaware

It was a fleeting honor
For the twentieth Maine
Garbed in sacred blue
Bayonets at the ready

We sprang for madness
Shouting to higher glory
As the cannons butchered, and maimed
Sparring not a soul
No fresh face unscathed
I caught my fate
Swift, clean, and painless
Another notch to their belts
Another name, pressed and sold

Closure

In somber resolve
Where she perished and dissolved
Disheveled and dismembered
For the poor souls to recall

With one passing thought
I crumbled, grief stricken and distraught
All for her greater good
Far beyond, what is tame and understood

Scorn
Wields her dominance, like an iron saber
Thrust in me, so I may gush and savor
Where will I turn in the wisps of madness?
Cursed and deranged, somber and breathless
Never to attain
What was, blissfully insane

Poets

Our alabaster well
Into which we all drain
Splitting open
And spilling into a greater voyage

Our voices
All swarm for the same motive
Drawn to the warmth afar
Inside of our distant and longing kin

Dare to send them off
Like blind muzzle fire into the night
Sprawling its inferno
Resonating and burning
Centuries, beyond us all

Tune out the universe
And lead by the edge of your quill
Commanding the words, to fall in line
And inspiring the winded, to carry on brazen!

Rationed Loneliness (My first attempt at rhyming)

In blessed gloom
I stowed away
My quiet vessel
Where I toil and fray

The dreary open
Surrounds, and pummels my agony
Wretchedly marooned
Rotting and enslaved by atrophy

This solitude Ive earned
Swallows, the fabric of brotherhood
Crafting my comfort in emptiness
Conditioned, to be blissfully misunderstood

I ration this loneliness
Treasuring its deathly bloom
Where I speak softly, of my worldly ills
In the arms of blessed gloom

All That I Want

I will not pardon these thoughts
That linger, safe within me
The shadow she has cast
And the fragrance she exudes
Tarnishes my fear
And stirs to life my better half

She is the comfort
I reach for in fog of night
The name i cry out
In elation and despair

Our interwoven thoughts
Are a beacon of solidarity
Chaperoning the like minded
To a safer place to hide

And i dream
Of when, and where
To pluck from the branches
The fruits of a lover's toil

Leaning against the bark, whole and content
To nestle against her warmth
No longer shaken by fear

Accursed Reluctance

She holds back with splendid reluctance
Ever so slightly, spending her glances upon me
I too, remained kept in silence
Warding off my most primal urges
Favoring this new found infatuation

A stunning spectacle
Swayed with perfect execution
Her glances, chiming for my company
Chaperoned by a sensual, captivating grin
And far too soon
Energized by my foolish reluctance
My prized visual has fled from sight
Taken up by the winding concrete
Full on its own contempt
All carefully accented, with a sarcastic monotone

After her I tumbled with vigor
Driven to a new hope
Heaven bound and drunk on forgiveness
To heal once again, in the presence of adoration
Yet scathed I relent
Held off by a mounting and tiresome distance

Her flawless persona
Meshes and interweaves with the bland and blank
Squandered upon the other side
All for the liking, of a spiteful wretch
All for her status quot, embellished by luxury

 Here's to another poem about "the one that got away". Cheers! :) I'm starting to realize a trend in the type of girls i am attracted to. Tall, curvy, brunette, curly hair, glasses and varying in skin tone. (I do not discriminate in that regard at least.) Also, this poem is featured in my book "Guardian of the Inkwell: A Collection of Ramblings of the Poetic Persuasion"  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/guardian-of-the-inkwell/id584542847?mt=11 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/guardian-of-the-inkwell-jr-willi-wright-william-l/1113985910  http://www.lulu.com/us/en/shop/william-l-wright-jr/guardian-of-the-inkwell-a-collection-of-ramblings-of-the-poetic-persuasion/ebook/product-20548322.html IT'S FREE!

Stillborn Thoughts

 These vast arrays of thoughts
Boil halfway within my skull
Darting, lively through my limbs
To cool and subside
Underneath my docile fingertips

These stillborn thoughts
Plague the lofty heart in me
Coming to pass
Within the lush hallow of my cranium
And then vanish in an instant
Taken from me,
As the pride my mother once instilled

Do I dare recover?
Pry into the mystic haze
And brandish the unwanted
The undercooked
The limp and dormant
My warmth to relish in, for just the moment

Or do I despair?
Recede as my mother wishes
And reach for what is closest and tame

 I'm sorry, i'm drawing a blank tonight. I was going to write a poem about a sniper's last stand at the end of the Spanish civil war but i doubted myself.. I was going to write about hurdling toward the ground in plain crash, but i doubted myself.. I was going to write how my parents don't value my craft and believe i should pursue something that will make me rich, but i doubted myself and i don't have the stomach to say what i really want to say. I keep thinking "What if the moment i finish writing this, both of my parents suddenly dropped dead.. How would i feel then?" If you cant tell by now, i'm having one of my mood swings which will soon evolve into a full blown anxiety attack. I'd better buckle up.

The Death March

Death,
Drones on and on above
Spanning the great sky
And roaring its creed of devastation

The cities, all howl in despair
As the winged beasts trudge on
Pummeling the jagged lives below

And the fury of hellfire,
lashes forth!
Dashing through the serpent streets
Consuming, and pillaging
Hungering  and ravaging

By the quiet of dawn
Blood lust evaporates
Leaving its trail of carnage
Charred and smoldering
Stripped of its homely spirit

Yet death,
Drones on and on above
Spanning the great sky
Pistons humming and lurking

 How many lives do you think were destroyed by British, American, German, Russian and Japanese bombers combined? Ughh.. I have an unhealthy obsession with the early 1900's to the late 1950's. Since the age of twelve ive been deeply infatuated with military history, especially in the time period i mentioned above.  In other news, my first anthology of poems entitled "Guardian of the Inkwell: A Collection of Ramblings of the Poetic Persuasion" is now available for free at Barnes & Noble.com Link here if you wish to  download or preview: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/guardian-of-the-inkwell-jr-willi-wright-william-l/1113985910

Ghosts in the Flask

 
The elixir swirls
Captive, to the confines of my girth
Jolting, my skin and bones to life!
As I heave the consequences of my clouded earth!

Hunched over
I dragged my pathetic frame
Spewed my deathly sorrows
Then burrowed inside of my hallow shell

And the words came to pass
Pestered, by my empty promises
My every crushed commitment
And a legion of slurred compliments

I cradled my skull
Shutting out the onslaught of guilt
Whilst heaving my tainted guts
With moist pupils, captured in red
Along with these devilish ghosts
The lessons learned, also shall not pass

 My God, i need to slow down.. I remember the night my friend Danny drank so much he got alcohol poisoning. All of my friends were in a panic, some of them were crying, everyone was shouting and through that experience I still didn’t learn to slow down. Danny is fine by the way, he doesn’t drink so much these days.