Loves Dead Shores

Today’s poem brought a couple of details to my often self judgmental mind. Of which I have strived to correct, but I dont think I succeed very well at this point. But todays poem centers around a thought or a question, what wold happen if a Love turned sour? Or the white screen of white lies, never hid or disguised the path that one wandered down.

Thus they carried their own fate within the tide of their white lies along with the heart of love, their love partner. This is where todays poem sets at. Striving to build upon this little thread. In itself this is todays poem.

Result of My self Judgment:

I have realised one of many issues with my writings that I write my poetry as if they were little stories. Something I am not very fond of nor do I believe I do a great task at this. Basically I am striving to build poetry outside of this narrative of composing a story around them within the lines of the poems. I aim in future to build the poems to stand for themselves and have the readers discover whatever narrative that is found.

In a way, it is a means of self exploration within one’s mind and desire t create within a certain method. I strived at the start of this poem to avoid that certain narrative, But I am certain I wandered down that same route.

Anyways, having said that, Please enjoy this poem

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Loves Dead Shores



She sat there drawing circles in the sand,
Standing by instinct keeping cards in hand,
Blown in winds of fate guided by desires,
Hearts fires burn brightly no short cuts or wires.


 The rivers of regret flow fast today,
Past the shores of tranquillity and stay.
The beating heart matches music in kind,
Staring blindly beyond this day in mind.


Despair runs on a two lane road nowhere,
Feelings floating like an empty prayer.
As he paces about within his mind,
Uncertain where to turn, here, lost and blind.


White lies ne’er builds a screen or hide those tales,
Certain where scales would fall like all his trails.
Like incoming tides she knew of their fate,
Beyond the curtain of false tracks, too late.


The house of cards never stands time or guards,
Lies built like cards last little time or yards.
Where love fails and restricts, then dispose of,
Set free a beating heart to soar above.
 



©  Pat Fitzgerald 2023

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MiSTAKES & TYPOS:

On occasions Mistakes and typos make their way onto the finished and published post. This has never been on purpose but at times they miss my eye when editing posts. BUT rest assured I correct and update the posts the moment I discover any such mistakes. Yet some do take a little longer than other because I have or may not find them. Thank you for understanding this.

PLEASE BE POLITE:

I welcome comments that folks decide to post. BUT I always ask that comments are in a Polite manner.

However I do misspell and will correct. IF YOU WISH TO POINT OUT MISTAKES, Please take into consideration that If I make mistakes they are not on purpose. Thank You for understanding any mistakes.

In finishing please stay safe and take care, also when possible show a little loving care to those about you in society who may be in need of such loving care. A little positive output in life is a great start for folks in a world hit with rushing about in their own world.

Until Next Time, Cheers.

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