Song of Relics (My first poem)

Vanishing points are trees and grass, Footsteps of death have been cemented, I know I too shall someday pass, Eternal rest with the lamented. Trials, tribulations, pain and sadness, Life’s axioms are full of starkness, Joy, laughter, happiness and madness, Forever lost in voids of darkness. And past post mortem it remains; a savage human competition, forever bound by fiscal chains, a concrete slab of life’s rendition. Some lie and cower in the shadows, Obscured by classes, caste and race, While others dominate the meadows Commending homage, awe and praise. And maybe wealth accumulation will stricken me with the Disease, My final thought of consolation: A “Manhood” dwarfing Johnny D’s. (This was the first poem I ever wrote. It was conceived while walking through Lakeview cemetery in Cleveland, Ohio hometo John D. Rockefeller and otherrenowned individuals.)

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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