Just sitting at my computer desk, tired and exhausted, thinking of the time that I had to be at my bravest. This is what I wrote that night of 28th October 2005.


Climactics.

A day must end The yawns of tomorrow,
Lavender of exertive ideas,
In this dream: chimera runs wild.

I stay awake Straining,
Seldom speaks the mute feelings,
Resting my elbow: Infirm thoughts vitrified.

Shivered cold with a boredness,
Architected; Democratic smiles,
Here comes reality: A sound of utensil.

Sovereign years Drained out of hope,
Flashbacks of temporary issues,
Prayers in blue: A sort of 'half-belief'.

As the dusk broadens; Cicada's shriek,
Desperate to walk the dark alleys,
Rough sleep: A challenge.

A lust, a want, a need for a gift,
Like the burning of a trouble; A bruise,
This blink: Every second emerged to a blessing.

Blank axis No reason for the longer,
Give up and surrender to ululated sights,
I need sleep, and my cushion claimed comfort.




Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1017 times
Written on 2005-10-29 at 12:25

Tags Life  Cold  Dark 

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Zoya Zaidi
Even when exausted you can cojure up such brilliant poetry! Bravo! (((Hugs))) Sleep well!!
2005-10-29


penfold18
Tired and exhuasted but certainly not your imagination as usual john.
2005-10-29