feast & famine (II)

This is a rewrite of an older entry, but this here is my first attempt at legit poetry. Literally, mostly metered. If you make it to the end, obviously I need a real ending. But I think up to that point is a decent spur-of-inspiration.

Feast & famine

Life’s all right with adventure and movement;
Horizons span far and broad,
Unfettered by haze and fog
And noise and clutter.
And everything falls into place.

Try I might align myself, as prudent,
To as many harrowing odds;
Against better ways, and chance,
And poise, and balance;
With nothing to stand before me.

But alas should the sails fall flat, halfway through;
Or perhaps away all your crew
Have up and left you;
Straws drawn at dawn embarked, by dusk alone,
To a terrible thirst at sea.

And yet the cellars are dry, and so am I, oh why?
To weather the storm inside,
Abiding time in stride;
To try the tide to take its course – no guide –
And drift all along the way.

Without that pilot light that from all sight eludes me,
Curious to feel it gone but never burning.
So what did I do to deserve the flame, and what did I do to lose it?
Didn’t I care to waste not, want not?
And never abuse it?

I lie here a while in stow to prove it,
Concluding hereto it’s a soothing,
Illusion of forward moving;
For when I wash up at the shore,
Why the fuck was I on a boat?

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1 comment
  1. What do you mean you need a “real” ending? First of all, you’d be hard pressed to find any quality poems with “real” endings. It’s a poem, not an essay.

    I really liked the whole poem, but I absolutely loved the way you ended it, I literally laughed out loud! In a good way. It’s almost like a lighthearted parody of the earnest garishness with which poets deal with their metaphors. It’s a serious poem with a silly ending, nothing wrong with that.

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