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(I Am) But A Poet, A Man . . .

It��s true, I lack true eloquence and depth in my writings, daily. Eloquence and depth,
That which I've aspired to over these many years. To out-rightly own and thus, to fully embrace
The greater universe of this, my 'feather and parchment' world.

Alone in a shadow wealth of soft, emotional array, moments feed into hours - as I reflect.
Always the Poet. Always this reflection of time in memoriam. Always a bird in flight in my own skin.

Where are the Angels meant to comfort me in among this cold, abject space in time?
Where are the truer keepers of inner wealth and time?

Here, in this middle earth, I do conspire to affix softer pedals of gentleness to everything caught up in this,
My only real parade. This shelter place of my being.

Mother of The Earth, touch and bless me. Reach me here inside. Own my moments of old, leftover grace.
Refresh your Poet, your keep. Bring to me your wealth. Angels of Mercy, I am here.

Heal me. Speak to me.

Now, alone in this self made housed and real shelter depth, I cannot shape that which does not rightfully belong to me.
Free? O' Aye, I am that. Free to self absorb. Free to write. After-all, I Do shape words.

I am but a Poet, A Man.


Thom Douglas Carlisle ( Irish Tommy Moran ) - Ireland, ( During The Month of My Birth, on that day, Nov.30th, 2013. )




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Brilliant. Truly brilliant. A piece that I read as a sharing with us that almost sacred intimacy that exists between Poem & Its' Crafter. The acknowledgement that when all is penned and read to a modicum of satisfaction, it is the work itself that decides whether we shall move on. And after it lets us go we return to being...



I share a secret with you Tommyboy101, November is also the month of my Earth Day.

Respectfully yours Always

Dreadaye

PS: Yes, I feel it too these past few months, the spurs are out and the whip crackles over head.

Dread,


Well spoken. I enjoyed reading every point you've made here.

Thank ye my friend,

tommo / Ireland

I always enjoy reading your poems so I can just sit and think about some things. It's good to take time for self reflection and I try to do it often. Your words make it seem magical and the recording was so nice!

Thank you!

Tul,

I always appreciate your words. They lift me up. Thank ye, Tul.

tommo / Ireland

Where indeed, is the poet? Is the man? Where does one end and the other begin? How did our creator contrive the melding and the separation of our being, just as we so do with our own inner reflections put into trifle words?

Thank you tommy.

Pansytilly,

I agree with your comments here. thank ye for sharing.


tommy boy / Ireland