Put Me Out Of My Misery
Put Me Out Of My Misery
Put Me Out Of My Misery
You think-------
I’m secure tethered to reality’s hitching post.
More like-----
a rabid stallion running before a raging prairie fire
escaping combustible desires unfulfilled
waiting for the spontaneous spark to ignite the impending disaster.
I seethe------
in bitter doubt and trepidation,
the rope insecure that holds me to the hitching post of life
bucking wildly on the inside for my release.
Wide open ------
fields of thought remind me of too much space wasted
inside complex theories of what was relative to me
and what should have been let out to pasture a long
time ago to breed new live stock thoughts instead
caged to eat bitter roots feed in disdain by scornful providers
of melancholy memories chewed much too often.
They shoot blind horses -----
why am I left un-mercilessly in the Dark
wishing the bullet would hit the bone of reason
as I pray for my tragic season to end.
Bury me----
in the winters gloom to reflect the light
and warmth I lost becoming frigid in life
foreshadowing my death state conclusion.
You think ------
I’m secure tethered to reality’s hitching post.
More like--
a rabid stallion running before a raging prairie fire.
Put
----me
--------out
-------------of
-----------------my
----------------------m
--------------------i
-----------------s
--------------e
-----------r
-------------y.
2-10-06
You think-------
I’m secure tethered to reality’s hitching post.
More like-----
a rabid stallion running before a raging prairie fire
escaping combustible desires unfulfilled
waiting for the spontaneous spark to ignite the impending disaster.
I seethe------
in bitter doubt and trepidation,
the rope insecure that holds me to the hitching post of life
bucking wildly on the inside for my release.
Wide open ------
fields of thought remind me of too much space wasted
inside complex theories of what was relative to me
and what should have been let out to pasture a long
time ago to breed new live stock thoughts instead
caged to eat bitter roots feed in disdain by scornful providers
of melancholy memories chewed much too often.
They shoot blind horses -----
why am I left un-mercilessly in the Dark
wishing the bullet would hit the bone of reason
as I pray for my tragic season to end.
Bury me----
in the winters gloom to reflect the light
and warmth I lost becoming frigid in life
foreshadowing my death state conclusion.
You think ------
I’m secure tethered to reality’s hitching post.
More like--
a rabid stallion running before a raging prairie fire.
Put
----me
--------out
-------------of
-----------------my
----------------------m
--------------------i
-----------------s
--------------e
-----------r
-------------y.
2-10-06
[img]http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a97/iblieve/9e35dd63.gif[/img]
iblieve
DARC Poet's Society.
iblieve
DARC Poet's Society.
Re: Put Me Out Of My Misery
I like the fact/lament without it ever saying if this is a blind horse. Kinda leaves me wondering--is this poem laying claim to a right or lamenting the fact that there's no right to claim. Good stuff.iblieve wrote: They shoot blind horses -----
why am I left un-mercilessly in the Dark
wishing the bullet would hit the bone of reason
as I pray for my tragic season to end.
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
- ButtercupNutSwirlz
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- stilltrucking
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of melancholy memories chewed much too often.
George Trakl comes to mind, his Melancholy Evening,
j posted it here somewhere.
Good imagery Ibelieve, I am

I have my own dead poets society, a lot of suicides among them, seems to be an occupational hazard for poets, especially women poets. I have learned a lot from the work they did during their lifetimes but I have learned nothing from their deaths.
if it hurts, it's alive

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