A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 20,000 daily subscribers and over 8,000 archived posts.
Old, that is, damn near seventy two,
but possessed.
You must be able to love
the inconvenience of the hot coal in my heart
that goes white hot with breath.
You may
avoid my scraggly neck by looking in my eyes.
Everything is there. A kind of madness, yes,
but without it so much dullness
as in the slowly fading lights out there
in Normal Land, their candle’s flicker
snuffed by a sneeze.
Must be able to abide my early wakings
when I get up to feed the demons.
They will not bite:
Since I’ve ceased to deny them
they’ve grown quite tame.
I know them by name.
They’ll get along with yours just fine.
To go through one day with me requires
you know me as a child who cannot stop
pointing out that dog, that bird, that horse,
that cloud that looks like Polonius pontificating.
Can be fun.
Some have stayed, some have run.
—
copyright 2015 Doug Anderson
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
I love this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Some have stayed, some have run.” (!)
LikeLike
You have indeed tamed your demons – to be able to plead your case for acceptance with such innocence. Does my heart good!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish there was less philosophical cynisism and more innocent joy in this poem
LikeLike
I love pontificating when it’s not to my demise…check out my Poetry Of Psychology on my web page m.r.elliott@mrelliott.com
LikeLike
Doug, that is well written. Should be able to connect with someone sensitive with it. At least I hope so.
Warmly, Carolyn
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn charming seventy two
Hello tame demons and little boy
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn charming seventy two,
Hello tame demons and little boy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Here I am. And looking.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent poem, Doug!
LikeLiked by 1 person
cliche, yes, but
Be still my heart.
LikeLike
Good poem, Doug. You are an excellent writer.
LikeLiked by 1 person