Tag Archives: loss

But I am tired


But I am tired

I’m sorry;
I would read you lines of lovely prose,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would tell an amusing anecdote,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would brave brigands and burglars,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would sing you the sweetest lullabye,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would read you a thousand and one tales,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would tell you what the rain sings to me,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would dance until the dawn breaks,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.

I’m sorry;
I would write a million words to tell you how I feel,
But, I am tired, today. Perhaps tomorrow.
When I am less weary.

©¬†Bridget Noonan, 2012.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Two-fer today!


Sometimes I write things down in my little fat notebook and promptly forget them, because gawd-damn they are depressing. I thought I’d share two of them today!

Untitled #1
Or, whoa did I watch Metropolis (1927 film) that day?

The grime smothers the city
From thousands of pounding feet
And spinning wheels daily
The lives of the workers are bleak
Forever in motion, without rest
No hope of something greater.
The cold bites their fingers
Numb to everything but the
Endless expanse of grey sky, black dirt.
Is there anything more than this,
The vast suffering of faceless drones?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.

Untitled #2
Or, apparently I was not happy with humanity

just another pointless lament
listless animalistic stereotype
bored with endless ennui
cloudy of mind, purposeless
a wandering soul searching for
the next thing to live for
and the next and the next
a quest for the newest stimulation
ultimately in vain, because
it too shall becomes tiresome
and the cycle shall repeat and repeat
the quest the resolution and again
why the unsatisfactory quest
just to be doomed to seek, find and lose?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Haiku time!


I wish I knew how
to coax out a good haiku
but they won’t bloom here.

Yes, it’s that time again- time for a series of haiku poems. You know you love it.

seasons

1.
if I could stop now
our summer would never end
but time continues

2.
autumn brings colour
heralds the death of the year
and the end of us

3.
snow falls softly now
returns me to a blank slate
winter at its best

4.
fresh green shoots spring forth
from their mother’s warm embrace
I begin again.

© Bridget Noonan, 2012.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

A Man of Substance


Not properly a sonnet, because I didn’t realize I was writing ten syllable lines until halfway through, but it’s still a quatorzain. It’s just a little something I wrote yesterday while I was thinking about a friend.

A Man of Substance

A man of substance had been led astray,
All he once loved had been taken away.
He stood, a broken sword, rooted in earth
In dying light of sun, doubting his worth.
No woman to hold, no children to scold,
As the setting sun turned brown hair to gold.
The man of substance and his faithful dog
Sat down on the hilltop, drowning in fog
With nowhere to turn, no hope of recourse
He wept to the heavens, bitter with loss.
With nothing to gain, and nothing to fear
His voice echoed richly but met no ear.
This man of substance had given his all
But courage alone can’t help with his fall.

© Bridget Noonan, 2011.

4 Comments

Filed under Poetry