Web of Loneliness Poems

Poems of the Lonely

Tag Archives: wasted


I’m taking a Sunday walk on an empty road

the celebrated sun pushes from behind

my shadow stretches a mile long before me

I am not lost in thought I just walk

carelessly kicking pebbles and stones along the way

As if they were the scattered letters of individual words

of broken sentences from the answers I

have not heeded and now in my greatest need

They are just so much dust and gravel to scuff my shoes

stones to skip across the lake and boulders to build a cairn

for some-one who may or may not one-day wonder

for at least a solitary moment

about the one who has taken the time and trouble

to use these wasted answers and all these

discarded dreams to build a monument of rubble

that has no meaning that doesn’t do anything.

But when my own shadow is as my betrothed

my shade likened to a lover, there it is

my reflection has become my sole companion

everywhere I go

I have grown to detest my own wearisome caress

How I despise what my flesh must accept as pleasure

For one alone who has fallen falls and falls so foul so low

with no others arms to reach out and catch them

so lost so craven where there is no care to soften

When the tongue has become torn in ragged bloody shreds

From pleading imploring beseaching using every possible word

Or combination therein in every language ever spoken by man

Asking whatever power there is that may govern

To bring whom I have proven so worthy of over and over

Yet alone here



There is not gold enough from ten thousand rainbows

Nor any answers from the mysterys of the secrets of the ages

that could possibly have any value


Nor could mean a god damned thing to me!


© m e m/ 2001/ QuickSand Ballet