Lark (Blue Side of Pale Series)
A blue side of pale winter sky
A false promise of warmth
Mocking lie leaves frostbite
We learn to live without feeling
Breath before death leaves us warmer
Beyond all comprehension of touch
A blue side of grey spring and sleet
A note passed across the order
It reads as up is down and I am worthy
I compound why nots ‘till I forgot
We would never be, yet I felt warmer
Lark or not, I envisioned her touch
A blue side of bluest midsummer dream
Her declaration under scalding eyes
A fragile fondness that could never be
I lash-out, shredding her baby-bird song
I wound her before she could burn me
Sense of touch long beyond the pale
A blue side of amber autumn gale
Earnest harvest of unmindful fullness
Ripened want withered on bough
Unseen by us, insulated from life
Preparing for death has iced our light
Beyond all comprehension of touch
***
Written for dVerse Poetic: Theories of Everything and Anything, hosted by merrildsmith. Other poets contributed here.
Also written for NaPoWriMo’s day 29 prompt: write “a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully.”
In sixth grade, I was pranked by a girl who pretended to have a crush on me. Once the prank was revealed, I was the laughing stock of my class. Prior to that, I’ve always had poor self-esteem.
That prank confirmed every awful thing I thought of myself and informed my actions in the future whenever I found myself connecting with someone who claimed to be into me. I just wanted to explore those feelings again as an old man.
Anyway, I’m pleased to be the last person to complete #NaPoWriMo2019 #GloPoWriMo2019. Phew! Sorry I’ve been away for a bit. Life has been quite challenging these days.
I have a few more entries this month, but soon I’ll be on another extended break. I’m due for a sabbatical from writing as I spend more time reading all the wonderful poetry of my fellow online poets.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 
Why does being human have to be so complicated. And why are humans often so cruel from an early age? I like the song. Wistfully wishing things could be as simple as just saying ok. Writers, and particularly poets, have the double curse of overanalyzing.
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Many human relationships today seem they are a bit like fencing with a hot rapier Barry, thrusts and parries to hold our ground, without being burned, but to stay in the interplay for as long as it’s enjoyable.
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This felt like something hard in the gut… and can remember being made a laughingstock so many times every time I was led to believe that I was not at the lower part of the pecking order… alas humans are cruel. Love the way you use season here.
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It’s been a crazy few days for me, too, so I apologize for just getting to this.
I like how the blue side of various things begins each stanza, but so sorry for this experience that has stayed with you for so many years. People, including children, can be very cruel.
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