Sunday, May 12, 2019

Decay

Slow at first, hardly seen,
the creep and chew of
decay; inexorable break
down, entropic destiny,

from which there is no
escape, whether soul,
self, frail body, or some
abandoned timber, lying

forlorn at the uncaring
feet of weather, where
time toys with edges,
plays with substance,

demands change and
disarray, as if order
were some offence,
and rotting life's true

path, where what was
is slowly brought down,
transformed into other,
yet strangely familiar,

with its crusted kiss,
pouting patiently until
there is no choice but
to surrender. 

8 comments:

  1. This is one of those poems that snags in your head. I'm going to be thinking about it all day now.

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  2. Nice lines: "transformed into other,
    yet strangely familiar,"

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  3. "where time toys with edges," this is incredibly powerful!❤️

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  4. Time creeps in the claim everything...

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  5. as if order
    were some offence,
    and rotting life's true

    path,


    i have to say it probably does...bkm

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  6. I sink it all in... and we decay all in time. Very thought provoking poem.

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  7. You paint senescence as the meditative inevitability it is, but artfully... not shying away from it as we're inclined to do most times. I enjoyed reading this.

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  8. This is the truth... we have to live with that decay... to resist is futile.

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