I sit alone and ponder,
the cards life has dealt.
The dreams that were dismissed,
for the sake of quelling nightmares.
A writer I am says I.
Who recognises the fact?
With cigarette between my fingers,
a hand of solitaire in front of me.
The chances of winning,
decrease with time.
Reluctance is a virtue,
which I no longer posses.
My cigarette is almost finished;
the hand in front of me has fled.
My depression is getting stronger.
What will awake my sleeping mind?
The sun outside might shine,
but the inner light is almost burnt out.
1 June 1981
Hi, David: I read this one a few times, to get the full thrust. You did a good job describing your feelings of despair. I especially like, 'a hand of solitaire in front of me. The chances of winning, decrease with time.' Did you mean to say 'reluctance' rather than 'patience'? I know how you feel about that inner light. But it never burns out until the last poem is sung, so keep on keeping on. I know whereof I speak, believe me. For a real eye opener, read my poem, 'Nurse Ratchett and Her Bag of Nuts, and let me know what you think. best, diva sit alone and ponder, the cards life has dealt. The dreams that were dismissed, for the sake of quelling nightmares. A writer I am says I. Who recognises the fact? With cigarette between my fingers, a hand of solitaire in front of me. The chances of winning, decrease with time. Reluctance is a virtue, which I no longer posses. My cigarette is almost finished; the hand in front of me has fled. My depression is getting stronger. What will awake my sleeping mind? The sun outside might shine, but the inner light is almost burnt out.
Quite a vivid expression of dismay... very good write, David. Brian
Did the writer of this find his wings again? I hope so, for he's a genuinely talented guy. (How much choice do we really have in this life - especially when we're youngish? Genes, culture, nurture, the limitations of history unfolding, all tend to steer us down a very narrow road, and often the end result is a sense of personal failure. But many of us were working against the odds. Later, we start to find a little more freedom to choose/free will, and scope for achieving some kind of happiness/satisfaction - sorry to ramble - you had me thinking out loud there!) . The burn out state is very persuasively portrayed here. So well, that you may have been dealing with the real thing. Great writing regardless. jim
The cards are delt, but what can you do.. but play the hand the life has shown you... David fine write...10
Brunt out is a beautiful poem that insist me and I added 10 to it.
I too am glad this is from the past.......but obviously it has made you a much stronger person for it.....and now you help others through their difficult times now...don't you Dr. Dave: O) .......OH....I think i may have stumbled onto another hat......Dr. Dave....he doesn't make house calls....but he's always there when you need him to cheer you up....with his wonderful words: O)
a great piece david. life sometimes gives us what we want, then other times it just pushes us away from doing or going where we want to go. a wonderful poem.
Oh David, I'am so glad this poem was in the past, of course it was for now what we see is a 'NEW' bright shining light. Through your words and wisdom, through a bright radiant light lives a poet of deep emotion and infinite sight. Keep these wondrous treasures coming David, we are blessed to have you on this site.-----Melvina---
I had to read this poem based on your title.You created a Great title that pulled this whole piece together nicely.I feel your pain and the disallusion we all suffer from time to time...hopefully not too often-but it happens. Great imagery.I could smell the smoke of the cigarette between your fingers and I could sence that the urgency of the dreams you once had were dismissed. A Horrible place to be...glad it was written years ago. Thanx for sharing from your heart. =Shelley=
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes even the strongest sunshine cannot lighten the spirits, and we feel all done in. I hope that after all these years your light is again burning brightly for you. This is a very expressive poem and although sad and hopeless in content, it was a great read. Love, Fran xx