Broken Star Poem by Kevin Patrick
Broken Star
Once upon a time I went fishing for the moon
But I learned you had to dig for it with a silver spoon
A patent platinum pickax and a chartered gold balloon
Always slipping one small step from reaching purple noon
I buried my hands in the muddied depths of night
Bleeding sweat and blisters for a pocket of some light
Climbing over peaks that were moving out of sight
Fighting the poverty of gravity for my astral appetite
So, I hitched a shooting star to reach that silver coat
Trying not turn burn myself or watch my hopes get smote
Crossing lonesome chasms over purgatories black moat
Hoping that the other end would hold my quixotic Antidote
Yet much to my dilemma I found the umbra of a shadow
The mountains of all my dreams was a hollowed dark plateau
So I spiraled into space towards the flickering afterglows
Just another broken star sloughing headlong, alone the bitter sowed
Kevin, I love symbolism of this poem. It reminds me of the struggle one has to pursue a dream Bravo! Encore! Encore!
Just another broken star sloughing headlong, alone the bitter sowed
this masterpiece of work is so deep and very well penned, it leads us to different interpretations and understandings: the moon in the first stanza then the night in the 2nd, the star in 3rd and 4th, dramatically painting the hope in the dark space ending up such a broken star, it is so beautiful creativity imagery, it deserves 10++ and onto my list... well done and thanks dear Kevin
congratulation, I haven't found these 3 amazing poetic imagery and similes any where else, it has made only by our professional poet Kevin from his creative laboratory mind: 1-poverty of gravity for my astral appetite 2-The mountains of all my dreams 3- hollowed dark plateau ..... note: needs more readings
Amazing, Kevin. Poverty and aspirations. You make me wonder, do the really wealthy, the top 1%, even need to dream? Do they even value the 'silver, ' or is it what they use to stoke our passions? This poem is invaluable commentary....to myfavourites....
A wonderfully descriptive piece that was a joy to read! Lodigiana x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 3:09:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Excellent poem, when the expectation are high in a dream that's nigh. Searching for a thirst to quench can leave us only more dry. Parched and we can not stand still in a moment that leaves us wanting or empty inside. We must head for the next distant sun rise. Because otherwise we will never be satisfied.