Omens And Soothsayers Poem by Donna Quesinberry

an immigrant never
can hide his ignorance,
nor ability to garner
the pretext of the chameleon.

small revelries of conquest
are malfescent applications,
most often applied by the
tormented mind recompensing

evils of tortures past. and
exchanges no longer innocent
are decorated as benefactors,
when they are agendas.

where missions no longer
prevail. his untruths, mostly
inflictions of self pity, remain
driving martyrs raping faith
and loyalty. while as the voyeur

he rests on intimate theories
never requesting recompense,
and devouring love with self hate.
landing hard on shallow timbers,

alone, we stem glassware,
frozen in empty chests. medals
strewn like past remnants. photos
molding from misuse. and the

one light that shone he sheared
piercingly, through thrusts of
laughter, devoid of conscience
then claimed foul toward her heart.

dawn does not break, nor lite the
dark, it sets only to rites the
fables of men to women. omens
and soothsayers direct him now.

she is victorious in that resolve.
his heart, pierced, with her blood
coursing through his veins
he can no more forget-

than not breathe.


(Further compilation in the bucketman series, and lovelorn praise...)