Aimless Poems

Love and lust are poles apart.

Lust is chaos, love is art.
...

She sits in the park. Her clothes are out of date.
Two children whine and bicker, tug her skirt.
A third draws aimless patterns in the dirt
Someone she loved once passed by – too late
...

Once, at night, in the manor wood
My Love and I long silent stood,
Amazed that any heavens could
Decree to part us, bitterly repining.
...

We may face onslaught and not survive
If no timely action is taken or efforts revived
Nature may not spare us for committed sin
We may have complete loss and situation no win
...

The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
...

The road will be taken, the right road
From the roads of roads of eternal twos
To cross a long way of even, uneven,
Zigzag, of fire, water; through rain,
...

Beyond the great valley an odd instinctive rising
Begins to possess the ground, the flatness gathers
to little humps and
barrows, low aimless ridges,
...

.

At the edge of the universe I live
Beyond the bend of Time.
...

At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time,
When you set your fancies free,
Will they pass to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned--
Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you loved so,
...

Let us go hence: the night is now at hand;
The day is overworn, the birds all flown;
And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown;
Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,
...

"Only a pound," said the auctioneer,
"Only a pound; and I'm standing here
Selling this animal, gain or loss --
Only a pound for the drover's horse?
...

Everyone bow with respect and knowledge,
See the impact and mutely acknowledge,
Clear gain and scoring the edge,
For universal benefit we take pledge,
...

Who killed whom?
How many died
our men; their men?
Crushed flesh and bones
...

FOR certain minutes at the least
That crafty demon and that loud beast
That plague me day and night
Ran out of my sight;
...

Silence again. The glorious symphony
Hath need of pause and interval of peace.
Some subtle signal bids all sweet sounds cease,
Save hum of insects' aimless industry.
...

Oh, yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final end of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;
...

At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time,
When you set your fancies free,
Will they pass to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned--
Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you loved so,
...

(A Fragment)>/i>


What, have I waked again? I never thought
...