PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

 The ink of our stories continues flowing even as we approach life’s most difficult crossroads. Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

 

Ink Unspooled at the Threshold

“Non omnis moriar.”

– Horace

 

Opening: Fractured Self

 

Who’s left, when the mirror spits back static-

A stutter of faces, a flicker, a fizz-

I am the echo in the stairwell,

A moth in the socket,

Spinning, spinning,

My mind a carousel of keys,

Jangling, clanging,

No lock to fit.

 

 

 

World’s Indifference

 

Listen-

The world grinds on,

A cold machine,

Its gears gnash,

Its eyes glass-green.

I’ve shouted into inboxes,

Tapping, tapping,

My pleas ricochet,

A hail on tin,

No answer in the static,

Only the hush of “no,”

And the hush is a hammer.

 

 

 

Farewell to Students

 

To you, my bright ones-

You, with your notebooks and nervous laughter,

You, who grew in the dark,

I leave the marrow of my meaning:

Let knowledge outpace the wolves.

Let your questions crack the shell

Of every easy answer.

Remember:

The world is not just,

But you can be.

Let your hope be a howl,

Let your laughter be a shield.

 

 

 

Farewell to Animals

Soft noses, feathered hush,

Paws in the hallway,

Heartbeat hush-

I’ve left the list, the food, the names,

The number for the vet,

A blanket folded,

A window cracked for sun.

Forgive me,

Forgive me-

Oh please - forgive me-

I have run out of doors.

 

 

 

Desperation and Decision

 

I have begged, I have borrowed,

I have bartered my sleep,

I have mapped every alley,

I have counted the sheep-

But the night keeps on gnashing,

And the dawn never breaks.

I am spent, I am scattered,

I am the last note the violin makes

Before the string snaps.

 

 

 

The Choice

 

So-

Snap.

The clock ticks,

The ink drips,

A hush falls,

A hush,

A hush.

 

Hope for Survivors

 

But I dream-

You, curled in a shaft of light,

You, laughing, learning,

You, safe in the hush of a home.

Let my leaving be a door,

Not a wall.

Let my words be a bridge,

Not a stone.

In the hush,

May you hear my hope.

 

 

 

Legacy

 

Ink unspooled,

Voice unspun.

I am the whisper in the rafters,

The pawprint in the dust,

The lesson half-remembered,

The love that lingers,

Even when the door shuts.

 

 

 

Closing: Release

 

So let these lines be lanterns-

Flicker, flutter,

Guide you through the gutter-murk,

Let them stutter,

Let them sing-

I am gone,

But in the hush,

A bell rings.

 

 

The remnants of a life: scattered papers and the last letter written in a dim, cold room where 

hope has faded. The final echo in an empty space. Image by Midjourney v6.

3. Tender Echoes in Ink - revised

 

“Non omnis moriar.”

– Horace

 

 

I am-

but who deciphers

the static in my marrow,

the flicker of a filament

spitting sparks

in the socket of my skull?

I am the vessel,

cracked and brimming,

where anguish sloshes,

tide against glass.

 

 

This world-

a crooked scale,

its fulcrum rusted,

its verdicts cold as coins

dropped in a well.

I tumble through

the hush of halls,

my pleas ricocheting

off marble, off memory,

off the backs of those

who never turn.

 

 

All I cherished-

ghosts in the fog,

fur and feather,

warmth and weight.

I write goodbyes

with knuckles white,

each syllable a shackle,

each phrase a pebble

dropped in the well of my chest.

 

 

For those I taught-

let your questions

crack the shell

of every easy answer.

Let hope be a howl,

let your laughter

shield you from the wolves.

 

 

For those I fed-

I’ve left the list,

the blanket,

the sunlit window.

Forgive me-

I have run out of doors.

 

 

I have begged,

bartered sleep,

mapped alleys,

counted sheep.

But the night keeps gnashing,

the dawn never breaks.

I am the last note

the violin makes

before the string snaps-

snap-

a hush,

a hush.

 

 

But I dream-

you, curled in a shaft of light,

you, safe in the hush of a home.

Let my leaving be a door,

not a wall.

Let my words be a bridge,

not a stone.

In the hush,

may you hear my hope.

 

 

 

In the shadows of adversity, a plea emerges,

A whisper carried on the winds of change.

I, David Wakeham, a neurodivergent soul,

Humbly seek solace, a home to call my own.

 

 

Through realms of Australia, South Africa, and beyond,

I've tirelessly served, a beacon for the unheard.

In shelters and pounds, a voice for the voiceless,

Mending broken spirits, a balm for the wounded.

 

 

Yet now, I find myself adrift, eviction looming,

The weight of complex ailments, a tempest brewing.

cPTSD, ASD, chronic pain, and more,

A labyrinth of challenges, a path untamed.

 

 

But in this darkness, a light still flickers,

The unconditional love of my faithful companions.

Boudica, my Tonkinese queen, a regal presence,

Her purrs a symphony, a balm for my essence.

 

 

Badger, a tuxedo cat, his fur a flowing river,

A constant companion, his love a gentle quiver.

Rīx, my loyal black cat, a shadow in the night,

His presence a comfort, a guardian of light.

 

 

And Missy, the brave pup, who fought tetanus's blight,

Her courage a reminder, to never give up the fight.

Through shared pain and fear, our hearts intertwined,

In each other's solace, true strength we find.

 

 

In their gentle gaze, my truest friends reside, 

A family's embrace, with love as my guide.  

They bring me light when shadows creep near, 

A precious connection, reminding me to hold dear.

 

 

I seek not just shelter, but a haven of healing,

A sanctuary where shattered pieces can mend.

For in stability lies the strength to rebuild,

To tutor diverse minds, to complete a Master's journey.

 

 

Mr. Kitty, an old soul with wisdom deep and profound, 

Inspiring my poetry, published a lasting testament to our bond

And Millie, with a zest for life that knew no bounds, 

Her legacy a loving reminder that joy truly can be found.

 

 

In their eyes, I find the courage to persevere,

To battle the demons that haunt my waking dreams.

For they are not merely pets, but emotional anchors,

A lifeline tethered to hope, a bond that never severs.

 

 

So I come to you, dear stranger, with an open heart,

A plea for empathy, a call to action.

Your generosity could be the turning point,

A beacon of light amidst the encroaching void.

 

 

Every dollar a step closer to stability,

A chance to continue the noble pursuit of uplifting others.

For in helping those in need, we find our own salvation,

A symphony of survival, a protest against systematic stagnation.

 

 

The scent of eucalyptus and petrichor linger,

As the sun dips below the horizon, a fiery finger.

The wind whispers through the gum trees, a hushed lullaby,

Rustling leaves like a thousand gentle sighs.

 

 

The soft fur of my companions brushes against my skin,

A tactile reminder of the love that lies within.

Their purrs and barks, a symphony of hope,

A melody that helps me cope.

 

 

In this tapestry of life, we are all intertwined,

Our stories woven together, a bond divine.

So please, lend your support, share this tale,

For in unity, we can weather any gale.

 

 

Together, we can secure a safe haven,

For a person and their companions, a bond unshaven.

In the darkest of nights, a single spark can ignite,

A flame of hope, a path towards the light.

 

 

 

Hope and self

 

Hope is all around,
however for connecting dots
a million things to do.
Thus, restless efforts
will never let down
to crush the setbacks.

 

A  joyful break
might empower to restore self.
Yet, it is not too old, nor too weak
to focus on self.

 

My own gravity rests in self,
effort less self, craving for rest,
workaholic self, ambitious for stake,
out of the box self,
redefines to keep the hope!

 

 Echoes of Deception, Threads of Hope

 

 

In shadows of fear, a whisper takes hold,

A sinister seed, a conspiracy untold.

Whispers of a virus, man-made and vile,

Profit the motive, trust exiled.

 

 

Amidst echoes of doubt and deceit's dark dance,

A personal battle, a silent stance.

Isolation's sting, stigma's crushing weight,

The heaviness of uncertainty's relentless gait.

 

 

Michel Simonin's struggle, a fight to be heard,

Against AIDS' cruel stigma, his voice undeterred.

In letters and television, his story unfurled,

Defying the silence, refusing to be deterred.

 

 

Through tears of resilience, a choice bravely made,

To shatter the silence, to not be swayed.

Unveiling the humanity behind the disease,

Reclaiming identity, refusing to appease.

 

 

Yet in depths of sorrow's unending night,

Science illuminates, a beacon of light.

WGS and NGS unravel the viral code,

Evolution's truth, HIV's primal abode.

 

 

In sequencing's intricate art, a tale unfolds,

Of chimpanzee origins, zoonotic thresholds. Palindromes dance in the RNA's sway,

Nature's complex beauty, now on display.

 

 

Yet echoes of deception still linger and spread,

Shattering lives, filling hearts with dread.

The vulnerable bear the heaviest toll,

In fabrication's web, their innocence stole.

 

 

In this intimate war, we must take a stand,

Embracing our scars, extending a hand.

Empathy our salve, compassion our guide,

In unity and truth, our spirits reside.

 

 

From pain's crucible, we'll rise transformed,

Scars into strength, wisdom reborn.

In the symphony of survival, harmony will reign,

As we honour the journey, through sun and rain.

 

 

With science as our compass, truth as our light,

We'll navigate the landscapes of the heart's might.

Reclaiming our stories, our voices bold,

In courage and resilience, our lives we'll mould.

 

 

In the tapestry of existence, we'll find our place,

Stitching together healing, with tender grace.

Each breath a rebellion, each moment a choice,

To survive and thrive, with authentic voice.

 

 

In the echoes of resilience, hope whispers anew,

Threads of connection, strength to see us through. 

Through shadows and light, we'll weave our way,

Embracing our truth, come what may.

 

 

In the alchemy of survival, transformation blooms, 

Vulnerability becomes armour, silence finds its tune.

From shattered fragments, a mosaic we'll raise,

A testament to the unbreakable human spirit's blaze.

 Echoes of Deception, Threads of Hope

 

 

In shadows of fear, a whisper takes hold,

A sinister seed, a conspiracy untold.

Whispers of a virus, man-made and vile,

Profit the motive, trust exiled.

 

 

Amidst echoes of doubt and deceit's dark dance,

A personal battle, a silent stance.

Isolation's sting, stigma's crushing weight,

The heaviness of uncertainty's relentless gait.

 

 

Michel Simonin's struggle, a fight to be heard,

Against AIDS' cruel stigma, his voice undeterred.

In letters and television, his story unfurled,

Defying the silence, refusing to be deterred.

 

 

Through tears of resilience, a choice bravely made,

To shatter the silence, to not be swayed.

Unveiling the humanity behind the disease,

Reclaiming identity, refusing to appease.

 

 

Yet in depths of sorrow's unending night,

Science illuminates, a beacon of light.

WGS and NGS unravel the viral code,

Evolution's truth, HIV's primal abode.

 

 

In sequencing's intricate art, a tale unfolds,

Of chimpanzee origins, zoonotic thresholds.
Palindromes dance in the RNA's sway,

Nature's complex beauty, now on display.

 

 

Yet echoes of deception still linger and spread,

Shattering lives, filling hearts with dread.

The vulnerable bear the heaviest toll,

In fabrication's web, their innocence stole.

 

 

In this intimate war, we must take a stand,

Embracing our scars, extending a hand.

Empathy our salve, compassion our guide,

In unity and truth, our spirits reside.

 

 

From pain's crucible, we'll rise transformed,

Scars into strength, wisdom reborn.

In the symphony of survival, harmony will reign,

As we honour the journey, through sun and rain.

 

 

With science as our compass, truth as our light,

We'll navigate the landscapes of the heart's might.

Reclaiming our stories, our voices bold,

In courage and resilience, our lives we'll mould.

 

 

In the tapestry of existence, we'll find our place,

Stitching together healing, with tender grace.

Each breath a rebellion, each moment a choice,

To survive and thrive, with authentic voice.

 

 

In the echoes of resilience, hope whispers anew,

Threads of connection, strength to see us through. 

Through shadows and light, we'll weave our way,

Embracing our truth, come what may.

 

 

In the alchemy of survival, transformation blooms, 

Vulnerability becomes armour, silence finds its tune.

From shattered fragments, a mosaic we'll raise,

A testament to the unbreakable human spirit's blaze.

Discordant Note

Scratching, floating

Hanging in the air

 

 

Pressure ebbs and flows 

Headpiece filled with straw

 

 

A twisted melody lingers

Confusion and rage entwined 

Resentment's bitter sting

Wrestles with sorrow's whine

 

 

Innocence stolen, trust shattered

By hands meant to protect

 

 

The child within still bleeds

Silently searching, begging for respect 

 

 

Justice denied, our secrets buried

Master manipulator 

A monster cloaked in lies

 

 

Crimes still hidden 

Despite Death's hand

Too late for tortured cries

 

 

Feet of clay now returned to dust

From whence they darkly came

Leaving behind a tangled mess

Of trauma, grief and shame 

 

 

The urge to desecrate, destroy

Wage war upon their grave

Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief 

Yes, he is no more

But I am not yet saved

 

 

This victory feels hollow 

An unearned, empty gift

When wounds still pulse and throb

No closure, the burdens unshift 

 

 

 

I imagine looking for the tombstone,

Fists and soul clenched tight,

Anger, disgust, and rage.

 

 

Shadows cast doubt over my morals,

Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.

Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,

A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.

 

 

No tears of mourning shed

No idea the monster was laid to rest

Three years later, a happy accident

Release a demon locked deep in my chest

 

 

How to reconcile the little child

Who needed love and care

With the person now made to carry

This discordant note hanging in the air

 

 

In the depths of this discordance 

Frustration and confusion still rise

Dare I confront the shadows

Curse their peaceful demise?

 

 

Every anguished scream swallowed 

Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence

Transmuting years of buried aches

Why not release in rightful fierce violence?

 

 

Through serpentine paths of healing

Piece by shattered piece remade,

Scars shimmering with untold stories 

Of battles braved and traumas mourned

 

 

In owning all that was endured

By innocent hands and shattered trust

Languidly learning to cradle, soothe

My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust

 

 

Each breath is an act of bravery

Every step is defiant, resolute 

Reclaiming fractured narratives

No longer voiceless or mute

Through my poetry, I find release

May its rhythm grant me peace.

 

 

This journey from victim to victor

Is paved with shards of broken self

Reassembled by courageous hands

Into mosaics of pain and health 

 

 

A symphony of survival

Echoes in the spaces in between

I cannot rewrite my cruel history 

I yearn like others to live and dream

 

 

Beyond the reach of phantom hands

That sought to break and steal and mar

I rise in revolutionary softness

Tempered by battles, reminded by scars

 

 

The discordant note, a stubborn seed, 

Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed, 

Yet woven slow, within the larger frame, 

An ostinato may conquer its shame, 

Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea, 

Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history. 

 

 

Πρῶτον μὴ βλάπτειν, a principle misunderstood,

 

Not black and white, but shades of good.

 

Where healing's art meets science's light,

 

And ethical minds must choose what's right.

 

 

 

The caduceus gleams, a symbol misconstrued,

 

Where commerce and care are often viewed.

 

But Asclepius' staff, with single snake entwined,

 

Represents true healing, carefully refined.

 

 

 

In modern halls where choices weigh,

 

Doctors and patients find their way.

 

Through risks and benefits, they navigate,

 

Shared understanding they cultivate.

 

 

 

Some peddle cures with hollow claims,

 

Exploiting fears for selfish aims.

 

But true healers, with knowledge sound,

 

On evidence their practice ground.

 

 

 

"Primum nil nocere," a guide, not chain,

 

Encouraging thought in health's domain.

 

Balance sought 'twixt act and pause,

 

For healing's not without its flaws.

 

 

 

In research labs and by bedsides too,

 

Ethical minds seek what is true.

 

Through trials tested, their wisdom grows,

 

A beacon bright as knowledge flows.

 

 

 

ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν, the call remains,

 

For those who heal, not those who feign.

 

In partnership with those they treat,

 

They strive to make care more complete.

 

In the valley where the rivers ran,

Fields of green turned to barren land.

Hurricane Helene swept through like a thief.

Took everything, left nothing but grief.

Generations built these walls.

Now they crumble, now they fall.

We look to the skies, but the rain won't cease.

Where's the help? Where's the peace?

 

Echoes of laughter in the flooded streets.

Memories linger where the heart still beats.

From the mountains to the plains.

We're bound by the losses, bound by the pain.

The rain keeps pouring, the wind still howls.

But through the darkness, hear the calls.

Neighbors helping neighbors, hand in hand.

We’ll rise up, like only the Appalachia can.  

 

The land may be battered, but our spirits won’t break.

With every lost tree, there’s a new road to make.

Let’s gather the pieces, let’s light up the night.

We’ll show the world how we fight for what’s right.

 

We the people, we will rise,

From the debris, from the cries,

Together we'll mend what’s torn apart,

With our hands and with our hearts.

The government’s silence, a bitter truth,

Shaming its people, completely aloof!

A generational loss, but we’ll stand tall.

We'll come together, we’ll rebuild it all.

 

 Here’s to the future, with hope in our eyes.

Together we’ll thrive, we’ll reach for the skies.

Through the pain and the sorrow, we’ll find a way.

We the people, we'll rebuild each day.