Abandoned by scorn, forgotten by hate?
My nerves unworn and my knees unshaken,
Even as this cool dawn warms and grows late.
What have I done to cause you an offense,
O ghost of offenses here and today?
This morning finds me frozen in content
The vapors of my heart and wit seeped away.
The election continues, that is true,
And yet I see no sin in that right now
The idle outraged usually pull through-
There's still Lou Dobbs, though I don't see how.
With no complaint, folly nor cause to scold,
I suppose I must have taken a cold.
CRYPT, n. An untroubled heart.
20 comments:
Crypt: Crips and Bloods?
Crypt: Encripted message: fpih. upi str yjr nrdy@#
Crypt: O Cripes, am I first on Doug's today?
..
Oh, a letter from the underground!
My feeble mind can make no connection between the word "crypt" and your poem.
Crypt is a creepy word, and your poem was not creepy at all. I actually enjoyed it.
:-)
Fireflies, fireflies, fireflies.
I said that to keep you from speaking evil all day long.
Jim, I deciphered your code and am blushing.
Sauerkraut, you probably get those a lot.
JD, a little too cryptic?
Oh poet of poets, in your mustard robe and crimson slippers you are teaching us that untroubled heart is the most troubled one. Throw your golden pen at the sun!
The cradle and crypt; the only places the poet has an untroubled heart.
CRYPT a room to die for
Surely this poem is encryption and Doug is really his usual vile self! Come back little curmudgeon....
Or, or...Doug's in LOVE! In which case his nerves will be worn and his knees shaken soon enough.
oh dear boy, wherefore thou cryptic poesy? Hast someone done you wrong? btw, thou needst no muse; thou hast it all in thine own heart. *cue Wizard of Oz music* ♥ xoxo
Ariel, you're cracking me up. Yes, let blood rise from the fountain pen and blot the whole Earth!
Icy, you would know.
Actonbell, I feel much better and more aggrieved now. Thank you for your concern.
Quilly, you and OC really have become one.
TLP, women of a certain age prefer me grouchy, I've noticed. Better?
Good grief, Mireille. I mean, xoxoxo but good grief as well.
"Quilly, you and OC really have become one."
That's what happens when you place two humans in the same crypt.
This was lovely though I really can't figure it out. I will study it further, and come to my own conclusions.
Crypt is a spooky word on this muggy Wednesday evening. Your poem was more like the definition, sort of...
Feel better, I think? I believe the only time we have an untroubled heart is in the crypt.
Lol. I sometimes feel that way too. And we find it sort of funny how Lou Dobbs was briefly and interestingly outraged about our, heh heh, President, but now is back on his illegal alien hobby horse again.
sometimes,
our feelings leak in.
its messy, at times,
but cleansing,
in a cryptic kind of way.
crypt.
a beautiful quiet place.
Cooper, an excellent observation.
G, it's the best time for reflection.
Weirsdo, is Dobbsie still trying to make the leprosy argument?
JJ, as Andrew Marvell described it: "The grave's a fine and private place,/But none I think do there embrace."
"Certain age"? Yep, you're back!
I knew you'd appreciate it.
And that Marvell quote is mine. You took it. xoxo
"You are the most vexatious creature, Prudence!" -Anna Cora Mowatt
I've missed this tale of the crypt. A perfect place for raven haven.
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