A Confusedness in Nature

Here I sit with pen...

drawing it, sheath hissing...

it seeks blood, tears, provocation...

I hold it while it snarls at me...

to what purpose would this deadly art...

born in me...

natural to my fingers...

essential to my heart...

finding in it the power to enter minds...

rattle reserve on subjects where no thought precluded me...

it is easy...

crushing paper and people...

building them hopefully with equal grace...

yet in this I find myself repulsive...

shaping things with devilish tools...

using that hands of justice...

reaching for the part of the human heart that feels...

giving it a shock for mercy's sake...

even when I feel no mercy in so doing...

Using words I taught myself...

with no degree but that of hard knocks to vindicate...

and finding in my expression that I am a stranger...

I pray not alien to heaven's gate...

for even with my sociopathic heart...

using a laughable facsimile to conscience...

guided by intellect alone...

not feeling those gentle emotions...

that my actions lie and say are known...

what more can I do...?

I know not how to see...

and in such honesty I find release...

but to that end...

I cannot tell if it is of value...

to be free in rarefied air...

speaking to friends who hear...

trying to listen without the key...

when most of my ranting...

not meant for them...

yet directed at them so they might see...

comprehending as much of me as I can share...

reading yet not believing in what they read...

for a poet can hide in such places...

saying truth openly and not be believed...

even by those with the most discerning taste...

old poems being old news...

to be thrown away or discarded from view...

hungry for the new...

yet in honesty I don't see things that way...

everything I wrote was part of me...

each work roughly referring to the next...

and the previous...

a chain unbroken...

though some of the sympathetic work...

stories ripped from other's hearts...

says much about what I can do...

without a thought...

but where does that leave me...?

even knowing me as I do...

wanting you to know too...

wishing that explicitness were possible...

knowing it to be of no use...

so I vent and prod you once more...

with my hissing blade of ink...

so we as strangers and friends...

may have another link...

to bind us.

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Comments 8 comments

attemptedhumour profile image

attemptedhumour 5 years ago from Australia

Hi Jaggedfrost you're at it again. It's difficult to be completely unique but you have cornered the market. I'm crap at unravelling flowery poetry, so i've got no chance with this lot. But boy did i enjoy reading it. Cheers


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 5 years ago Author

I am glad you enjoyed it. I am sorry you don't understand it. Maybe it will come to you in time. Feel free to read it as many times as you wish. Cheers


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 5 years ago

We are all different...and that's what makes us, as Poets and writers, individuals. I would never want to read the same words written in the same way, over, and over again. I like your style, can't say that I always agree or understand everything..But I like it, because it is YOU and your UNIQUE style. I still feel like you're making excuses in this Poem...don't, for your style is YOU.


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 5 years ago Author

Perhaps it came out as an excuse but it was meant as I sometimes do to speak of honest things as honestly as I dare. An exhibition of my inner soul and some of my struggles to relate.


Dave Mathews profile image

Dave Mathews 5 years ago from NORTH YORK,ONTARIO,CANADA

Voted up and beautiful. Jaggedfrost I love your poetry it has such depth of meaning in it.


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 5 years ago Author

I am glad you stopped by and enjoyed Dave.


2young2know profile image

2young2know 5 years ago from Lindon

You carry so much emotion and a lot of it holds much pain. Having to hold on tightly to who you are because you can't let yourself out has got to be gruesome. No wonder you have so much to say. It's like having a full breath of air and having only a coffee stirrer to let it out with. I wish I could help.


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 5 years ago Author

:-) Being here and enjoying the brew as always helps.

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