No Man Is An Island

The dread in my life is almost more than I can bear
I'm knocking on a door that vanishes with each touch
The weight of responsibility is in full force
Between honoring my mother and father
And a child that must swallow her Father borrowing her time

I walk in a light that flickers along with my doubts
When the right thing is the wrong thing
What can be picked from a vine of unending questions?
To be released from suffocating love
I'd rather bury myself in delusion than face another day of reality

When death is life
Have I become immoral?
When a child's forgiveness is assumed
Have I become calculating with love?
When a moment alone is all I crave
Have I become a deserted island?
No matter
The whisper of the conch never ends

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Comments 7 comments

Minnetonka Twin profile image

Minnetonka Twin 4 years ago from Minnesota

Wow, this is one deep poem. I found the last line very intriguing. "When death is life, Have I become immoral." I hit many buttons on this brilliant piece.


Teylina profile image

Teylina 4 years ago

"The whisper of the conch never ends" pretty much sums it up. Awesome, haunting poem. One of those we need to reread. I love the phrase "I'd rather bury myself in delusion than face reality." Unfortunately, all too true for many of us no matter the issue sometimes. Thanks for writing.


The Suburban Poet profile image

The Suburban Poet 4 years ago from Austin, Texas Author

@Minnetonka - Thank you. It was real... the dread I endured over a family situation that lingers (my Dad and his Alzheimers) was getting to me...

@Teylina - Thank you... Delusion versus reality. I think that's where we all run on occasion....


4 years ago

Wow. Beautiful.


The Suburban Poet profile image

The Suburban Poet 4 years ago from Austin, Texas Author

@C - Thank you. You are very kind.


missolive profile image

missolive 4 years ago from Texas

The whisper of the conch never ends

- a very powerful ending for a very powerful poem filled with the juxtapositions of fear, love, commitment and duty. A balance that is frequently challenged as we grow older - when those that led us as children slowly slip away, but need our assistance. And those that need us reach for guidance and understanding. We've reached that wall between ancestors and descendants...pulled between journeys and pressed within time.

Hang in there Mark


The Suburban Poet profile image

The Suburban Poet 4 years ago from Austin, Texas Author

Thank you missolive. It is a very tough spot at times. And decisions have to be made; possibly this year.... I'm not looking forward to it..

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