SOLITUDE

I am alone tonight
Forgotten by friends
And those held dear
Fog and cold beset me
Within long hours
I have myself to fear

Left to my own devices
Not sure what I will do
My mind wanders without anchor
No guidepost to trust is found within.
Cannot trust myself for this man I well know
I cannot consider him without rancor

He is chief of sinners
The worst man to ever live
A man of lust and greed
Pride and arrogance are his
I have no love of him
And this is why my heart bleeds.

To be lonely is to take chances.
Like weremen of old tales,
Venturing out at night
I may become a monster

Poetry
Something beyond compare
It describes things at which mere words fail
Giving to sight to us all
For we are all blind
Him who has ears, let him hear
Him who has eyes, let him see
There are things that cannot be understood
None can see the forest for the trees
Mankind has wrought the impossible
More often than we can count
Poets have made the heart fly
And the Wrights gave the body wings
Before vast mysteries
I will lay down my mind
My soul may glow with contemplation
Of heavenly spheres
Only poetry can describe
Whether it be Homer, David, Keats, or Kees
These, and their colleagues have built fantastic lenses

“Take it apart, break it down and tell me what it means,”
Said the teacher.
Looking down on this beautiful creation,
I could not do it, I must admit
For the frog and dog are quite themselves,
As are the cats and rats,
Without cutting them open to view
Their hearts and intestines,
Like small engines whirring.
I could not pull them apart,
For just a little bit of knowledge
And to the man that demands,
A punch on the jaw I’ll throw him.
I cannot pick and pull apart,
Such a beautiful creature as a poem.

One thousand days and nights he prayed,
Seeking to preserve his soul.
The fires of Hell crackled all around,
But still he strove along his noble way.

Another,
A hermit living inside a tree,
To remove all temptation did he fight.
Tested time and time again,
But still he strove along his noble way.

Another,
Formerly a costly and temporary friend,
She fled into the desert wastes.
Years and years, she was seen by God alone,
But still she strove along her noble way.

Still another,
Called a fool, she lived for other rules,
Not caring for the sense of men.
Cold and hungry, starved and poor,

I did not know the price I paid, when I cried,
“Give me Truth! I must have Truth! Give it to me at last!”
I did not know and am not sure,
If I regret that thing I asked.

For I have that which has no end,
And never did begin.
A thing of joy and warmth,
That makes all fire within.

He who seems a contradiction,
And is beyond such things.
Out of time, He begets all things,
And to my soul attaches flaming wings.

He gave a gift to me as well,
Much greater than the thing I bought.
I burn but am not consumed.
What a glorious mystery of Heaven has the Almighty wrought!

His gift was freely given.

Is this site still being kept up? I haven’t seen any new posts in quite some time. I have some poetry that I would like to submit, but I first need to know if anyone is out there.

the sinful servant of God,
Photios