DavidS
Active Member
I started this poem yesterday about my last year of life. I hope y’all like it. Still needs so much more.
The Sixth of June
In chains my mind is bound
Such curious things wrought from birth.
In the midst of first love was the malady found.
Oh, how quickly thoughts and heart are abased to earth.
Accolades and achievement, honor and laurels won.
Acquaintance and stranger, both did equally foresee.
High praise and dreams attained in my time below the sun.
These all amount to naught, with emotions drenched in treachery.
“Different” was my moniker, one so proudly bore.
Social recluse yet so confident on platform granted.
The words would flow like water, steeped in fact and lore.
But against the affairs of fellow man my mind was slanted.
Life not long past was quiet, austere, and polite.
Content was my watchword and honesty all guiding.
My calm voice molded not by nature, yet to many brought delight.
These elements all a mask, a secret I knew not I was hiding.
It was she who found me, a gem in the rough.
So naive and yet so wise it seemed,
Herself the measure of time had weathered quite tough.
But a sweeter more gentle soul was never yet seen.
For months we chatted, and sparred with our minds.
And, anon, could this friendship be a match?
The prospect was shocking, and for reasons of all kinds.
Yet our courage was strong and our plan we did hatch.
We met hidden in plain sight, within the walls of Fort Defiance.
The scene about was less than inviting.
Men scrambling about on horse and foot upon their foe to gain compliance.
Throughout the scene, our eyes would catch and glint no matter all the fighting.
As night wore, and men to ground or bunk did go.
She lighted against me, my shoulder for her rest.
There, our lips first met, a more powerful thing I did not yet know.
Awake we stayed till morning’s light, reclined on deerskin nest.
Our hearts were won, but peace was not to be.
For familial strife is a force that can shake one’s core.
“She’s a hag, a whore, if you remain with her, no son are you to me!”
“Bold assumptions for one to make against one he’s not met before.”
The threats were empty, but the haranguing remained.
What more perfect gift to bestow son turned age one and twenty?
Than to threaten suicide traction hoping to be gained.
Her gift was a fiddle new and bright, the music made was plenty.
A disease she has had, from time before my birth.
It’s effect is ever constant within her frame.
Yet on she toils, proudly doing the Good Lord’s work.
And justice to her warrior’s claim.
As summer passes, a glimmer of hope was found.
A cure to heal the torture of two decades past
And I was ever by her side, my heart by fealty bound.
Plans were made, and plans discussed for a bond we dreamed would last.
September came, the tests complete, and for treatment we prepare
Whether for life or death we knew not which would be her fate.
Ensconced we were, deeply in fight, but if it was love or obsession let the reader declare.
For calmness ruled that day, and besides her I did faithfully wait.
The Sixth of June
In chains my mind is bound
Such curious things wrought from birth.
In the midst of first love was the malady found.
Oh, how quickly thoughts and heart are abased to earth.
Accolades and achievement, honor and laurels won.
Acquaintance and stranger, both did equally foresee.
High praise and dreams attained in my time below the sun.
These all amount to naught, with emotions drenched in treachery.
“Different” was my moniker, one so proudly bore.
Social recluse yet so confident on platform granted.
The words would flow like water, steeped in fact and lore.
But against the affairs of fellow man my mind was slanted.
Life not long past was quiet, austere, and polite.
Content was my watchword and honesty all guiding.
My calm voice molded not by nature, yet to many brought delight.
These elements all a mask, a secret I knew not I was hiding.
It was she who found me, a gem in the rough.
So naive and yet so wise it seemed,
Herself the measure of time had weathered quite tough.
But a sweeter more gentle soul was never yet seen.
For months we chatted, and sparred with our minds.
And, anon, could this friendship be a match?
The prospect was shocking, and for reasons of all kinds.
Yet our courage was strong and our plan we did hatch.
We met hidden in plain sight, within the walls of Fort Defiance.
The scene about was less than inviting.
Men scrambling about on horse and foot upon their foe to gain compliance.
Throughout the scene, our eyes would catch and glint no matter all the fighting.
As night wore, and men to ground or bunk did go.
She lighted against me, my shoulder for her rest.
There, our lips first met, a more powerful thing I did not yet know.
Awake we stayed till morning’s light, reclined on deerskin nest.
Our hearts were won, but peace was not to be.
For familial strife is a force that can shake one’s core.
“She’s a hag, a whore, if you remain with her, no son are you to me!”
“Bold assumptions for one to make against one he’s not met before.”
The threats were empty, but the haranguing remained.
What more perfect gift to bestow son turned age one and twenty?
Than to threaten suicide traction hoping to be gained.
Her gift was a fiddle new and bright, the music made was plenty.
A disease she has had, from time before my birth.
It’s effect is ever constant within her frame.
Yet on she toils, proudly doing the Good Lord’s work.
And justice to her warrior’s claim.
As summer passes, a glimmer of hope was found.
A cure to heal the torture of two decades past
And I was ever by her side, my heart by fealty bound.
Plans were made, and plans discussed for a bond we dreamed would last.
September came, the tests complete, and for treatment we prepare
Whether for life or death we knew not which would be her fate.
Ensconced we were, deeply in fight, but if it was love or obsession let the reader declare.
For calmness ruled that day, and besides her I did faithfully wait.
