I
don’t feel blameless or innocent;
I
grumble and dispute, so much dirt
on
my glass that I should be called
Saul
of Tarnish. Little light passes
through
to penetrate or pierce;
I
can’t see enough even to cry
tears,
the gloom so thick that
I’m
unable to cry at all. It
grasps
with a strangling embrace;
grumble,
grumble, toil
and
trouble, I complain
while
others crumble.
I
hear a shout:
a kingdom
for a nail,
a
nail for a kingdom,
a
nail, and my thumb is swollen,
a
nail for theses on a door,
a
nail, and a man died.
This
poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVersePoets. To see more poems, please visitthe site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time.
Photograph by nuzrath nuzree via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
9 comments:
Great poem Glynn!
first i thought of the poem a kingdom lost for a nail....and then martin...and then the cross...
nice write..emotionally stirring
Wow, Glynn, for wont of a nail...I too was surprised where these lines went.
i can't see
past the end of my nose,
past the end of my woes.
Looking close at despair,
so close, i don't care
that this is really bad prose.
Beautifully expressed.
Blown away, Glynn, just blown away . . .
Nice. I love how tight his poem is. :-)
Packed with metaphors
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