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Conviction
busy
I order an answer
full of ring and rage
a cold answer
an answer to stop
all future worlds from being
and no doubt in any
part of me after
a while
Poems on the topic: rage
Poems on the topic “rage” on Poets.by.
Routine
I dress myself in rage
at abominable dealings
I eat a bad apple a day
in a cold tavern
Changeling
My birthday is water in wine,
an impertinent chance.
I do not concern myself with it.
Give me rage
and I shall go on:
I was a changeling.
The man in whose place I troll
was born happy.
Ungrounded
I could not speak
my sorrow so I begin
to rage
a candle
lit to burn
in the chimney
knowing myself
to have given ground
to air
A Question
I asked if I got sick and died, would you
With my black funeral go walking too,
If you’d stand close to hear them talk or pray
While I’m let down in that steep bank of clay.
And, No, you said, for if you saw a crew
Of living idiots pressing round that new
Oak coffin--they alive, I dead beneath
That board--you’d rave and rend them with your teeth.
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