Shatter, scatter, broken glass and thunder,
I see bruises on the sunset, beaches silent,
My breath creates mist in lonely summer.
I seem to rage and hurt and wish karma,
The heart stained, like my craft; violent,
lacking subtleties, I fall and ask for mother.
In day I rest in my arms, in mornings I shutter.
Its daybreak, breathe kindness, godly likeness,
I’m more reason to cry, reason smiles might stutter.
Unto the light I might go blind, insight; I’m martyr,
In page I might dance, freely grasp God’s climax.
In head I’m darkened, anxious about future blunders.
As the day ends and begins, I stay as a Lover.
Breathing grows better, I learn to find substance
smiles I glitch out, to her I’m willing to be founder
of my sunset in smiles, to polish the Universe of dentures,
to hold the cosmos in breath, to sing a consciousness
of gods encountering worship, to birth nostalgia
in a future, to crack a chuckle and truly embrace.
By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’
Artwork by Tomasz Alen Kopera
℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗
2020 All Rights Reserved ©
Villanelle of the Mirror seeing Me
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