crying lines: a sestina

I must needs write this sestina
wasting countless reams of paper
scratching out aching words to find
my way to carry forward on this journey
a simple vessel that should never impede
these crying lines inked ‘specially for you

senseless sentences directed towards you
I struggle while writing yet another sestina
refusing to yield to thoughts that impede
my vagrant scratching across this paper
setting out heedlessly upon this journey
that takes me ever towards what I find

I must have in order to finally find
that gift of gifts ‘specially for you
if it is to be found along this journey
that will ever hold me through my sestina
a timeless pursuit of words upon paper
thoughts on top of thoughts impede

while yet I refuse to let them impede
my progress toward what I hope to find
with each drop blotted from this paper
bearing these lines inked especially to you
lines that have compelled writing this sestina
should we ever embark upon this journey

that may some day become our final journey
together should nothing ever dare impede
these words as they slowly form my sestina
allowing at long last to finally find
those lines I’ve been trying to give you
they’re in my heart not on this paper

words that must never land on paper
I look forward to sharing this journey
I tremble while scrawling these lines to you
hoping against all odds nothing can impede
my desire to achieve that end I find
I must needs write yet another sestina

lest faded paper should your trek impede
this fruitless journey it seems that to find
what I’ve written you must read this sestina

Words do not Care

I struggle to put words on paper
That seems to avoid my chalk
Through many sleepless nights
I sit waiting for dawn
Hoping for a temporary calm
To my scattered thoughts

Clinging to the tuft of grass
There on the lip of the cliff
Praying for it to keep holding
For just one more heartbeat

Dancing along a razor’s edge
What does a hero ever get?
Almost dead yesterday
Maybe dead tomorrow
What good is being alive
If it means living caged?

He knew very well
That he was quite mad
But because he was mad
He simply did not care

~~~~~Jerry Marks