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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Sounds of Light and Fury (3.0)

Hey all,

October 18th, today is my birthday. As with my previous birthdays I commemorate the day with a poem, a reflection on the year that passed, or a glimpse towards what the future holds, whatever seems to strike the mood I have. Turning 33 brings me that much closer to middle age, something I certainly don't feel or act like I am close to. I doubt you ever really feel your age truly. At some point you simply wake up and wonder where your life went. Certainly 33 isn't old by any means, but I find myself in a situation so similar to what I faced last year. Still silently pining for someone who doesn't know, or even doesn't feel, the way I do. The same insecurities and doubts that have lit my path the last 365 days.

This poem certainly started out darker than it ends, I think in writing it I came to my own conclusions. The future isn't written, and there is far more possible than I can dream. The future remains what you make of the present, and perhaps this year will offer a better possibility. Perhaps not, but I like the path the poem takes, a journey from quiet reflection, to the darkest of futures, the the hope of the present and the fact that one can still change.

This poem is a double milestone actually, marking not only my third birthday poem, but my 100th poem on the site, something I am really proud of. The fact that I wrote 100 poems means a lot to me. It's proof that I haven't given up, and maybe that some of that bright future can be taken with perseverance. To survive work I like and hate, to write things that resonate within myself still, and to write things I no longer feel. It's a means to look back and see how I felt at that moment, a glimpse at the paths I have lead to get me to that moment.

I told myself a few months back that when I reached this milestone I would re-use the title of my blog, one of the first poems I wrote for the site. I actually wrote another poem with the same title a year later, so I thought that it might be fun to see the different ways I can use the title to set mood. It's been used to mark the horror of the Apocalypse and as a a representation of the things that find me bliss. Today it heralds in a new future. It's a title that means a lot to me, and I hope that you all find something in this poem, either love or hate, sorrow or joy. Make it what you will. Above all though, thank you for reading what I write, for I am nothing without words, and words are sometimes the only thing I think I really do have. Thank you.

Sounds of Light and Fury (3.0)

Today I age another year,

No reason for a birthday cheer.

But loath, regret or sorrowed days,

Have themselves resonate ways.

Wrinkles crease on creaky bones,

My skins flecks with aged tones.

Vigor that once felt so supple,

Now I hardly find the trouble.

Nearly halfway done the days go by,

Sooner still the end will cry.

I fear the future blank to me,

To wonder what is meant to be.

Dark and dreary the present loams,

Along a dim light path my travel roams.

Feeling forward to an empty space,

Along a one way path does lifetime race.

There are no winners at the end,

Your rewards something you just can't defend.

This prize, a gift, that many fear,

Brought on silent steps you cannot hear.

But known to all the gift she holds,

For it's reaped and sewn unto the folds.

You can but make your peace and pray on high,

Before your time at rest, comes to ply.

Make the most of life until the last,

The passing days cross ever fast.

When the time ahead looms shorter soon,

And your memories of past lay mis-strewn.

You think upon all you've done wrong,

Back when the days felt so long.

And possibility had no doubt,

But now you come to regret your route.

What if I had made a better choice,

Or given lost fears a chance to voice.

Told the girl you'd loved her so,

Or taken that risk you chanced just so?

I don't want to hate myself just then,

To wonder about my life at the end.

Thirty Three and plagued by guilt,

A mounting pressure that causes wilt.

I still have time to act or try,

Life's to early to lay and die.

To buckle down, CARPE DIEM!

And take a risk as I see them.

So Happy Birthday, my brand new world,

I'll greet each day, my wings unfurled.

A whole new purpose to which I hurry,

The triumphant sounds of light and fury.

End of Line.

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