Sunday, February 1, 2015

DT's



LOSING FAITH IN ME
I am lost,
adrift in flight,
never knew the straightest way to move,
but I tried, every day,
to follow a continuing crumbling compass.

It is just the cost
of who I’ve been
gone bust,
the places I have been
turned to rust.

All are more than paid up memory to me
but now they’re mostly dissipated,
unrelated sepia photo’s fading.
Born high up in the rising wind cloud
of aging’s dust born from a mind gone dry.

It is flying there their brokenness crumbled them,
lightened them ‘nough to fly directionless—
with only tiny today bits o’ me.
I broke apart so long ago that—
now the fractured state of me feels orderly.

There is more direction in this place
than there is space to move;
here where I’ve found myself lost in.
I know I’ll settle back down, when the wind is done,
has finished blowing where it blew.

I’ll alight right back,
lost on different ground
I may or not have found before
had I not spent my life
losing the very strongest strength of me.

© M Durfee
2.1.2015

13 comments:

  1. Getting lost has its own lessons ~ If we are never lost, how would we know how to handle mistakes as we are always thinking we are right and so sure about the world ~ And even among the chaos and brokenness, there is calm and order ~

    ReplyDelete
  2. A mind examining the pieces after the fall. Great job.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your poetry is powerful, and you are a great teacher, Mark ... and I thank you ... so there ... Love u, cat.

    ReplyDelete
  4. We break and remold, break and remold. Until we are all patchwork.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I broke apart so long ago that—
    now the fractured state of me feels orderly.

    wow, quite the lines...i think that in losing the strength of us
    we are able to see other things in a humility that is good...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Perhaps you are trembling on a new brink?



    ALOHA from Honolulu
    ComfortSpiral
    <3

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wonderfully lyrical, even in your misery. I wish you well even as I enjoy.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Yet another reason it sucks to be a poet: "a clear sky and no memories." But you have some kick-ass lines there.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Yet another reason it sucks to be a poet: "a clear sky and no memories." But you have some kick-ass lines there.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Sometimes being lost helps you find something amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Oy.
    Makes me think my heart belongs to dada.
    Paint the moustache on the Mona Lisa!
    How many times did I try to make Mona drunk so I could have my way--only to get drunk myself. And feel like this.
    It'll pass at the next cafe. Ho Don!

    ReplyDelete
  12. powerful post.

    http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2015/02/hyde-park-poetry-palace-thursdy-poets.html

    please ahre a poem with us today, read others and get feedback from our supporters as well.

    best regards.
    awesome poetry.

    ReplyDelete

So Walking Man I was thinking...