A Post Poe Pondering…
What, oh What, shall this Year bring?
A nominal nothing or a Mighty Thing?
So what is real and what is crap?
Lying wasted, I’ve had my nap.
Need to wander, ponder, saunter
Get my move on and really want to
Give the gift I have inside me
Need my muses to please guide me
Bradstreet, Poe, Dickinson, Thackeray
Though, am I worthy or full of quackery?
Nearing sixty and still no lasting
Works abound but still no passing
Into glory and recognition
Exiting from my field of vision
Of lasting on beyond my existence
Writing steady and with consistence.
Oh, Twain and Dickens, how’d you do it
Never ending, and rushed to do it!
I, who endlessly am lazy
Collect my thoughts yet still am hazy
Perhaps this now will be my year
To leave a tome, an atmosphere
Of something useful, mighty, keen
To once and for all fulfill my dream
Of leaving a mark on the earth’s blackboard
Of standing out amidst the horde
Of countess lives who all have meaning
Yet mostly silent and some left screaming
For the glory few will ever possess
Left out of history and steadfastness
Gone tomorrow and missed by none
Die in silence and no glory won.
Will I waken now and beckon
Will I finally face the reckon
Or still in cloud will go to sleep
And will not care if soul to keep?
Oh, these fates, they leave me breathless
Will I stand or still be feckless?
Grab the morrow!
Be brave and daring!
Quit the sniveling
And start preparing!
For the grandeur that awaits thee
Go get your glory, and let the fates be
Yours and only yours, you’re earned your places
Into history and bookcases!
December 30, 2018