Miserere mei

I’m a bad broke poet who chooses to confess his sins at dawn.
That’s when the Good Book says God’s mercies are newly minted
and it just feels prudent to act when there are sufficient funds.
 
Some evenings forgiveness feels empty, like I’ve driven too far
that day and the low fuel light’s on and there’s not a station
in sight. Better to just stop and sleep. Of course this means
 
that if I should die before I wake there’ll be loose ends. I fully
intended to tie them up come morning but the sun never rose
on my good intentions. My last words were the stars.
 
 
 
 

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11 Comments

  1. wynnegraceappears on August 2, 2013 at 2:27 pm

    Brilliant, poet friend. You knocked this so far out of the park we all have to go get a collective “new ball” to continue to play at writing poetry. 🙂 bravo bravo

    • thebeautifuldue on August 2, 2013 at 8:12 pm

      Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ve never received a ‘bravo bravo’ before…not quite sure how to feel. But thanks!

  2. Jamie Wright Bagley on August 2, 2013 at 2:39 pm

    Your words are a balm to my wrestling spirit.
    This is brilliant. Thank you.

    • thebeautifuldue on August 2, 2013 at 8:13 pm

      Jamie, thank you for your comment. And you’re welcome.

  3. Mimi on August 2, 2013 at 3:31 pm

    Lectio Divina.

  4. Diana Trautwein on August 3, 2013 at 5:50 am

    Somehow I hope my last words are the stars. Lovely, John. I like it when you get your cowboy hat on.

  5. Peg Richards on August 3, 2013 at 12:58 pm

    It seems somehow irreverent to comment on such a poem with anything more than tears, John.

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