Enters horned desire with bowing grace
But scant regard for the thorned trunk
That it must climb
To touch and taste
And pluck from its place… The prize of its obsession
Descends again with bleeding hands
And seeming cherished pain...
With scant regard for injuries self-inflicted
Totally oblivious to the slow death
Which creeps upon a soul
That constantly bleeds itself...
Comes stumbling now…
Under the influence of a fleeting satisfaction
And falls... Losing the grip it had
On the forbidden fruit
For which it sacrificed its life
For the promise of vain ecstasies
And finally reaps... The Grim Reaper’s due
Excerpt From: Roy Alexander Graham, “In My Element” Figtree Enterprises, Inc., 2012.
For more of my poetry visit www.figtreeenterprises.com
In the mid 1990s, the leader of one of the world’s most popular musical enterprises shook up the assumptions many had about his life when ...
Some random thoughts on a recent flight... The idea that we are free and are therefore ultimately responsible for the choices we make is ...
Ralph Waldo Emerson - in one of his many moments of clarity - reminds us that: “ The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is ...
It has been declared that politics is about life. I want to expand and expound on that: Politics is about our lives together. Beyond our...