Devilishly delighting in the denial of even
A nugatory spoonful of desiderata
To hungry hearts longing for just
A taste of warmth of dreamy visions.
He was a cold hearted cryophilic species
Much preferring the islands of his own deceits
To an isthmus of connectedness
Even with those he claimed to love.
Ever focused on the dirty deeds of his
Daily existence–“for the nonce, for the nonce”,
Powerfully denying any brighter future outside
Of surety of death.
Even as golden mountain’s fresh alpenglow
After summer’s quenching rains
Offered an aeromancy of possibility
Of sweeter days to come.
Spring to Summer, Fall to Winter
Seasons of unchanging surety of sameness,
His daily nonexistence flowed forever
Through the marrow of his essence.
Even while shifting lunar cycles made their play all round,
Each tide shifting willing spirit’s sands of dissimilarity,
New to First to Full to Quarter
Waxing to Waning, Gone and back again.
Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 02/05/2016
This is the fifth in a series of poems using 7 consecutive http://www.dictionary.com words of the week (https://coachhinesblogs.com/2016/02/01/zenith-missing). This week’s words were isthmus, cryophilic, nonce, aeromancy, alpenglow, desiderata, and nugatory.
I wrapped up the reading of my 10th book of 2016 this week-Charles Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities. I think some of the emotions I experienced in the final half of the book snuck in here and met up with some earlier life experience. Maybe this devil is depression? Maybe depression’s work on a person is like the devilish figures of Dickens making their way through the streets and prisons of the guillotine-era? Thank you for reading :).