The Raw Deal

Cursed

by bloody doubt,

which signed Fear’s manifesto

with the hasty wit…

I guess good things are like wine,

which is

much finer with time..

-Sage

©SagePoetry 2018.

voids

I’m doubt ridden

about living

in ways

far from how my heart feels…

My beats are beating

through sternum

to fight from hurting…

Cuz pain,

only shows true gain

if it’s from learning.

Yet,

(the same mistakes)

keep staking me to the grain…

These tools of sin,

keep carving a brother’s name…

Mercy me,

it hurts to be the outcast…

who knows..

This light of mine

might shine

if I could outlast…

-Sage

Photo: ikutokitten/ DeviantArt.net

webs we weave.

My heart’s split in a thousand threads,
yet
each wicked twine spins new sorrow..

Unraveled minds,
leaving behind
a broken shell..

The house of pain.

The home of truth.

The bed of despair.

Is this the cocoon for me to own?

Wrapped in wrath?
To bloom in hate??

Or does pressure squeeze magnificent stones?
Birth immovable anatomy?
Found internal fortresses?

Yes it is true, I cannot shield
YOUR pain,

YOUR anguish..

But maybe I can knit a new narrative.

Stitch a new standard.

Patch renewed passion,

in those who choose to thread
beyond dread

and

lace new faith

in those who choose to believe

beyond belief..

-Sage

Reflections

So much to hate.

So much to love.

So much to feel..

So little time,

Such little patience.

So many ills..

Somebody cares.

Somebody doesn’t.

Nobody deals..

Life isn’t perfect.

Life isn’t fair.

But life is real..

So think that,

look in the mirror,

and see what’s looking back..

-Sage

simple snares

Idle words in the dead of the night,

fiend response

in unGodly hours.

“whatever” can fix these fits..

as long as it comes quick..

So he pours slow

when pitted with these pangs for pleasure.

You know he rather feel emotion by the liter..

Just dirty habits of a hollow heart,

still itching with temptation..

But, in truth,

he fiends control

and sinks in his shortcomings.

Yet

so eager to see

just how far

this rabbit hole goes..

-Sage

The Jedi

I was a star before books had answers

in a galaxy far beyond these bars and stanzas.

Molding novas into ink to tame flames of an enflamed brain, breaking the cells thats barring me..

Such routine is boring me.

So I’m alien to the concept of your world

cuz I live in fantasies of making ’em reality..

notebook space

is the only place that I call home.

At least until this carbon decides to copy the rest,

in peace..

Then I’ll be a free man,

no longer fighting this fire with fire

and no longer taking such pains

in vain.

-Sage

Broken

I let the ink roll…

and stain pearl pages

to purge curved rages

that really relish in the venom thats been

soiling my soul.

no.

I let the ink roll…

and stain pearl pages

for brilliant explanations

on what troubles I hold.

no.

I let the ink roll,

and stain pearl pages

for the hazards that I’m faced with

and the grit it takes to make it..

Too sullied with grief

to wade in patience.

Impatient.

So sullied,

my grief

gradually grates my greatness..

Degrading.

I don’t know…

I think I let the ink roll,

and stain pearl pages

to mark these traces

of hope

in hopes that it never gets mistaken.

-Sage