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Killer in the Band

Meager Gropings in Madness Genre Rating
Author James Bryron Love Poetry General



First Chapter

Forward

 

 

These are a collection of poems from the 1970’s through to the 1990’s

It has been brought together finally as a full book.

 

The Author James Bryron Love is writer, poet and artist. His studies have included philosophy and literature. He has spent may years sculpting stone and now also works in oils as a painter.

 

 To find out more you can go to his website

 

http://jamesbryronlove.com

 

All works are copyrighted and all rights reserved

 

This book may be freely distributed as long as no fees are charged

 

PART 1

 

 

"DELUSION"

 

 

 

 

OMENS IN TIMES, FUTURE WORLDS.

QUAINT REALISMS OF DOUBT.

BOUNDED BY GLORY,DEADENED SIGHTS,

BLINDED BY LIGHT IN SKIES DARKENED

WITH PAGEN RITUAL, CLOUDED

BY EMOTIONS AND SIGHTS OF YOU.

 

 

 

 

RESEMBALANCES OF CLOUDS, PUFFY, DRIVEN

IN SOLEMN SKIES OF VIOLENT ACTS.

LIGHTNING SHINES IN BEAUTY, DESPAIR

OF WHICH EYE IT IS SEEN.

IF A LOVE CONSUMES ITSELF, IT'S NOT LOST,

MERELY GONE OF PRESENT;

TO CONTINUE LATER IN RENEWANCE.

LIGHTNING SLASHES DOORWAYS, WINDOWS, FACES.

 

 

 

PAGES OF TEARS, SEARING MEMORIES

TAKE ME BACK, PAST THE MORN;

IN MOMENTS, LIFETIMES OF

HAPPINESS, DESPAIR.

IF I COULD LOVE YOU, I WOULD,

WITHIN THAT MOMENT, COMETS PASS,

BEGINNING AGAIN.

LOVING IS A PLEASURE THAT

SURELY COMES WITH USE.

 

 

 

JOURNEYS OF DEATH

 

STIRRING WORDS, WORLDS, MIXTURE OF LIFE

STANDING SILENTLY ON THE PATHS,

NOISES SCATTERING OVERHEAD.

A PATH IN APATH ON A PATH

HAS NO DIRECTION AND EVERYONE,

IF STANDING STILL,WITHOUT MOTION

IS THE SAME AS GOING SOMEWHERE.

WHERE WILL I BE WHEN

DARKNESS CLAIMS THIS LAND.

BURSTS OF FIRE, DANCING LIGHT

IN THE AURA MOON OF MORN,

SLEEPING IS ENDLESS, LONELY

FOR HE WHO KNOWS NOT WHEN

HIS JOURNEY IS ENDED.

 

 

 

CONFESSIONS OF DOUBT

 

CONFESSIONS LINGERED,CALLING UPON MEMORIES,

DREDGED FROM THE PAST, PRESENT, NOW.

PRETENSE ABOUNDS, CREATING IT'S DEATH,

CONFUSING ISSUES WITH STYLISH GRACE.

STANDING LONELY IN DOORWAYS, FEARING,

REPULSED BY THOUGHTS THAT MIGHT NOT BE.

 

IS IT DOUBT ABOUT WAHT PERTAINS OR

RANDOM TERROR FROM HIDDEN WITHIN?

 

THE SOUL CRIES OUT;

ASTOUNDED;

RAPED,

QUIET IN THOUGHTS

THAT SHATTER, CRUSH THE WILL TO SURVIVE.

 

IF IT BE CONFESSION THAT MOTIVATES

OR MERELY LUST OF DOUBT,

BE WHAT MAY TO THE QUESTIONS IN DAWN.

 

TOMORROWS GATHERED IN CRYSTAL GLASS,

YESTERDAYS REMOVED FROM MY GAZE;

TO LINGER, QUIET, REMORSEFUL.

SHIELDING EYES FROM QUAINT REALISMS

OF DOUBT.

IN THE QUIET HOURS,

INSOMNIAC RIDDEN DAWN.

 

 

 

 

 
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