by Ed or Ian Henderson   Jun 21, 2009

The bulb has shattered from misuse.
The filament's intact: a thousand coils of intuition.
Darkness stems a tide of truth,
Like a lovesick heart's admission.
Your armour's warm, deflecting
The horizon that's to come.
So with these impacts you're absorbing
Maybe, at last, ad infinitum.

Incredible wires twist and weave away
The imaginations of the early innovators.
The void spawns forth derision,
Like the lovesick, spurned, all hate us.
A lacklustre chase builds to our rear,
On a mountain built on a soapbox.
The pursuit that will in time disappear:
As all shepherds die before flocks.
All watchmakers start out on clocks.


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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by Ray Smallshaw

    I think you have hit the nail on the head with this poem. Been there, lovesick with its confusion of emotions and feelings. I must admit I had to read this several times to get the jist and meter but it brought back a lot of memories. I was lucky as my love was not unrequited. 5/5 Ray S

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