Laughing Sorrow

I will not feel as I felt today.
Is it a hope
that the presence of persistent ghosts
will not wake
upon the widening of my eyes.
The question of dawn,
what the day will hold,
the taunts and whistles of memories.
It must be
that the poets are given a gift
of simple misery,
a blessing of repetitive sorrow,
the humor of different voices,
the morning laughing
with a bright and blinding light.

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13 thoughts on “Laughing Sorrow

  1. The way your poem found me today… It was bright morning here, all the kookaburras laughed, then a cold south wind blew in, clouds the colour of a sea’s heavy fog draped across the morning’s blue.

  2. Your words have given voice to a truth that has haunted poets.

    It must be
    that the poets are given a gift
    of simple misery,
    a blessing of repetitive sorrow,
    the humor of different voices,
    the morning laughing
    with a bright and blinding light.

    Now I am left to muse and listen to the different voices in your poem.

  3. I agree.
    “that the poets are given a gift
    of simple misery,
    a blessing of repetitive sorrow,
    the humor of different voices,
    the morning laughing
    with a bright and blinding light.”
    Without sorrow, joy and journey. We would be a empty book. We must journey a many paths and know a thousand emotions. Than we can write.

    • Poignant words, John. Even though it can be painful, the way poets express and analyze their emotions and experiences is a gift. I really believe that. Blessings for your journey ….and your writing ๐Ÿ™‚

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