A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.

*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.

but aren't they all random?

Monday, September 15, 2014

one who holds hell.

I am one who holds hell is not
the horror you are condemned to
for ever, or even for life. Oh, those who abide
there may know hell
may very well last that long. At least,
it may feel like it, but hell is not

the bad thing,
to which you are condemned. Hell is the amazing thing
you are forced to do utterly,
foreverly without.

And for life,
forever probably
- or it feels like it. Who cares! Anymore.

Hell is just
what that feels like. Hell
is just what feels like that.

It doesn't matter how long
it's going to last.
It doesn't even necessarily have
to exist

for you to feel it, those flesh
-tearing hooks and hot tongues
of flame. A lake of fire?

You and I could have blown it out like a candle, woman
we were such a match! Hell

is the punishing agony of banishment,

to the finest and best good, given it,
and denied it.

Hell is where you live.

And what you are forced to endure, from having
once known love,

to now,
when you know how sure:

it is denied.

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