Poeticous Logo
it
English Español Français Italiano
Wil Kavi

Wil Kavi

Lost child

Alone,
in the same old crowd,
trying to ignore
this stifling pain.
 
I am but
a lost and lonely child,
aching to be seen
and touched again.
 
I am ashamed to say
I don’t know how
to reach beyond
this veil of fear.
 
I miss you
and love you always,
though I know not
who or what you are.

(2013)

1
Piaciuto o affrontato da...
Altre opere di Wil Kavi...
Where I end

I’ve been so afraid to speak these heartfelt words. This secret has been kept so well, from myself, by myself,
 1
Wheel of karma

Your end? My end? Where the hell’s the middle? You say this. I say that.
You are what you seek

I was surrounded by many desperate, troubled people. There was much drinking, drugging, and violence. Women were being bought and sold,
The abyss

Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.
The storm

The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I can barely breathe. I fear this tempest
Nothing less

Sweet Mary Jane bade me follow where she led. I went eagerly. She was my life’s one true love. All the others,
glosa....'The Beggar and the Woman"

Neon lights buzzed in staccato out… Sleep seemed something I dare not… I took myself looking to ease my a… keeping to steamy side-streets and… heading for the part of town beyon…
 1
Amends

I humbly bow before your tender me… for no other reason than I’m sorry… As I listen to my old pal, Leonar… crooning out his holy tunes, there’s a message sounding clear
 1
Thief in the night

Not so long ago I was convinced you were the culprit, the masked robber of my sacred trust.
monkey shines

1998.... while touring india.... exploring the town of rishikesh a popular hindu pilgrimage site along the banks of the holy mother…
 1
Hole in the bucket

My bucket had a hole in it. I kept trying to fill it. The more I tried, the more flowed down the drain. It wasn’t for lack of what was nee…
I am oracle

I dreamed of being lost and trappe… in a land of angry fearful liars. There was nowhere to run or hide. I cowered cornered and exhausted, my back against the furthest wall;
 1
Imperfect time and place.

My father is dead, still he speaks through me; “Don’t say anything....OR ELSE!… There was plenty of “OR ELSE!” to go around.
A child’s prayer

I was seven years old. I approached the priest in earnest… “I want to take the lord Jesus in… He instructed me to kneel and pray… A week passed.
Poor me

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;



Alto