The edifice crumbles, 

the artifice emerges, 

the venerable scramble

to conserve a sliver

of sorcery, a morsel

of mockery, to muddy

a salutary catharsis,

lest the tributary

discovered dare lead

to a river of liberty. 

◄ Anew

Narratives ►


Holden Moncrieff

Wed 19th Jan 2022 01:21

Thank you so much for the very kind comments, Keith, Stephen G., Leon, John, and Stephen A., they mean a lot, and I am truly grateful! 😊😊

Profile image

Stephen Atkinson

Tue 18th Jan 2022 22:26

Your poetry never crumbles, Holden, it's built to last!

Profile image

John Botterill

Tue 18th Jan 2022 15:48

Superb! Love the economy of style and the power of your diction, Holden.

Profile image


Tue 18th Jan 2022 11:18


Profile image

Stephen Gospage

Tue 18th Jan 2022 08:58

Yes, an intriguing poem. The edifice replaced by the artifice, with freedom still tantalisingly remote. It sets one thinking.

Profile image

keith jeffries

Tue 18th Jan 2022 08:30

This poem is the first I have read today and it speaks to me of what is taking place as society seems to be tipping on the edge of something none of us can properly articulate or predict. The first and last lines hold the keys. Your words seem to have inhabited my sub conscious for some time. This poem expresses my feelings at this moment.
Thank you for this

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message