When moorings are lost

yet not really mourned, 

a faux fatalism

may set in, concede

limits to free will, 

and explain away

the now desolate, 

the ice newly thinned. 


But it won't be long 

before such comfort

proves too tremulous

for real renaissance, 

or genuine healing, 

which will arise

from one's ownership

of generating 

all states of feeling, 

all by themselves, 

regardless of others'

intentions, projections, 

actions, or words...

◄ Clarion Call

Fictions ►


Holden Moncrieff

Mon 4th Jul 2022 02:25

Thank you so much, John, I'm always deeply grateful for your encouraging comments! 😎

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John Botterill

Sun 3rd Jul 2022 20:36

I can relate to this poem, Holden. In the current state of the world many people have lost their moorings. Clever and profound 😎

Holden Moncrieff

Sun 3rd Jul 2022 03:22

Thank you very much, Carol, I truly appreciate you taking the time! 😊

<Deleted User> (33719)

Sun 3rd Jul 2022 00:03

Very interesting Holden! To let your words sink in, I read your poem through a few times. It all comes together in a narrative that hits the mark.

Holden Moncrieff

Sat 2nd Jul 2022 15:07

Thank you so much for your very kind comment, Rose, it means a lot! 😊

<Deleted User> (9882)

Sat 2nd Jul 2022 09:46

They ( poem's ) do NOT come much better than this Holden

it is a brilliantly definite ' up my street' kind of poem.

cheers matey! 👍

RC 💋

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