Home»Tag: Poem
August 6, 2015 Will Rieger

Maturity

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Many muse over the mark of maturity,
A sign that one’s grown up good,
Some say it’s a symbol of utter conformity,
That society has been ingrained as it should.

And though this all may ring verily true,
With more candid acts and honest reactions,
And a taller height with ‘stache may ensue,
Maturity is using less violence, less action.

It is growing enough to know when to stop,
When to calm your head and think,
To use your words to effect change and drop
The malady in you heart – let it shrink

August 1, 2015 Will Rieger

Cost

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What is the cost of something beautiful,
Something divine,
Something immutable?

Paid in hours of arduous toil,
Paid in ransom,
In midnight oil.

Is there tithing enough to see
Pulchritude manifest itself so free
As starlight glinting across the sea,

Or in the candor of unending verse,
Over the massive white flowering trees,
Those triumphs worth ever more than a purse.

July 31, 2015 Will Rieger

Sad Summer

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The summer months filled with idleness of sorrow;
Oh how I wish for a better then, tomorrow,
One that will grant a brighter sky
And which has limitations all the less – high.

Squandered is the sun’s gay light
That flutters down its celestial flight,
To ensconce all men in ethereal bliss-
At least until the cold comes to hiss.

July 30, 2015 Will Rieger

Of Days

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Late nights have coveted my mornings,
For how quickly does that saccharine dew fade
And leave me in a state of mourning
For the evaporated, decadent crystals who bade
A warm hello and happy day.

And in the late folds of the witching hour,
With most souls asunder in their dreams,
I sit awake with a serenity of dour
As the starless new-moon night not gleams;
Quite the opposite of a chirpy day.

A primordial expanse, the mind’s domain,
Oh how I wish the dreams would stay;
Alas, ethereal portals oft cease to remain
And they dissolve into warm nigh-afternoon rays
On this glorious, late-started day.

After the long, arduous, and raucous din
Of a hardly sonorous shift of clock clicks,
I wind down to the heavenly singing of a violin
And early retreat to the night’s fantasies without tricks,
Earnestly awaiting the forthcoming day.

‘Morrow’s morn is oh so sweet
As I rise early with the glorious sun
To greet him in his embrace ‘fore heat
Encloses the land and mars its brun;
This morning shall make a seraphic day.

July 30, 2015 Will Rieger

Enjoyable Life

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I am drunk yet I drink not a drop of spirit.
I am high though my feet have scarcely left the ground.
I am dreaming but my eyes dare not close a wink,
Lest I miss the fair beauty of life all around.

In every small thing,
Every mundane action,
The thrill of a day,
Or a night, is impactful.

Meaning infused in every instance
Is seen, if in err,
as mosaic on plain wall:
White with an abstract air.

And all the events in this wondrous existence
Sum up together as no others can,
To be amplified by the common human experience,
Graced and endeavored by all of man.

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