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More's the Pity
by Ken HarnischMore’s the pity
That slow revelations become flaming insights
And blind men see what their guide dogs have been avoiding
Since the leash was raised up to the hand
Love’s fierce light has a way of keeping
The glare shining in your eyes. Okay,
It’s better in the sun
But the shadows have their treacheries
And what you do not see often writes
Itself as epitaph on the gravestones of broken hearts
No victim is sadder than the ones who dreamed
They had the perfect love. No story goes more
Unheard than the one told weeping in
A beer. The rites of passage say it is your turn now:
Best to keep it to yourself, or put it in a poem
More’s the pity
That the universe is full of sympathy
But passing on warnings that you know
Will go unheard is so damned futile
Better the blind man stumble, so next time
He will trust his guide, and doubt no more
That siren wailing in a silly, ka-thumping heart
03/22/2010 Posted on 03/22/2010
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by June Labyzon on 03/22/10 at 04:54 PM Love the last two lines in the second stanza....nice write...thanks |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/22/10 at 06:30 PM Too many great lines going on here, but I love the word play in that last stanza most of all. What a great read. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 03/22/10 at 07:18 PM I doubt that there are few men or women that have not gotten lost in love's fog and paid the price at least once. Maybe that is what is really required to say that one has lived. And you tell the tale so well. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/22/10 at 08:19 PM An excellent write- well crafted; thank you! |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 03/22/10 at 09:38 PM ...ken, i got scared at the beginnin and still am; we miss so much of every second. we barely recognize our self(ves)...a state fair funny-mirror thing, eh? well written epitaph. |
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