Poems

THe following are all poems by Andrew Moravick (Me)
Immortality

If think me dead perchance I die,
Than me you kill with watery eye.
Though this vessel descend to decay,
That which I am forever will stay
Alive with you and those with whom my life I’ve shared,
Eternally intertwined our fates forge on powerfully paired.
When my living words were welcomed to your ear,
Why when words still echo my absence you fear?
For here I am on page at present and in future found,
Whether my body still lives or lies still in the ground.
Though Time toils to test the strength of our will
To exist and persist though with us the earth he fill.
My body like all others will change and deform,
But why when gone must my body be mourned?
Death has no claim on page to me our my essence,
And so with words I make perpetual my presence.
I am immortal as long as others can read
The story of my soul and how it was freed.

Aspiration

Hauntingly hanging over my heavy head,
Aspiration an apparition I devoutly dread.
It chills and fills my soul with despair,
Biting and burning with its burdensome stare.
Painfully possessed through life I progress,
Current comforts canceled and satisfaction suppressed.
Eternal infernal spirit, what do you desire,
That require you pester and plague me in furious fire?
Why may I not find comfort in accomplishment common,
Forever fearing failure as yet I’ve not fallen?
To what lofty heights however high must I strive
To quench aspiration so that joy in me may thrive?

Sleep

My eyes are heavy and my body is slow,
Her control of me will never go,
My eyes close n’ asleep I fall,
Obediently answering her alluring call,
Now I am hers- the devoted slave,
Serving her after death n’ the grave,
Every day I try to break free,
Yet every night hers I’ll be,
Strong as I am I can’t fight back,
The more strength I use the more strength I lack,
So I submit to her sweet soft kiss,
Silencing senses and bestowing me bliss,
My eyes are shut and hers I become,
All pain is gone and my body is numb,
Silently I slumber- serving her desire,
I am her product and she my buyer,
Then I awake, thinking I’m free,
To go through the day and see what’ll be,
Then slowly she comes to reclaim her slave,
And then once again it’s her kiss I will crave,
Day after day I try to resist,
Till the last day that I am finally kissed,
Then I am hers- forever a slave,
Silently serving, asleep in my grave.

Sonnets

Should not for sublime climbs I strive?
Would wanting my words to have weight weigh on me woe?
Need I no more knowledge to know?
Does diligence and distinction of joy deprive?
Why then may mediocrity molest my mind?
Why find I agony in acts average and mundane?
Why suffer I such pain at present undefined,
Which wrenches my soul and becomes my being’s bane?
What can one do when all his essence thirsts
For fame found in works wondrous n profound,
Which forth from the prison of anonymity bursts,
So that forever echoing my name may resound?
Why worry I when still fresh is life’s lasting breath,
What will speak for me when I’m silenced by death?


Love Sonnet in Advance

When alone, uninspired, unable to create,
Her hands on my back descend to soothe,
Ridding the blockage all authors hate,
And my mind is inspired as is my pen to move.
When complacent and in satisfaction I cease,
She, knowing me ever critical will be,
And urge me to re-analyze my piece
So that all I put forth is the best of me.
When in lust my mind is held captive,
She comes to me, knowing my need,
And to me all her love she will give,
So in our passion my mind is freed.
And yet though not yet her name do I know,
In advance I write so love forever may show.

God, why when faith I almost acquire,
Fate intervenes causing me to question
Again, and with further self reflection,
Once more gone is the faith I desire?
Why when so wanting I am to believe,
When so willing and obedient I try
To think not that to me my senses lie
So that me your being does not deceive?
God, am I not what you craved in creation,
For you want not love blindly obedient,
Love learned at length not most expedient,
Wanting to obey by will instead of dictation?
So why supply me with such an unquenchable mind,
That deny me the means with which you I may find?