Category: K.G. Munro

The Thespian and The Fool

Unlikely friendship,
A sober man, and a drunkard,
Both of them young actors,
Living on the inheritance the fool has,
Applying for every job that comes; the thespian is wise whilst the fool denies what he perceives to be beneath him.


The thespian laughs at the sight,
Of his friend rambling,
The fool casts his finger upon the world in blame,
His failures are a result of the society, not the self
The thespian blames no one but works diligently,
Giving every part of himself to the performance
Both cordial, but the fool is jealous of his talented friend,
Drinking himself into squalor,
Violating Shakespeare's words of gold dust with his rancid tongue,
With that tonation, he belongs in the gutter not on the stage of a theatre
But, he cannot see that,
He is so lost in his arrogance
Reality is an insult to him.


The thespian lands a role, accepting it with gratitude and grace
Knowing how long it took to get this
As the fool moans about being offered a role as an understudy,
His talent should take the main stage, this is insulting to him,
That is the difference between the thespian and the fool,
The thespian knows his place and is willing to work for the success,
but the fool, does not, he believes he is entitled to it,
Just because he exists.


Bio: I am an author and poet. I have been published by Agape Review, Poetry Potion, Love Poetry amongst many others.  I also have a poetry book collection coming out in the summer called "Birds Of My Garden." 
Feel free to read my works on here: https://www.poetrypotion.com/?s=K.G.+Munro 

A Train To Myself

Each stop, another year has passed,
Wondering when I'll get off this train.

An old face gets off, a new one gets on,
Lessons I've learned like the commercials on the walls.

Another carriage, a different version of me,
The breaks are clattering, as I am walking.

The air smells like cherry blossoms,
My skin tingles as we pass into another season.

Snowflakes, icy tears my eyes have shed in the past,
Finding my seat, sitting in another carriage.

Looking through the window, there are red cottages in the snow,
I'm left wondering where home is.

Different men enter my carriage but none of them remain, 
Left numb like the leaves falling outside in the rain.

The seasons have changed, I've aged again,
There's only one more stop left.

The breaks screech, I'm the only passenger,
Doors open, I see myself standing there.



Bio: I am an author and poet. I have been published by Agape Review, Poetry Potion, Love Poetry amongst many others.  I also have a poetry book collection coming out in the summer called "Birds Of My Garden." 
Feel free to read my works on here: https://www.poetrypotion.com/?s=K.G.+Munro 

Red Ginseng - Nonce Poem

Seedling

Youth is like red ginseng, it tastes sweet but leaves a burning on your lips

Love is the same, the longer you keep it for the stronger it becomes

One must ferment in the turbulence of life to experience joy

Only then will the duality of a relationship make itself present

Then you can enjoy the rewards of patience, instead of stewing with resent.




Growing

Shoots bursting through like starlight dancing

Words connected as promises made

Waiting for the spring in loves season

Green purity, growing without reason.




Blooming

The fruit that blooms is vibrant and crimson

Hauntingly sweet with very little time

Each touch is splendid yet replenishing

Roots firm, and a bond is establishing.


Fading

Burning out like the old yellow Sun that touches the surface of our Earth

Red skin withers into a crumpled mass, its roots crippled with age and time

The love begins to fade as our bodies break beneath the hands of life

The flower dead, pulled are the remnants from the once fertile ground

Yesterday is over, like the red ginseng, it's still with no one around.

Bio: I am an author and poet. I have been published by Agape Review, Poetry Potion, Love Poetry amongst many others.  I also have a poetry book collection coming out in the summer called “Birds Of My Garden.” 

Feel free to read my works on here: https://www.poetrypotion.com/?s=K.G.+Munro

Waterville

Watershed moments come and go
Sometimes she wonders, if she’s losing hope
Her family are gone, and no one's holding on
A glass, and a lighter, are her home.


The aftermath of a childhood star, one that peaked so young
But, was burned when she wasn’t old enough–
–to understand how nasty power can be, the people around her were corrupt
No one to protect her from reality, now she sits burnt-out in an alley
A used to be, all of her friends sold themselves further out, and closer into obscurity
They are addicts too, but plastic smiles make ugly hearts appear to be pretty.


Her eyeliner smudged; a face hauntingly youthful yet lifeless
She doesn’t have a home, a dream, or a purpose
All of it was sucked out of her the moment she said no and not yes
She kept her soul but it got badly damaged
Drugs chase the nightmares away, just a little more pep, some more lidocaine
One day, the world will melt, her pain will whither
She’s a child again, not a prop to be used and admired. 

Bio: I am an author and poet. I have been published by Agape Review, Poetry Potion, Love Poetry amongst many others.  I also have a poetry book collection coming out in the summer called “Birds Of My Garden.” 

Feel free to read my works on here: https://www.poetrypotion.com/?s=K.G.+Munro