Requiem for a Fool

My bed is empty.

Empty like my heart,

like the pockets in my coat,

the ones with holes in them.

My house is empty, too.

There is no noise,

just the calcifying veins that

carry hollow ice cubes around

my empty body.

My head is empty.

I can not keep a thought there

before it flies away, unbidden,

stillborn before I see it,

buried in an unmarked grave.

My words are empty.

They have no meaning,

a politician’s words -

like the ‘sorry’ that follows a breakup,

they render me mute.

My life is empty.

Statistics on a resumé page,

lists of people known and places visited,

relationships broken and never healed.

I am empty.

And now I’d like to die.

Reviews

[Amy Craig Beasley]

I can really feel the hollowness ~ and yet there is an undercurrent here that surges with life - nice ~

[Bailey C. Writing]

The comparisons in this poem are excellent :)
This has much emotion, even though it talks about being empty. It was a poem that really spoke to me...I've felt like this before.
Well written, nice job here!

[Hotwater]

Sounds like you do with another visit from Cupid! Such a sorrowful write here, sometimes we wonder if it's all worth it.
*bird*

[Kho-San]

The slow pace of this poem really allowed me to take things in, churn them up, and understand them (somewhat.)
The words have a melancholy edge to them, which sinks in slowly, and stays there, forcing the reader to understand this feeling, it brings this kind of numbness (to me at least) with it, and I really quite liked that. The ending was really good too, how you followed up that emptiness the emptiest thing possible, which is a shell devoid of life, a body which doesn't breath, death.
A brilliant piece. This is the first piece of writing I've read by you, and am relatively impressed. Great work.

[Eagle Eye]

Empty is certainly the theme here, drawn out, perhaps a little too much, but that was the effect. I liked the ending, but didn't find all of it that original in honesty, which may be due to the theme or your handling of it. Some great metaphors, "just the calcifying veins that carry hollow ice cubes around my empty body.", some awkward and strained, "Statistics on a resumé page, lists of people known and places visited, relationships broken and never healed.". I also found the "can not" a little odd, as "cannot" is the. far more accepted form. It's quite good and I did like the title.

[Peony]

Alone and lost to whipping thoughts is something I can relate to. It’s in those times that clarity feathers to wishful thinking. Well written and expressive.

[Joel Junior]

theres still hope
ehhe nice poem

[Droll Prole]

This speaks of such loneliness, of a person worn out and tired of life. Great poetry.

[rose with love]

beautiful, very nice and smart penned!

[Joiedevivre]

Beautifully seamless the string you pull through, some really wonderful metaphors, in particular:
just the calcifying veins that

carry hollow ice cubes around

my empty body.