The Unredeemed

Not in the whispering groves of academe

could I find myself a shade,

Nor in the pastoral setting of a song

could I sleep heedless in the glade;


Not the crack of willow thrashing leather

on the green, was music sweet,

Nor exhilarating, sweaty play with friends

in the laughing indulgent heat;


Nor later, the professional hustle and worry

was enough to kill the mind,

Nor the power of life and the game of death

much more than a daily grind.


And ever in all my thoughts and deeds

and even in the seagull’s cries,

Remained the memory of your treachery,

And of the contempt in your eyes.

I have always been a great believer. I've flitted from one belief to another, from religion to atheism and from one philosophy to another, until I finally settled on J. Krishnamurti whose philosophy is that there is no philosophy. So now I firmly believe that there is nothing to believe. Now such a belief would, I believe, have been considered dangerous to society if the authorities had believed me to be of any consequence. No man of consequence they believe would waste his time on the pursuit of blogging!

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12 comments on “The Unredeemed
  1. Hey that’s good. It remind me of Kipling.

  2. nursemyra says:

    how long ago did this happen….?

  3. Lynn says:

    beautiful poem and an awesome image to boot! about this line though “exhilarating, sweaty play with friends”….i didnt know you had a sexy monday too!🙂

  4. Terri says:

    Doc looks like you are a poet as well….I enjoyed your writing alot!”-)

  5. whatsinaname says:

    Beautiful poem and the pic. Where was this taken? Or is it thanks to Google?😀

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