Joe Mykut

I am a newly published poet and author of the book, Cosmic Poetry From Darkness Comes Light. I write from the perspective of a broken and mended mind. My approach is to find the light and dark in all things and then the beauty in the balance of those energies. I pull my inspiration from my personal and daily experiences. I hope to connect with people from all walks of life by way of the source that connects every single one of us in existence. My poetry can range from abstract and based in the beautiful things of life to diving deep into the depths of darkness finding the pain and beauty there as well.

Last Seen Shadow

Goodbye, seer of shadows.
Today, a team of roaming canines sent you to the gallows.
You shall never see a shadow again for the sake of an extended winter. Death has come for you in the dead of it.

Like a thorn to a rose, it was to your life, a splinter.
The seasons shall not call on you for their prediction. Summer, will no longer arrive awaiting your permission.

I stayed with you while you gasped your last breath. It appears I would be the last of your shadowy visitors. My presence was much like that of death’s inquisitor.

I arrived to revive, but found you unable to stay alive.
So, at the frost bitten frozen river side, I sent you away with the tide.

The place of the final stand and cycle escaped,
a bed of soil was not possible to complete. Instead, I sailed you down river under the falling sleet.

The Tale of a Whale’s Tail

A whale of a tale, does this tail of a whale tell. 
Washed upon the shore, and petrified by time so well.

Once, the largest and most docile of all the ocean’s swimmers. 
Now, a land dweller, sitting dead on a sandy seat,
and in the dead of the heat, it simmers.

Maybe Moby, Monstro or Willy,
but no matter the name, 
here the remains of its matter, remain all the same.

A beast lay here, as marked by its bones,
wearing the skin of wood.
Staking claim to the fact, 
that from the depths of the abyss, 
a monster here stood.

Beached from its watery home,
no longer will it roam, freely beneath the sea foam.
It’s come to rest, in a place that’s best for rest, 
upon the shoreline of a beach,
no longer within the tide’s reach.

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