New October Poetry--feel free to comment

An Asylum of My Own Making

My thoughts reside in a padded cell
illuminating days of regret
in the contemplative light
of my self-pity

If there will be introspection
I would have to turn off
the inner man
who accepts no blame

On a self-aware day
I seek counsel
but measured reason
gets lost in the corridors

Words of advice or comfort
become discordant notes
waking me in the night
from their clatter in the hall

Will I seek asylum
regaining empathy and recognition
for those who care
whether I live or die

Or will I be committed
to the asylum
where my mind sets on
chasing departed hopes

Gordon Stamper, Jr.
October 7, 2017

Feathers

I found a stack of feathers
in the corner of the yard
a mix of white down
and brown quills

The wind tickled the plumes
and gauzy travelers
went adrift in
the autumnal breeze

A pile of art
so aesthetically pleasing
born of unknown violence
lurking in the meadow or
the society of tall trees

Gordon Stamper, Jr.
October 21, 2017