Winter wanted one last bite of the red, red cherry, and so it returned with steely vengeance, to strike with icy blades that shimmied through my skin and took root within my veins. The frost dusting the lawn was a … Continue reading The Winter of Our World. A poem.
I shrink before your bitter ire that holds me in its angry grip. Where gentle touch consumed me, prior, now smothers this apprenticeship. For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at … Continue reading Grip. A poem.
Head down Black entrails entwined Around my throat Choking the life And whispering Sweet nothings Of mindless contempt The residue of years Of churning anger The spittle of malice And undisputed loathing Clawing its way Up from within Until it’s … Continue reading Sweet Nothings. A poem.
One Foot In Front Of the other Every day Step Forward Trying Not To step back Every day I Move A Little Further Forward Every day I move a little further To where I need to be One Step Closer … Continue reading Step. A poem.
My aching thoughts and fretful angst that often lead astray, that wander in the ceding light, whose shadows form my way. The consequences of my time, misled misgivings here, they form a crazy, tangled skein, the symptoms of my fears. … Continue reading Shadow Tales. A poem.
Succinct and retrospect, mercury lines connecting dots, snaking and entwined, ‘tween valleys and hills, pooling at the feet: drowned confetti dreams. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this … Continue reading Tears. A poem.
The moon waxes and wanes, in afterthoughts of the bitter-sweet variety. My wanderings have brought me closer to an undistinguished end, and yet still I cling to the filaments of monopolised undertakings. Moonlight fill my spirit, build it up in … Continue reading Moon Thoughts. A poem.
Indecision rules in every fool, the uninspired and undecided. Confusion reigns and fear sustains the paltry and the parodied. Mark this day, make your way from the aimless and objectionable. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, … Continue reading Make Your Way. A poem.
And as I slowly died inside within the canny matrices of my mind, I came to understand it all everything I’d ever been done and seen, as if every strand was a flower bud opening for the first time. And … Continue reading Died Inside. A poem.
Nostalgia On my mind A keepsake Turn it over In my hands A snow globe Filled with memory And the dust Of fickle years And absent foes Now long forgotten But present still I write a lot of poems, some … Continue reading Nostalgia. A poem.
Why concern yourself with where you walk? I am just a reed beneath your heel cracking until broken, outlined in your footprint. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on … Continue reading Heel. A poem.
My/Your Greatest Fear Is That If You/I Really Knew Me/you You/I Wouldn’t Want To Know Me/You I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my … Continue reading Dual. A poem.
And now every time I pass by you, I remember when you were my muse. My inspiration, a living rhyme to hang my aching heart, in time. (I could and did, ‘til I was blue, … Continue reading Vagrant Heart. A poem.
My hurt My tears … Continue reading Surburbia. A poem.
There’s no rain, but the wind blows and buffets and billows, like an intransigent wolf at my door. Cocooned in my chair and cold sweeps and seeps through joints, a lubricant of low viscosity oil. The fire inside is only … Continue reading Shade. A poem.
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