Hand. A poem.
Hand in mine, you lead me far from dark entwined. For certain death does this … Continue reading Hand. A poem.
Category: Mental Health
Father. A poem.
I remember my father, as he is now and then, anchored to that fading chair with fading hairline and fading eyes, the absence of smoke from unfiltered cigarettes, not so heavy in the air. Less the cough from tar-filled lungs … Continue reading Father. A poem.
Tangent. A poem.
I’m off on a tangent, tangentially related to this relationship that doesn’t exist but continually insists betwixt was and is and not that it could and should and would be something worth waiting for, despite the frustration and inevitable fall, … Continue reading Tangent. A poem.
Inconsequence. A poem.
Spectacularly inconsequential, a life subsumed in lack of meaning and purpose. A breeze blows through and every tinder brush and tumble weed seems like it’s heaven sent. The All or the Nothing is my first e-book of poetry. To … Continue reading Inconsequence. A poem.
Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Trepidation. A haiku. My trepidation lingers like dirty feet on too-clean front door mats. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable structure. But you knew that already. Cheers Steve 🙂 The All or the Nothing is … Continue reading Haiku Friday. A lone haiku.
Emptiness. A poem.
Empty like the bottomless glass, the view from here so circumspect. Empty like the void above, between star shells and light effects. Empty like the cheerless heart, opened upon a mortuary slab. Empty like a suicide vein, eyes open wide … Continue reading Emptiness. A poem.
Anxious Thoughts. A poem.
Sweat on brow, an incessant reminder. Heat that censures from deep within, the cloying depths of double-shotted anxiety. Wait, breathe, wait, all analgesic flutter. Harder to escape, these walls abound and heighten further with every calamitous thought. Relax, they say, … Continue reading Anxious Thoughts. A poem.
Unknown. A poem.
She does not and will never know me. She will never read between my lines. She will never walk the halls of my history. She will never cry a tear for me. But I have known her. In the briefest … Continue reading Unknown. A poem.
The Night. A poem.
The night is not my friend. I lie here, encapsulated and encumbered in darkness’ vice-like grip. The night is not my friend. I lie awake, turning and tossing, trying to escape my funereal thoughts. The night is not my friend. … Continue reading The Night. A poem.
Stray Thoughts. A poem.
Stray thoughts, like alley cats, prowling amongst the refuse and detritus of my memories. Sally forth the dogs of war, to clear these backwaters and scare away this pain. Until stray thoughts wander back to sully my streets again. The … Continue reading Stray Thoughts. A poem.
Haiku Friday. ‘Isolated’, a haiku trilogy.
Isolated – a haiku trilogy 1. Veil If only I could take away the coal-black veil encompassing me. 2. Crown My only constant: crown of thorns, heavy on my lonely, empty heart. 3. Walls Do you hear me cry? Perhaps … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Isolated’, a haiku trilogy.
Brief. A poem.
The briefest of moments to us, passed between, and I was, for the briefest time, momentarily happy. I crave the briefest moment to spend with you again. For in that fragile moment, I am, forever, briefly sane. The All or … Continue reading Brief. A poem.
Rectified. A poem.
I wish that I could rectify all my copious sins and lies. I wish I could rebuild the trust I stole from you with prurient lust. I wish I could remove the stain upon my family’s blessed name. I wish … Continue reading Rectified. A poem.
Chasm. A poem.
I stared into the chasm and it stared right back at me. My cries echoed off its pithy walls until I nestled silently in its precipitous embrace. The chasm walls engulfed me; the sky above sequestered and aloof. The comforting, … Continue reading Chasm. A poem.
Would. A poem.
Would you shed a tear for me when I’m gone or about to go? Would you wave as I depart, smile awhile, wander alone? Would you care if I passed away from this world, from this fray? Would you be … Continue reading Would. A poem.
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