Salt-filled streams in cotton valleys, stuttered remnants of hazy fantasia. Every shed raindrop that stains this silky, cloud-like tundra, is just another overture to redeem my lonesome, enervated soul; another blatant and monotonous attempt at constructing a beatitude of nearsighted … Continue reading Beatitude. A poem.
Why is it every TV show I watch reminds me of what I want, the desirous and palatable fuel that I need from you? Every heartfelt admission of love unrequited that looms heavy and untold in my vision, every sideways … Continue reading Unrequited TV Love. A poem.
I often ideate about endless sleep, when the lights are dim, and my thoughts are deep. I sought it once, but I screwed it up (if I wait forty years, I’ll get what I want). My new long term goal: … Continue reading New Goal. A poem.
The outer skin chafes like the cajoling blister on my consoling heart. Only those who look deep can perceive the anxious, pitiful, exhausted souls that have walked so many miles in this inclement weather. My first book of poetry, The … Continue reading Blister. A poem.
I’m just a hollow tree on less than hallowed ground. My sap is drained and pain, profound. Within this forest, where my … Continue reading Hollow Tree. A poem.
Why do we hurt each other so? Why do we tear at our bones like brutal, savage, starving DOGS (begging and braying for blood) until all the meat and gristle is torn away and our ivory husks GLISTEN with the … Continue reading Feast. A poem.
My head is spinning, lost in your days/daze. Your whirlpool pulls me down. I clamber for extant purchase, a drowning man on your razor edge, gormlessly clutching at eidetic straws as water chokes my lungs. Your centrifugal force, it wears … Continue reading Whirlpool. A poem.
My love is Icarus, screaming on molten wings, searing clouds with body heat; an elevator ride straight down to my beckoning crypt. The ground is a winsome friend, cajoling me as I approach. The flames are streamers as I hit … Continue reading Icarus. A poem.
When I’m walking the dog around town (not my own black dog*, mind you, although he is always with me), I often pass by monuments that look pretty cool. Naturally, I want to take a picture of them. Here are … Continue reading Upstart Photographer #6 – Dogs and Monuments
The loving and the longing soaked into heart and soul. Sponges wrung at a moment’s notice, all captured in a bucket and mopped across the entirety of my empty little world. Here loving words are written on lonely pages in … Continue reading Longing. A poem.
When the bone wails in time to my beating, breaking heart, and the blood curdles along with my myopic tears. I will reach for thee and mark my emboldened flesh in your honour. I will scour my skin indelicately so … Continue reading Cut. A poem.
No longer angry, now the sum of abject humiliation and shame. I stand before you in mute testimony; judgement rests upon me, a crow upon a broken scarecrow. All I can do is drink in this desolate ambiance, and lower … Continue reading Judgement. A poem.
I’m waiting at the Legal Aid office to get some advice about my upcoming property settlement. Needless to say it’s a dull experience, punctuated by the typing on my iPhone, the shuffle of papers, the muffled choke of a straining … Continue reading Waiting, wanting, waning.
Would that I could rend this universe asunder to bring you that much closer to me. So near our timid outstretched fingertips could touch, so near we could taste each other’s stuttering exhaled breath and our carbon dioxide could mingle … Continue reading In Between. A poem.
I am ALIVE. I see all that is and was, every incongruous and congruous method and selection, tied and untied from destiny’s disaffected strings. I am ALIVE. I have dwelled in the shadow of death’s supple embrace, where carbon monoxide … Continue reading Alive. A poem.
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