Not beaten or blighted, wracked with loss or pain, I stand before you in judgement, my purpose, as yet, undecided. You have my submission, having bowed to your requests, but not for reasons you suspect, or to prevent ongoing friction. … Continue reading Submission. A poem.
The meat is the thing A burger existence That never led to much I have tasted gristle And found it wanting Perhaps this time I will find the iron That will make the man And change the way I feel … Continue reading Wagyu heuristics. A poem.
Sometimes, I get lost in your whimsy and my elation at the thought of you leaves every lowbrow, thoughtless convolution, standing at the wayside, thumbing for a ride. I choose to leave them all behind, because I’ve found a better … Continue reading Whimsy. A poem.
I’ve been lost many times before Each time I wandered out your door Full of ample needs and wants, for sure Unaware of the trials I had, in store I was lost sometime, just like before Last time I thought … Continue reading Lost Before Last. A poem.
I trusted you to pay the bills, until I received those pointed calls; found them hidden, of course, in out of the way places, away from prying eyes and your surreptitious faces. I listened to the constant stream Of lies … Continue reading Trust-less Daze (Gambling Daze, part 4). A poem.
She liked responsibility— it gave her credibility, a way to cover erstwhile tracks, unpaid bills and missing goods; her lies falling on naive ears, infallible fallibility. The pawnshop, her best friend (other than the pokies, that is), until she learned … Continue reading Truth-less Daze (Gambling Daze, part 3). A poem.
I remember carrying my son Two months old and sleeping Into wayward pubs and clubs In search of a wayward mother Bewitched by poker machines And the scent of an easy win. I remember the humiliation Of asking doormen and … Continue reading Wayward Daze (Gambling Daze, part 2). A poem.
She played the pokies in her day, her singular gaze unflinching and intractably admiring. The stars and bells, her friends; a gentle, constant riot of affection and affectation, pleading to stay and coaxing her with opium overtures of digitised ecstasy. … Continue reading Poker Machine Daze (Gambling Daze, part 1). A poem.
You sneak into my world past locks, alarms, sigils, wards down corridors of fatalistic compromise through rooms of idealistic circumspection and find me waiting earnestly wanting, more or less what you want no need to be so stealthy For more of … Continue reading Stealthy. A poem.
Transfixed by you, statuesque in the hurricane, riding tempestuous slipstream currents— a goddess of hail and happenstance. You’re a lightning rod, attracting joules and fools like me, incontrovertibly shattering stratospheric records like a pheromone cyclone. After your storm has passed, … Continue reading Hurricane Heart. A poem.
I’m spiralling again: an anxious emptiness, a long bitter refrain, that repeats over and over and over and over and over in my angry, lonely brain. Old friend, you’ve never let me go, though you always let me down/ bring … Continue reading Old Friend. A poem.
I avoid you when I see you, now. Not ships passing in the night but rather garbage scows, no more trashy encounters or the like. No potential head-ons or man overboard, now endlesss drunken shanties to help me smile While … Continue reading Avoidance. A poem.
Of this lingering half-life, only the iceberg tip exposed. Beware what lies beneath: cut glass, mirrored edges and radical toxicity. Splinters and elements better left submerged; its palpitating heart, decaying in the half-light. For more of my poetry, check out … Continue reading Half-Life/Half-Light. poem.
via Save the Poet! Like my poetry? For poems you haven’t seen before, try The All or the Nothing, my first book. It’s available now, in print and e-book formats. Click on the link above to find out how to … Continue reading Save the Poet!
Too plain, too pretty Too full, too empty. Too big, too small. Too short, too tall. Too rich, too poor. Too fine, too sore. A constant interchange of histrionic and catatonic, a test and trial of long-held resentment. Find a … Continue reading Discontentment. A poem.
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