Green. A poem.
The green envelops me And I float And rise And sink On this green tide The green consumes me As I taste And toil And vomit This green inside The green greets me And seduces me And I As with … Continue reading Green. A poem.
Tag: Anxiety
Shake. A poem.
What slumber is this? How far deep in waking dreams Did this course of action Decide progress beyond Frank anticipation? Shudder under a veil Of night as black as pitch That sinks thought As dark as tar and deep Into … Continue reading Shake. A poem.
Righteous. A Haiku.
You are so righteous, So much ‘holier than thou’— Get in line, baby For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available … Continue reading Righteous. A Haiku.
I Tried. A poem.
I tried to make you happy And not to bring you down But again I failed so inevitably Thorny crown upon my brow I tried to make you happy But perhaps the stage was set For another lonely scene of … Continue reading I Tried. A poem.
Sh&t Show. A poem.
This sh&t show never ends I would change the channel But the remote’s on the fritz And there’s nothing else Worthwhile on anyway And even if there was I’m too apathetic to care And too down to get up today … Continue reading Sh&t Show. A poem.
Currents and Whirlpools. A poem.
Somewhere along the way I lost sight of yesterday Drifting on currents and whirlpools Threatening to take me Down to places I’d rather not be And so I fell as deeply as one could As far down as one never … Continue reading Currents and Whirlpools. A poem.
Blameless. A haiku.
How blameless you are, forever blaming others— mirror without truth. For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or … Continue reading Blameless. A haiku.
So. A stream of consciousness poem.
So. So so so. So, a lot of people seem to have an issue with uncertainty. About where they are headed, about the meaning of life. You know. The big questions. I’m one of those. Sometimes. So. So, I know … Continue reading So. A stream of consciousness poem.
Briars and Thorns. A poem.
All these briars and thorns— Sticking and slicing, Pricking and enticing— Patterning my body And reflecting my somber discontent. Marking a trail upon this empty flesh— A patina of scar tissue, A fleshy, vertiginous map— To guide me like a … Continue reading Briars and Thorns. A poem.
Drowning Not Waving. A poem.
It’s so easy to wave And then slide below And let the tide take me Wherever we’ll go Waving not drowning Just a puppet on show Drowning not waving Behind a curtain of woe For more Poetry, click here. For … Continue reading Drowning Not Waving. A poem.
Here. A haiku.
You long for purpose, Searching far for fulfilment, When it’s right here, now. For more Poetry, click here. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available … Continue reading Here. A haiku.
Blame. A poem.
I took the blame For it was my lot To stumble and toil And make my weary way Back to life From whence I was cast Aside But blame should be Apportioned Fairly and to each For blame lies not … Continue reading Blame. A poem.
Murder of Crows. A poem.
A tendency to exaggerate. Variable and inconsistent, A migratory bird, unaware Which hemisphere is up Or what time of year it is. A mountain and a molehill, Keynotes of your dependency. Furtive and insecure And longing for approval; All wayward … Continue reading Murder of Crows. A poem.
Paramour. A poem.
These metaphors, So sorely overused, Are now circumspect And reeking of apathy. I long to find Such cunning words That would spin Symphonies of ardency. This paramour, In evidence alone, Has proven they Can break your heart so many times, … Continue reading Paramour. A poem.
Practice Makes Perfect. A poem.
I reach And yet Everything Is so Far away Unknowable My fingertips Brush The surface Of something I cannot Grasp No matter How hard I try But that Won’t stop Me from Persevering Because Practice Makes Perfect For more Poetry, … Continue reading Practice Makes Perfect. A poem.
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