Empty out these cold, hard facts Pour them in a bowl to inspect The entrails, mysteries unsolved By the clueless and the klutzes Cold, hard facts and nothing else But a ringing that won’t leave Your heart and ears, a … Continue reading Cold, Hard Facts. A poem.
A perilous montage Belies the truth A potent mix that Soaks in waters Where icebergs And submersibles Hide bittersweet Goodbyes A dangerous place Windswept with lies A potent reminder That all is not As it was or could be An … Continue reading Ice Cold. 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I stopped to think and thought Perhaps I shouldn’t do so Perhaps I should just stand and rise Above all the crap I’m floating in All the muck and detritus I’ve let gather around me All these years and tears … Continue reading Switch. A poem.
Your fragile ego, shattered in many pieces. Can it be remade? 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 … Continue reading Shattered. A haiku.
The wait is over And although you were active All along Spewing literary concerns Like jaded opinions And late afternoon enfilades The time has come For release From this future tense To revel in the irony That what kept you … Continue reading The Wait is Over. A poem.
Attitudes entrenched by years of disbelief, tears and fears. Shaken, abused and confused; broken, taken and refused, again and again, until there’s nothing left but regret and emptiness. An anger that shakes these foundations of resentment, these skyscrapers of doubt. … Continue reading The Whole Shebang. A poem.
Saw you again the other day, ring on finger, centre stage. I smiled, a little whimsically, through sad and bitter memories. I looked back amongst the bric-a-brac, how we laughed and walked, and fought like that. And played and talked … Continue reading Centre Stage. A poem.
My arms like tree limbs, gnarled and objectified. Here in the last remaining light, reaching for an unreachable sign by the side of a road, long and bitterly loathed. My feet encased in clay, entrenched along with attitudes I left … Continue reading Well Spent. A poem.
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