She was a rose in thorns abound, As cliched, it seems, as that may sound, Who grew from seeds of bitterness And contempt for those she kept around. She mastered the art of formless thought, Of tactless speech and schisms … Continue reading The Rose Garden. A poem.
Cranky at the portents: The breeze, it smells of winter, Even though the summer Has settled in Like a squatter, rent-free, Taking advantage Of your misdemeanours. Have your eyes aged With the rest? Or are you seeing as you did … Continue reading Aged. A poem.
Why the sadness, the music tugging at heartstrings in pizzicato fashion, stretching my angst beyond reproach? Why the darkness, flowing in a syrup-like tsunami, to swallow my horizons and the shoulder I’ve hung my head upon? This rhythm and rhyme … Continue reading The Music in Me. A poem.
I thought that you would let me be But here you come, rapaciously Slicing me up from inside out Filling my head with irksome doubt Your inky fingers in my dreams Painting landscapes and charcoal scenes A bottomless parade of … Continue reading My Depression. A poem.
The divide that’s grown between has widened over time— the subtle, well-toiled furrow, now a rift, of deep decline. When did this passionate divide become more like a gulf? And when did our discussions become a chore, less worthy of? … Continue reading The Divide. 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.
You who remain absent Don’t celebrate your hypocrisy Sliding on a sheen of contrariness Recognise the source of their upheaval You think time will make a fool of all But it seems your veneer is wearing thin And justice awaits … Continue reading Absent. A poem.
I don’t know why I fell for this— it was obvious you were oblivious, and my dreams were cloaked in pointlessness. I don’t know why you caught my eye, why I invested all my precious time creating a melodious portfolio, … Continue reading Fell For You. A poem.
Have I forgotten who I am? Not when every turgid thought drags the ocean bottom, the silt clouding my mind with all the pain I wrought. Not when my perpetual aching heart is torn in two with every memory of … Continue reading Unforgiven. A poem.
My aching thoughts and fretful angst that often lead astray, that wander in the ceding light, whose shadows form my way. The consequences of my time, misled misgivings here, they form a crazy, tangled skein, the symptoms of my fears. … Continue reading Shadow Tales. A poem.
Succinct and retrospect, mercury lines connecting dots, snaking and entwined, ‘tween valleys and hills, pooling at the feet: drowned confetti dreams. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this … Continue reading Tears. A poem.
And as I slowly died inside within the canny matrices of my mind, I came to understand it all everything I’d ever been done and seen, as if every strand was a flower bud opening for the first time. And … Continue reading Died Inside. A poem.
Why concern yourself with where you walk? I am just a reed beneath your heel cracking until broken, outlined in your footprint. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on … Continue reading Heel. A poem.
My hurt My tears … Continue reading Surburbia. A poem.
There’s no rain, but the wind blows and buffets and billows, like an intransigent wolf at my door. Cocooned in my chair and cold sweeps and seeps through joints, a lubricant of low viscosity oil. The fire inside is only … Continue reading Shade. A poem.
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