Linger Longer. A poem.
Why do I always linger longer in this place? Why do I capitulate to my black dog space? I throw the stick for him and he brings it back for me to beat myself again, so he can jump and … Continue reading Linger Longer. A poem.
Tag: Sadness
Deserted. A poem.
Deserted. Desert winds wax and wane around my anxious senses, tinged with the scent of the exotic, the lingering perfume of your passing. I track through the remnants of my wandering wastrel heart, amongst tumbleweeds of loss and regret, wondering … Continue reading Deserted. A poem.
My Black Walls. A poem.
My walls. Are. Black As oil and just as wet. Wet. … Continue reading My Black Walls. A poem.
Blister. 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.
Hollow Tree. 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.
Rancid. A poem.
All my rancid surprise, broken and doubtful, flayed thoughts drifting behind sullen and tired eyes. So many unspoken wishes given lonesome flight from these effluent cliffs of anger and despair; all the improbable, impossible angst, the seething pain that my … Continue reading Rancid. A poem.
Down again. A poem.
Down, again, and the anxious riptide in my brain wills and drags me to sullen depths, where the ocean bed is pock marked with tears and fears and ample insomniac nights. Down, again, and every fading couple in the street … Continue reading Down again. A poem.
Still Standing. A poem.
Still standing. Waiting. Where are you? When are you? Your bus is long, long overdue, but I will wait, anyway, wondering if my timetable is completely out of date. Hoping my ticket to ride is still valid, not expired. Still … Continue reading Still Standing. A poem.
Haiku Friday. ‘Judas’, a haiku trilogy.
Judas. A haiku trilogy. 1. Judas Please, don’t put your faith in a Judas such as he. He will always fail. 2. Wanting He betrays himself in every scattered thought and comes up wanting. 3. Better Better to find one … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Judas’, a haiku trilogy.
Finish Line. A poem.
Down again, in November showers that wash the sin from my crown. Out walking my black dog in the rain, skirting hills and wither deep. Just another day in here, Under my skin Under the hood Where the engine strains and groans as it drags my weary chassis to the finish line. Where I’m content to lose again, to choose again. And choose life this time. Even with its witless overtures and empty virtue, it holds the one thing that burns like fire and wakes me from my bitter sleep. Continue reading Finish Line. A poem.
All Because Of You. A poem.
That overbearing, all pervasive dark matter, the swollen river that floods my heart and breaks my banks, chokes my throat and pierces my brain stem, that sticks it’s bamboo needles under mental fingernails, creates tattered meat from perilous fortune, twists my will until my spine shatters like crystal and leaves me a pointless fool. All because of you. Continue reading All Because Of You. A poem.
Porcelain. A poem.
Porcelain, sheer and shining. Untouchable, lest you break. Cracks irreparable, iceberg deep. You/I are/am my/your porcelain. Continue reading Porcelain. A poem.
The Sadness. A poem.
The sadness creeps over, a ponderous behemoth, encompassing my lands and being. It seeps into my streams, polluting them with its murky ill-will, making a mockery and a mire. It kills off my grass and trees, turning my greens to blight, leaving animals once proud and determined now abject and homeless; caricature mascots. It crawls over my buildings, infesting every room and board, making inhabitants into castaways with the shore so near, so far. And everything collapses under the weight of its load, a gravity far too serious for this light head(ed) over heels, a Hercules turned weakling, bent knee … Continue reading The Sadness. A poem.
Fools’ Gold. A poem.
The road smouldered as steel-tread fingers ran over it, each car an indifferent lover. Nothing was out of the ordinary but the extraordinary. I could no longer look upon you, the pain too sharp, a constant thorn. My cannibal hypocrisy consumed me with self-deception. One last glance (you, the diamond amongst coal) and I drove away into the hazy mid-afternoon grey. That was the day. The day I let my muse fade. The day I turned from you, away. I realised dreams were mirrors and reflections, untouchable and jaded. I wanted tears, but an empty shell holds no water. No … Continue reading Fools’ Gold. A poem.
Coriolis. A short tale.
He stared at the mirror, at the composite he had become. It held a reflection capturing his bitterest Hyde and Jekyll moments. He placed his hand firmly on the vanity, turned on the tap and watched the water spiral down … Continue reading Coriolis. A short tale.
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