I wander often

Through landscapes confined

To the solitary internal

Space,

I wear many faces,

Many names, I am

Many and one all at once,

Exploring landscapes

That are both

As I see

And as create,

But I forgot somewhere

How to lose myself

Completely in them, and weave

The stories they have

To tell, small twinkling

Stars set amongst a

Vast galaxy

Of

possibility.

Advertisements

And so the

Beat drops,

Cascades into a near

Infinite silence, a

Wave of deafening

Nothingness engulfs what

Could have

Been.

Sadness Rests

A heavy weight on

The empty tin

Of my chest,

Crushing it inward,

Pressed in folded metal against

The hollow bones

Of my rib

Cage,

Cracking and breaking.

Each breath a ragged effort,

But it

Will pass.

Do Not

Wake me from cold slumber

And then turn

Me away,

Only to act as if

My words still

Will grace your

Ears, or

My attentions will not turn inward

Again, sliding

Back beneath the earth.

It amuses me

How men consider

Womens attentions

Flighty,

When there own come

With the rising sun

And pass in the

Same day,

A ghost of affection

Come and then

Whisked

Away on bitter

Winds.

Depression

Leaves you empty, broken,

Each step you take along

A dark spiral,

You lose pieces of

Who you were,

What

You loved.

Now I am digging those pieces

Back from the dust, crawling

Back up the steep spiral

And reclaiming who

I was once,

And with each piece

I glue back into

Who I am,

I remember dreams

Lost,

And I reclaim the

Inner worlds that run

Along the endless

Bounds of my

Imagination.

Men

Are snakes,

With forked tongues

That drip

Honeyed venom,

Pirates with smiles

In place

Of swords,

Sweet words until

They have taken what

They need, and

Give nothing

In return

But pain and emptiness,

A void where a

Sweet voice was.

Build the Walls

Higher,

Higher,

Brick by

Concrete brick,

Seal them in place

Around a worn

And weary

Golden heart,

Scratched and tarnished,

Darkened with each blow, dented and

Now hidden,

Only a dim glow through

Spiderwebs of cracks in

Fresh stone.

Work Song

Step

Step,

Greet, smile no

Matter how weary

Or worn,

Drinks,

Bread,

Order,

Sidework,

Sauces,

Food,

Steps and

Steps, miles

And miles over the

Same worn

Wooden

Floor.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑