My Manner of Muse

My manner of muse
(rampant in the soul)
is cancer and medication,
my blessing and my curse.
I stand starved for affection,
a rose ripped of its petals,
having only bleeding thorns
dipped in tree toad toxin.
Do I poison you all?

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

The Beautifully Brutal

I have no pretty paintings
of flowery poetic expression
to delight the senses,
or panoramic vistas
wrought in iambic pentameter
to lighten the human heart.
I emerge from shadows
as a Phantom masked in red,
revealing the dark and despair,
of a world seen
through obsidian eyes.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

My World Gone Small

My world gone small,
shadows heavy
gather upon my brow,
this darkness inside me
growing growing growing,
as does the distance
from fellow reflectors of Light.
A cry for help in poetic form,
nary a hand to help me,
thus
I drown
I drown
James E. Roethlein copyright 2020

Tears as Winter Rain

Tears as winter rain,
freezing the fire
of autumn anger,
and so you choose
to never cry again.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2020

She Was His Ever Forever

She was his ever forever,
beauty bound in human form,
ocean tide and summer storm
sun kissed beneath blue skies.
Arm in arm clinging to each other,
to endure and to conquer
the mountains and valleys
they travel over and thru together.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2020

Your Silence Has Been

Your silence has been
a cancer on my heart,
removing you has been
an emotional mastectomy.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2020

Love in whispers,
silent to me,
though she is there
on the other side of this wall.

Longing's lament takes shape
and leaves, no longer welcome.

He Touches Her Gently

He touches her gently,
lifting her chin
that they may lock eyes
and stare into
each other’s eternity.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2020