It's the feeling of the edge against the ***** of your feet,
Your center of gravity swinging, pendulum light
To and fro, causing quite the commotion
It's the idea of the fall that's most frightening;
The mental picture of anguish we conjure
So clearly it could be stamped on celluloid.
A sinking, really
The steep angle of a roller coaster;
The proverbial rug pulled out from under our feet
The architect of gift and curse
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 10:00 PM UTC
traitorous
how each face you turn
is another cheek for me
to meekly reach toward
an attraction to
rate of change
the first one was coy
it held me in its gaze
and built a house of straw
for me to crawl in
the second, more familiar
a me in you for me to see
and dive into head first
familiarity scratching at the scalp
the third, half smile and half frown
the kind of face that martyrs itself
on a crown of need, a list of to dos
that cause a summersault inside me
the fourth, set in glass
fixed, permanent, fragile
one misstep and it's bad luck
seven years of wandering
away from you
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
Sometimes you’d softly sing me to sleep
Songs that tend to make women weep
No nursery rhymes for this little boy
Just tales of women robbed of joy
No wonder I'm the same today
Morality tales of heart’s decay
The imprint on my earliest thoughts:
Love's not love, unless you feel caught
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
It's like the reality of falling leaves:
In autumn, people seek them out
Their perfected performance of death
A leap from ten stories in a party dress
The taffeta catching the up draft
No one gathers to see the aftermath
Of carnage covered by dirt and water
Taking beauty and churning it out
Brown sledge grunted up by the earth
Spit out, mangled, the marrow exposed
It's always the same
The crowds bottleneck, shove, push
To see the start, but at the end
Everyone is looking for an out
Such happiness for what follows hello, for
Everything that comes just before goodbye
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 1:23 PM UTC
When I left you
There was nothing left
For me to give
A slap on the ***
Feet firm on the ground
And that's all I had
No moon over Manhattan
No Bambi eyes on the prize
Just two hands, two feet
Ten fingers, ten toes
You'd think I'd at least
Have wrapped you
Bandana blue
Tied you to a post
And slung you over shoulder
See saw of gravitas
Instead I had empty pockets
Hole sewn into the hem
So that when money went in
It just fell out again
I think you're better off
Busking on the street
Earning pennies for thoughts
People will take pity
A gift that's more than
What I was given
But then again
What do I really know
I left my dignity behind
So long ago
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
It's exhausting
All this heat
It rises like the balloons
Full of *******
That promise satisfaction
Like a heavy meal
In your belly
The mercury is boiling over
Fumes that make the hatter
Mad and frustrated
Sad and depressed
Searching for a better tomorrow
But we know it's in jest
The court is full of sparks
Flashes in the pan
That leave you blinking
Unable to focus
Palms pressed to your eyes
Calling forth so many stars
Were struck dumb
Like fireflies in the summer air
They flicker in and out
And maybe if we cross our eyes
Just right, they can focus
Take away our doubt
And fill the glass half full
But this heat is relentless
A fever pitch that's begging for an end
No matter how full we want
Our glass to be, the drops will rise
Condensation clinging to the sides
A mist that relents and moves into the air
A collective sigh of defeat.
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 7:33 PM UTC
Your voice rises up like worms from the earth.
No matter how deep I bury it, it claws back out,
To think of its tenor brings me nothing but hurt.
Your voice rises up like worms from the earth;
To see its gaunt face, a fresh mound of doubt,
The day you left me you had no room for air.
Now it's me, who can't breathe, lungs filled with despair.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC
I may be underwater but
Maybe I'll adapt and sprout some gills.
It seems that natural selection
Has been pretty selective,
The stacks we dug long ago
Are spewing out their ash:
Burnt flesh built off the backs
Of those who can't blend in against
The chalk white trees.
Everyone knows prey comes so easily
For those whose camouflage
So seamlessly.
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC
The dawn is breaking
Bones on its back,
The opposite of odes,
A reversal of a truth
We thought we once knew,
Which we were taught was true.
We cannot feed this whole army.
Not on a diet of skin and bone,
Of ash clinging to the bronchioles
And bullets plucked like
Pomegranate seeds from our skin.
The perimeter insecure.
We **** Papa, maim Mama,
When we strike out the son,
And not so much
As a thank you m’am,
A tip of the hat towards
The floor where we
Kicked our own faces in.
We’re turning this wheel in a frenzy,
So much fury at the sound
Of a full revolution,
Whirling dervish
With time sewn in the hem
So we’re right back
where we started again.
And for what?
To pay a debt
So in the black
We bleed red to cover the ink,
And whitewash over the stain?
The cost is just too costly,
We've penny pinched the flesh
To make it count.
Our holocaust is never ending:
So many tears,
Yet still a drought.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
We only fear monsters in the dark;
it’s the surprise that really gets us.
When it’s light out,
it’s easier to accept them.
After all, they’re just reflection
of the wild hunters we once knew
who we’ve tamed into regression,
who now just feel neglected.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC