It's the enervated hold
Which is the first to fold
A hand of jokers
And deuces
Sold to you as gold
One tries to will it true
This hand of gold anew
The power of will
Tides one through
Yet doubts unspoken grew
And grows the unsure strong
Leaps and bounds along
But one keeps it down
Looks away
Being strong is not to long
One does oft wonder though
How one got to be so
When the truth escapes
Through tiny holes
While Joker lies aglow
So one hopes that one can hold
This designated mould
Truth be dammed
Just look away
One's right is not to fold
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 10:42 PM UTC
He struts down the sidewalk
With a hint of a frown
His spoon swings beside him
Jaunty hat as his crown.
Childers peep with a gasp
As they watch him strut down
The musk that follows him
The stains on his gown.
There he goes, they whisper,
As the sun settles down
The Badass Chef, they say,
Of this Badass Town.
He pounds dough to a pulp
Whisking eggs beyond shape
Beets up on the salad
Stomping vatfulls of grape.
Skewers meat without thought
Chops neat through a bone
Flays sharks without care
Needs no sous, works alone
The Badass Chef
Of this Badass Town.
He hangs up his cleaver
At the end of the day
Dripping droplets of what
None have courage to say
He blows out his flambe
Spoon back at his side
Turns back to his war zone
Fists clenched with quiet pride
There he goes, they whisper,
As the sun settles down
The Badass Chef
Of this Badass Town.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
I lie not awake
Yet unasleep
In those moments
Caught between
I think I see
But you see not
The Life that could
Have been.
The moon eclipsed
The flag half mast
The wick not
Yet aglow
All the beauty
At but half full
Accepted as enough.
It must be true
That one accept
The half as near
The whole.
For it does not help
To seek the truth,
It undoes
The beauty known.
Thus die the dreams untold.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 8:25 AM UTC
Lashes the twister, belts around
Twirls and dances, thrashes the ground
Roots and foundations, tossed amuck
Both mighty and meek, rendered unstuck
Frenzy of flight through hurricane skies
Through chaos born transient ties
Each whirl of wind brings falling debris
Both drip and thump land fleetingly
But
The Eye sits, in the thick of the storm
Untouched unplussed, the formless form
Watching the gale through translucent lid
It lives without, while sitting amid
I am the Eye
That never does cry
Knowing all that is seen
Is a bewitching lie.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
The hollow core
Hollowed out some more
By hollow thoughts of a
Hollow mind
A hollow being, a hollow find.
The hollow well
Donns a hollow shell
Wrapped in hollow garb with
Hollow walls
A hollow being, a hollow fall.
The hollow life
Lives through hollow strife
Hoarding close hollow joys
This hollow whole
A hollow being, with hollow goals.
All that's deployed
Pours into the void
Of this hollowed out life
Hollow fills
A heavy soul, sits heavier still.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
Shimmers molten road
Still air squats, beads, on my brow
Summer road trip woes.
Seat turns to quick sand
Thighs stuck fast can move no more
Summer road trip woes.
Each breath sighs, heavy
Vapoured water chokes the air
Summer road trip woes.
No soul seen for miles
Gauge collapses on empty
Woeful road trip end.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:35 AM UTC
Clacks the train on pre-made track
Taps she on and on all day
Wheel on rail, turns wheel on rail
Never wavering from laid out trail.
Clacks the train on pre-made track
Oft taking souls both to and fro
Alas unseen goes the weary rail
As metal cuts through the nestled nail.
Clacks the train on pre-made track
The unjoining joint harked too late
Souls on board feel blinding pain
As loco veers off its destined lane.
Clacks she no more on pre-made track
Unhinged, undone, has no path, no role
Bent beyond all blacksmith skill
Now left soulless, without way or will.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
They waited in silence,
No questions they asked.
No demand to be noticed,
Though deadline neared fast.
They sat in quiet patience,
At attention they snoozed.
Hoping time would tick on,
When perchance they'll be used.
There are those who oft pray,
For these precious pearls rare.
Yet others throw reckless,
Lay 'em to waste with no care.
So when completing an essay,
With goals succinctly met,
Muse on this ode to the few,
Unused words of word limit.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
Be strong, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
Hold firm this home on murky depths
As familiar waves lap hungrily
Cry not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
As glimpses of a life once known
Ebbs and morphs deviously
Fear not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
The fight to grasp what once was known
Tattered image drips menacingly
Let go, dear weathered anchor
Of this mind adrift at sea
Slip gently asunder the past now lost
Unbound from memories, floating free.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
The Dark mist, it beckons,
It curls its manicured tip.
I twist, no, I resist,
Pleas die softly on my lip.
I conjure my life's images,
Of decent well adjusted folks.
Crumpets, giggles and tea bags.
Pinks and yellows that it evokes.
But fragile as an egg shell,
The cracks they show some more.
Lust and desire bubble forth,
Crimson lies sprawled upon the floor.
I'm told that I'm the Good Girl
Of frocks, and poise, and grace.
Yet the cracks they draw me in,
Fingers touch velvet and lace.
The Good Girl she suffocates,
In deaf silence she screams.
Awake she hides the gaping cracks,
Plays freely in her dreams.
So, Good courtesies in the light,
Smiling pleasantries at the fore.
But with heads turned I come to life,
Filled by the Dark I fight no more.
Two lives I live in parallel,
Soft moan sneaks past my lip
I am the dark, I am home,
I curl my manicured tip....
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC