I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perish'd thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

It's hard to write a poem
When there's nothing going on
It's hard to think of what to say
When you've given most of it away

As poets we never scratch the surface
We delve within, disclose our deepest sin
We crave our pain, declare it's for our art
Yet more often than not have no idea where to start

But start we do and start we must
A deep desire in all of us
To spill out on the written page
What little bit we have tried to save

Ink now is the poets blood
Fragments of self pour from within
Silence is our safety net
To stop us from bleeding out

Although it's hard to write a poem
With nothing going on
We still find words to form a verse
From deep within our marrow bone

Work © Mike Hauser & © Sia Jane

she was like liquid fire
everything she touched would turn to ash
and she touched me, dear god
her hands were warm like summer
she smelled like cinnamon and
betrayal

it was a bright sunday afternoon
I had just bought flowers
for her to kiss
her breath was decaying them
the fire, burnt them into nothing but
a pile of red and purple ash;
a lot like my heart

her hair smelled like *** and
sweat; I lean in closer
but I was harmfully ignorant
and didn't see the signs
of my lover
slowly turning over
for another

Stop looking down
Why do you decide
To walk a fine line?

There's more to this world
And you deserve better
Than tiptoeing a wire
That limits
Your direction

l.v.s

I've been
right in the thick of it
wanting to stick with it
just for the hell of it
up front and close to it.

But now
I've had my fill of it
done my fair share of it
time to slow down a bit
and exit before Brexit.