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Jul 2020 · 86
Hammond Colson Jul 2020
Unforgiving wall braces my back.

Just seconds before the door slammed,
I truly thought I'd appreciate quiet.

But now the empty air constructs barriers so claustrophobic that my limbs won't twitch -

Forget functioning.

A single carpenter ant skitters across the floor before my grass-stained mesh sneaker, as if called from the slimy couch shadows on cue.

And then another.

(Note: The poet is self-conscious enough that he needs to say : "The following should be horrible writing, but after hours of thought I couldn't think of a better phrase to express our ill-fated protagonists' malice towards these insectile invaders than": )

I hate them.

I told (The One Who Escapes) on Monday that I'd handle the infestation.

Every time I saw an ant crawling after that-
I felt a swarm of mandibles tear at my brain tissue

and a burning in my intestines courtesy of burrowing.

A feeling that's amplified ad nauseam by current cacophonous quiet.

(The One Who Escapes) bursts back through the door, gasping for breath and blabbering with darting eyes about:

"They're coming right now!

We have to go!"
All Feedback Welcome!
Jul 2020 · 99
The WallPaper Poem
Hammond Colson Jul 2020
Floorboards carved with poems and littered with moth carcasses

rot under pink light tendrils spilling from the dust spattered windows.

I crouch in the corner and gouge my findings regarding the wondrous color into off-white wallpaper.

Looming pine silhouettes

watch vigilantly.

(Though I suppose that's the perspective on life that got me into this situation... Not enough of us listen to Galileo while he shrieks about the stars swimming.)

Perhaps apathy.

Cherry-blossom twilight mist -
hand of the sky grips my skeletal wrist and
records the history of a pebble

with gnarled fingernails.

So, here's 'The Wallpaper Poem':

If I'm to believe the tales,
the entire mechanism ends with me anyways.
All Feedback Welcome! I hope you enjoy!
May 2020 · 39
Hammond Colson May 2020
The explorer buries his shovel in the earth yet again
A once satisfying sound of metal piercing loose dirt
Now increasingly hollow
He makes not a sound yet he creams
This is the spot
It has to be
Deciphering the ancient map consumed his mind
Roiling ocean and nightmarish jungle decimated his body
Time withered his soul
And now his first glance of the tree carved with eyes
A moment that sang of golden cities
Eternal life and the true words of God
Is the echo of an echo
Of a memory
Dissolving into the suffocating heat
He knows
He lies to himself but he knows
Because this is everything
And so with a primal desperation…(xForever)
Hammond Colson May 2020
Jill hoped to be the President of the United States
Jack dreamed he would become a professional baseball player
I want to wake up feeling good about myself
Satisfied with my presence alone in a world I can recognize as profoundly beautiful
Jill works in IT for a mid-sized frozen food distributor
Jack died when he was blindsided by a drunk driver
May 2020 · 34
Butterfly Dreams
Hammond Colson May 2020
My eyes flicker open
The universe flutters away
Dreams like sand
Grains dissolve through trembling hands
Tip the hourglass and let butterflies fade
Giving way to crashing waves of grey
I’ll return to my kingdom in the clouds
If I can just get through the day
May 2020 · 80
Bird Songs
Hammond Colson May 2020
Songs without birds witness eternity
In the smoldering crown of leaves
Their melodies seep through the open window
Sap from the weeping oak
I see myself dwarfed by the forest
Oblivious to the inferno swallowing the trees
I can’t call out
So I listen
May 2020 · 34
Our Thoughts
Hammond Colson May 2020
I am the hivemind architect
A venomous arachnid
Designer of this sprawling web
Silk strands drip with vitriol
My thoughts are a poison
Leaking from an abyssal well
In the garden of wither and rot
Taking root in their brain stems
Until we all hate me the same
May 2020 · 29
Shower Thought
Hammond Colson May 2020
If North Korean filmmakers
Wanted to bring a camera to Flint
I think they'd be given a patriotic tour of DC
And wouldn't be allowed in Michigan for ****
May 2020 · 50
Hammond Colson May 2020
I've seen the strawberry fields
Disguised as wildflowers by the driveway
I've seen gold dust in the powdered lemonade
Please believe me
Please believe me
May 2020 · 99
Hammond Colson May 2020
Ant trap in the corner with snowy dust atop its peak
Unmarked by death under a green paint chipped sky
Because one universal truth has been passed down
Through generations of insects
Nourished by the fruits of my room
There's poison in the flowers under the mountains
And that's a reason I can live isolated
In conditions this vile
Any critiques, observations and thoughts welcome! I just want to get better
Apr 2020 · 37
Promises of Life
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
It's about the journey
Not the destination
Behind the curtain pay no mind
But how shiny are the treasures
You'll dig up from time to time?
They're worth a fortune
But at the end there's no one who buys
Apr 2020 · 120
Cotton Clouds High
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
With an empty mind I'll survive
Drift among the stars
To a secluded cabin in the sky
I'll spy on myself from above
Cotton clouds high
Feel nothing when my hollow husk
Gets ambushed in the pit
Tumbles and dies
Free I'll fly
My kingdom won't be reality
But I'l finally have something that's mine
Apr 2020 · 50
My Home
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
I was raised in a place
Scorched by seven consecutive lightning strikes
And watered by seven drops of blood
From the pumping heart of a human sacrifice
Where a strawberry field unfurls
Under a golden sun that forever staves off night
Apr 2020 · 52
Foggy Days
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
Frigid grey waves
Icy rain
I need to sharpen my machete
To cut through this haze
Summer gone
Golden sunlight fades
Were there ever better days?
Apr 2020 · 127
Sugar Pills
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
Would a doctor find a chemical imbalance?
One too few neuron connections?
Or did I just swallow a sugar pill
Because a pill is a pill
And I'm starved for attention?
Apr 2020 · 80
The Baby Bird and Me
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
Take the tumble
Out of the nest in the grand oak tree
Ignore the incoming pavement
Wax wings and a dream will set you free
Apr 2020 · 39
Mr. Tumble
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
Mr. Tumble
He's always there
Lurking just beyond my fingertips
In the abyssal darkness
At the pit of the stairs
In the black I've witnessed
His yellow
I know he's there
Apr 2020 · 107
Hammond Colson Apr 2020
I know that They aren't there
Gnashing Their teeth and salivating
Primed to revel upon my corpse
When I tumble down and fail
I'll turn a corner
And the shadows might be bare
As winter trees
With skeleton fingers instead of leaves
But They exist in my head
So I must believe that They're as real
As real can be
Mar 2020 · 130
Hammond Colson Mar 2020
I don’t want to struggle every day
For the men and women above the mantle
Specters of success and history
Whispering at the door to my mental
But I have one life that is mine
I will not be used as a vessel
Mar 2020 · 65
Rich Kid
Hammond Colson Mar 2020
I’m an upper-middle class kid playing adult
So my feelings and problems don’t matter
I’ll just hang myself
To the sweet sound of your laughter
Mar 2020 · 83
To Be Honest
Hammond Colson Mar 2020
If I pen with total honesty
They might put my work in books
And I want them to know my name
But if they know my soul I’m ******
Mar 2020 · 91
Wax Wings
Hammond Colson Mar 2020
My wax wings flap
Fields of gold below
A blur down the freeway
I drive in a straight line
Because I don’t care if I lose control.
Mar 2020 · 75
Hammond Colson Mar 2020
I hope that when I meet God
My blood runs black with drugs
I hope I have to hold back *****
As I climb the marble steps
And stare to the brilliant light above
I hope someone would help me
I hope I die doing the one thing I truly love
Dec 2019 · 188
Christmas Spirit
Hammond Colson Dec 2019
Snow doesn’t drift to earth in the same magical way

And there’s no velvet fire to stave off frigid grey

Winds of time erode my sliding face

Each year more hidden

Lumps of coal encase

Golden light illuminates past hallowed times

Laughter and family under a heavenly shine

Was that honeysuckle glow ever there?

Or was it a product of a hope filled child’s mind?
Nov 2019 · 42
In Her Final Moments
Hammond Colson Nov 2019
I want to believe that she's just resting on the sofa in her living room.

I hope she’s bathing in the sunlight that’s streaming through the polished windowpanes of her little white cottage.

I hope where she is, the air is clean and smells like apples and cinnamon or pine and snow.

I hope the sound of a car parking in her driveway drifts to her ears to accompany an angelic symphony of birds and bubbling brooks,

And her heart warms because her daughter and her grandchildren have arrived right when they said they would
Aug 2019 · 509
Hammond Colson Aug 2019
Jukebox ballerina
Poison flowing through her veins
One day she might part
With this dust laden floor
And dance
On a formal velvet stage
For tonight
She swallows more tequila
And floats to the sunset
Atop invisible lapping waves
Aug 2019 · 192
Hammond Colson Aug 2019
Was forged in chains
Trapped by our ancestors
To remain untainted for eternity
In the depths
Of a sealed cave
But time conquers
Stone erodes
Chains rust away
And when exposed to the sun
In a wisp of crumbling dust
Impossible fades
impossible motivate time fade ancestors
Jul 2019 · 209
Hammond Colson Jul 2019
The omnipresent THEY
Packed on one and other
So tight THEY can’t breathe
Claustrophobic screams ring
As THEY stretch out their claws
To the only miniscule sliver of light
Their beady eyes can see
And THEY cut furiously
At my straining legs
As I fight
From the depths of this barrel
On my way
To the Sea
Jul 2019 · 169
Hammond Colson Jul 2019
The paramount goal of art
Is to pour
Your whole self
On a page
And illicit a stronger
Visceral response
From viewers
Than the next
To come
Jul 2019 · 269
Fool's Gold
Hammond Colson Jul 2019
Fate is false hope
Sluggish stagnation
In the stars
You wish on a comet
That all your mistakes
Wipe away
When the universe
Finds it fit
But what
Would it all be for?
Jul 2019 · 170
The Magician
Hammond Colson Jul 2019
An everyday illusionist
In a ring of empty seats
I blinked and missed
Her sleight of hand
A snap
And the world changed before me
Even the most ordinary
Was not exactly as it seemed
Out of nothing
A dove would materialize
In her fingers
When I was in need
Dinner always hot
Every surface clean
But like a polished act
When the spotlight dims
And the visage is stripped
To no applause
Her work
Was aching muscles
Dirtied palms
Internal screams
Jul 2019 · 165
[Serial Killer]
Hammond Colson Jul 2019
If the soul makes the man
And the flesh a husk
The elaborate hoax of hope
Is the most prolific killer
That ever was
Jun 2019 · 449
Deja Vu
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
At night when I lie awake
If I’m overtaken by a creeping sleep
I’ll face that chilling nightmare
Of perpetual recurring dreams

At dawn when I lay asleep
If I’m lifted to a sudden wake
I’ll face that omnipresent terror
Intent on my sanity's break
Jun 2019 · 535
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
A daisy stops me
On my way to the door
Symmetry ideal
A hued absence pure
Among the bed
Of Vitruvian make
No flaw I can detect
Yet no aroma to adore
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
Our perceptions are established over time
Like a library
Brick by book
Filled with memories and experiences
To inform the eye
To inform the mind
As to manifest a sturdy barrier
Between what could be real
And what must be a lie
We cultivate a vast collection
Over the span of an entire life
Constructing shelves of schemas
And halls of rules and laws
If the impossible is imposed upon us
Does the entire structure fall?
And what of the sanity that scaffolds and lifts
The crumbling library walls?
Thanks for reading!
Jun 2019 · 181
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
Cerebral Static
Cardiac racetrack
Dark clouds electric and a frantic synapse
Wailing fawn clamped in a trap
Calf separated from the herd
Relentless lion attack
Skittering swarm over pulsating skin
Coffin bound
Worms and maggots burrowing in
Human plunges; Never learned to swim
Waves pounding down
Screams dissipate in swirling violent winds
Jun 2019 · 259
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
Sands of solitude
Final message in bottle
The deep sea swallows
Jun 2019 · 553
Deathbed Red [2%]
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
Blood pools, death awaits
Gleaming Sustenance Draining
Apple rots away
Jun 2019 · 820
Cul-De-Sac Dreams
Hammond Colson Jun 2019
They’re all the same.
They’re all the same.
Sterile cubes to the horizon; snowy stains
Crew cut lawns of
Neon ball-field grass
Blacktop floors, silver chariots past
Barbed wire cages of pristine wood sides
Maples spaced mechanically
Mother Nature cyanide
Hospital sheeting, board room meeting
Hollow caskets of dead visions
Creative color fleeting.

They’re all the same.
They’re all the same.
Optic nerve trickery; I must be insane
So far the truthful eyes can see
Flawless cookie cutter plastic sheen
Synthetic golden palace gleam
Manicured daisies spaced between
Another and another; cloned dollhouse genes
Another and another; recurring cul-de-sac dreams
Criss-crossed patterns; golf course greens
Castles of pastel kings and queens.
Thanks! Any feedback appreciated

— The End —