Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Church Rowe May 10
in a forest,
insects on my toes.
Have I lost it?
It’s better if I don’t think for so long.
I might stop it,
sabotage it,
before I make it home.

Don’t put that spell on me,
now that I’m free.

in a casket;
washed out to salty sea.
Sun-baked, I’m awake,
but again, it’s just me.
Two times, I have tried
to steer away
from a lake that bears my name,
but now that I’m awake,
the notion just don’t feel the same.

Have I lost we,
now that I’m free?

and dateless.
Lost in time and space.
Doesn’t matter where we begin
so long as it doesn’t end.
I stay in place as everything floats away;
running as if chased.
Lasso the sun or the moon
to rocket me to some other rat race.

If I’ve lost we,
then, so be.
See the song video:
Church Rowe Sep 2015
Awoke this morning to build an effigy.
A 9 am text turned it toward a eulogy.

I left exposed
my heart of gold
to another gone soul.

Hospital rooms,
beeps and boops,
my grandmother’s last soliloquy.

Her last trip through memory lane;
I listen intent, every word
branding onto my brain.

I beg just a little longer be
the bearer of the key
to this exclusive library, her history.

But, alas the doorway is flooding.
God has shut the ark door.
No salvation is coming.

Pulmonen et vita submersi,
analogon Atlantis

(Lung and life drowned, analog of Atlantis)

Goodbye ‘Maw-Maw’ Nell Broussard
Church Rowe Oct 2014
Life can get stuck
     in a downward spiral;
          into Death’s
               inevitable black hole.

Fly away
     little butterflies.
              out of your cocoons.

     but pace yourself
          from the inevitable
              and monotonous pull.
Church Rowe Sep 2014
She thinks she can change the world
just by hugging it tight,
swaying back and forth,
singing “It’ll be alright.”

For her utopian world,
I’d be willing to fight,
though I don’t believe
it’ll last a night.
Church Rowe Jun 2014
She draws closely.
Her nostrils flare; she senses me.
Too late to evade,
She's on the prowl, hunting me.

I convey a little interest,
and then a little lie,
in hopes to divert her current opinion;
to convince her of some other project to drink from.

While conversing, she made two good points before
and for a time, I did adore
her night-life sins,
like the antithesis
of her pale white skin.

One part yang, the other part yin.
Her total package perfectly zen.
Church Rowe Jun 2014
I fell off a slick, wet roof.
An oscillating view
of black and blue,
'til the thud of the ground
made its cue.

Funny how things no longer pain,
when the mind's busy fighting for what life remains.
Fuzzy darkness invades.
My life's last pixel threatens to fade.
Blood slows for death's chains,
as a distant angel serenades.
A voice long before I've ascertained
My wife, my love, running to me with voice strained.

Panicked footsteps thud against the ground.
Death's dark veil seemingly overwhelmed
with the light of my love's
symphonious voice at my helm.

Now, two months later,
with a story to tell all,
of Death's light overcome by Love's song.
Church Rowe Jun 2014
Part of me doesn’t want to write anymore (or is it anything?).
Am I just afraid to drag my emotions across this page?
My words tend to come back black and blue,
misunderstood from the most ridiculous points of view.

Should I end communications?
Though the shadows in my closet offer no verbal retaliations.
For better or worse, at least my ego’s not hurt
from a mad world’s projections.

But I don’t want to be the lonely one
hiding along the edge of the room,
surely looking broken to some,
while others wait for me to come undone.

Give me a minute and I’ll return to center ring.
Maybe it’s just the thought of a crowd that I find overwhelming.
Next page