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grumpy thumb May 2016
The rabble simmered to a distant dull din
muffled by thick wooden doors and hands clamped over ears.
Wanting deafness rather than to hear again
the laughter accompanied by his name spoken ugly as sin.
But who can mute memories or what screams from within?

Wilting for another night
wishing a dream would birth
enough light,
praying
to believe he could face the world
head held high,
no stoop to stop confidence
nor twist of frown to drown positive assurances.
just enough would be enough for him
if he could walk the way
the beautiful do.
Just the way they do.
grumpy thumb Apr 2016
Here it rests
this shadow of ink
a scratched silhouette
incompetence, I think
gazing upon giants
of then and now
toiling through verses
they've steadily ploughed.
And
I with pen
sit in wings
awed by how their silence sings
wishing not to follow,
but walk among.
But how could my words
ever be sung
when I'm not strong
enough to lift a worthy pen.
For the great poets I will never match.
Guess I better go for a while.
grumpy thumb Mar 2016
Splinters of shrapnel
explosive relationships
unretractable
grumpy thumb Mar 2016
Catch you
my breath,
shambolic hope,
flustered thought.

Take you:
glimmer kissed tear,
aphotic state,
penny drop.

Hold you
my ridicule,
cowardness,
dreary repetitive wish.

Their weight devours me so.
grumpy thumb Mar 2016
She plays "Misty"
for me
slowly
drifting into its veil
merging with waves
of minors and major-7s.
The passion of her
closed eyes
swoop and rise of brow
gentle sway
mouthing notes
playing from memory
lost in its depths
as I am in hers,

".....look at me..."
Remembering one who played for me.
"Misty" music my Errol Garner, lyrics latter added by Johnny Burke.
grumpy thumb Mar 2016
She skirts a dirge
skimming dregs
of a memory.
Keeping to shallow,
bearable,
remnant depths.
Sapient steps
with vigilance she threads.
She'd drown
if submerged.
grumpy thumb Mar 2016
Into a damaged heart
a temporary fix
of one night stands,
maybes and what ifs.
Glossing over cracks,
but the temporary rips,
widens in time,
gapping holes yawn
an infinite scream.
Vortex,
bottomless swallow
hungry to be filled.
Waiting for love's builders
to swoon with steel and solid bricks
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