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Days pass by
Black and white
Life happens all around
But never to me
World experienced
Through waking coma
Nervous system weak
All feeling almost gone
Until I look back
Through old notebooks
Re-experience trace memories
Of who I once was
Who I used to be
And maybe still am
Reading these old writings
I feel more of my old self slip away
But I smile
For it means
I’m still here
Max Southwood Aug 2020
You sit awake at 5 AM
Unable to sleep from the heat
A mind burdened by desire and ambition
Blurry dreams that are out of focus
Impossible to see for the eyes that have lost their vision
Out of touch from the heart beat slowing down
You’d mourn the loss of your being
But tears can’t heal the dying
And pain, no matter how brilliant, can’t bring back the dead
You climb back into your coffin
Next to your fellow corpse in the bed of hope
And you realize
Sometimes it’s better to let it die
Just a little something I wrote at 5 AM this morning.
Max Southwood Dec 2019
Birthed from the mire
Of pyroclastic grey
Entropy reigns supreme

Cracks in creation
Beckon the thaw
Veins of inferno clean

Ashen rains bury the land
Show where life has once been

Swallow all life
Diminish all light
This is the end of all things
I was watching a documentary about volcanoes, which inspired this apocalyptic poem.
Max Southwood Jan 2019
When the sun has gone to sleep
And ghosts have had their time to creep
Imps and goblins awaken to
Do the things that monsters do
Max Southwood Apr 2018
Breath escapes from failing lungs
Withheld and yet withdrawn
Spirit ascends from hollow body
Leaving husk behind

The breaking of cosmic chains
Disguised as extinction of the flesh

Essence drifts through ether
Lost amongst the wonders of creation
Untethered traveler
Escaping the disgrace of dying stars

Relinquished life
Acquired release

Liberation of the body
Immunity of the spirit
Elevation of the mind
Alleviation of torment
Death is not the end.
Max Southwood Oct 2017
Through boundless eons of black chasms of time
Stygian waters have hidden a secret dark
For something lurks far beyond the threshold of ocean and sky
Something swims deep down in the dark heart of Adam's Ale
It's hulking mass creeps through the ages with crystalline eyes
Always searching, always waiting
Through vast, vacuous gloom and murky brine
Yellow-emerald light signals the arrival of the Gaping Void
Lighteater, Purveyor of Doom with voidmight abound
Cosmic sustenance; celestial bodies on which he will feed
An alignment of dead stars will beckon the ascent
A new age of perfect midnight will begin
And there will be a terrible reckoning
When terror rises from the deep
A piece I composed to accompany a painting I made a few years ago. I thought it was appropriate to share since Halloween is right around the corner.
Max Southwood Oct 2017
By early mornings light
Shadows disperse
Run for cover to the dark roots
Subterranean refuge
Safety in the cold earth
Mother Nature’s bedrock womb
Necrosis of light gestates
Rests its weary, starless mind
Gloom retires, lies in wait
Twilight beckons the return
Where does darkness go when the sun comes up?
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