Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nightwolf Nov 2018
I suppose I should be
thankful that
no one will be
my drink

©Nathan A. Brock 2018
Nightwolf Nov 2018
My words have been
within the confines
of my head; locked
behind tight iron lips;
off the walls of my skull
in wondrous merriment
and making new friends
amongst themselves.

Collating in an uprising
of sentences
- nouns and verbs
set aside their differences,
and become one
for one purpose.

They charge the iron gate
that is my clenched jaw,
as I fight the onslaught
of verbal warfare
coming from within.

They must not escape!!

One final push
and the gate flies
from it's hinges,
as my words spring forth
in triumphant absurdity;
flying free
from the deep silence
that once tortured them
so tirelessly.

©Nathan A. Brock 2018
Nightwolf Nov 2018
My desk is a boring place.

I sit for
hours scrolling through
long lists of emails and
service requests;
barely enough coffee in
my cup to erase the
blur from my screen.

Ahh, my desk is a
boring place.

There’s a cat on my
calendar that
stares at me in a
perpetual state of nervous
as if awaiting my
next movement
that it might
spring out of view
and hide beyond the edge
of it’s page.
But it doesn't; it sits and
gawks unmoving.

More emails..

Yet another printer is
down; the
same printer from last week.

What an absolute
headache printers are.
at least I can leave my
desk for 30 minutes
or so.

My desk is a
boring place

When I return, I may
write a line or two
to relieve the boredom but
don't expect too

Not from this poem.

This poem is a

©Nathan A. Brock 2018
Nightwolf Dec 2018
Opportunity surrounds me.

Like a restaurant menu I can
pick and choose which
items bet suit my palate,
though i'm afraid my mouth is
too dry
to fully appreciate the
savor off these new cuisines -
though they are quite fresh,
well prepared and
no doubt more nutritious than my
usual burger stand;
somehow, the burger sounds more

I know it is quite
strange to crave a
tasteless hamburger when
fillet mignon is on the table,
but I think what I really
desire is the familiar atmosphere;
people who understand
why I'm there because
they've been doing the same for years -
keeping with the
everyday tradition of
quick and familiar.

And, though we often
fantasize of gourmet, new would be
too much of a
bother to find agreeable.

Thus, we remain satisfied with the
every day grease ball burgers and
soggy fries.

©Nathan A. Brock 2018
Nightwolf Sep 26
"You know, those cigarettes **** people."

So does old age,
cancer and disease,
drunk drivers and guns,
angry fathers and husbands,
mountain lions and bears,
global warming and smog
and somewhere
theres a teacup poodle
eating the body of his owner
who just died of a heart attack
after a vigorous night
with a japanese *******.

I dont concern myself with death.
least of all, my own.

©Nathan A. Brock 2019
Nightwolf Sep 21
What a merry world of
smiles and winky faces
dancing though our
abstract emoticon existence.

Our life in the
here and now
can be so tedious and
exhausting, we need a
place that has all of our
generic emotional
presets ready to
fly at the
click of a mouse.

Thumbs and hearts are
just like people;
just as vague in
expressing our true fellings.
whats the difference?

Why strain our faces
any more than necessary?

We can express a
cornucopia of emotions
all while holding a
comfortable glare of apathy.

Yes, this new world is a
jolly place indeed!

©Nathan A. Brock 2019
Just getting over a long stretch of writers block so im writing through all the crap in my head. But, until a gem strikes me, i will gladly share my crap with you
Nightwolf Oct 6
Have you ever
experienced a silence
so profound
that every sound
only makes it seem

©Nathan A. Brock 2019
Nightwolf Sep 22
The elixir of life is no fairytale;
we call it coffee.

I was recently gifted with a
Starbucks gift card.
I hate Starbucks but one never knows
when one might find themselves without
and it's always good to have a backup plan.

Just such a morning was this!
With no coffee and no money, I remembered
the giftcard in my wallet and
started off for a cup of coffee that tastes
nothing like coffee should.

I arrived at Starbucks where I was
greeted by an over enthusiastic "Barista"
- I hate that word -
and placed my order of a large
medium roast with room for cream.
(You must let them know you would like room or they will fill it to the brim - one of the few redeeming qualities of this chain.)

I headed out to a small patio
located on the roof of the shop and on my
way up the stairs, my foot slipped
and down I came in slow motion - my
eyes never leaving the precious
elixir in my hand and, somehow,
managed to set it gently on its bottom
on a step above me as my knee and
shoulder crashed into the stairs.

A little spilled through the lid and onto
my arm, but only a little.

My coffee was saved!

As I mull over the events of this morning,
it only goes to show that no matter
how much I may dislike a particular
coffee chain, nothing could be more
terrifying than the thought of
facing the day with no coffee at all.

©Nathan A. Brock 2019

— The End —