#hammock
In this bungalow bathed with mud and leaves
Moss seeps through fissures in the walls
Sprawling vinery rips through paint beneath.
As my headdress rusts on the window sill
I glance to hush its last scorning glares
Hidden in this hammock, outlining my fears.
This sunken land fails evermore
How steady the brick counts its last dusk
How many more days to tend to them?
Old tapestry hanging above untucks,
Undone by the collapsing roof.
Leave me here a bloodied man, squashed by rock.
Limping, gushing, dripping in my demise.
Aug 26, 2023
Aug 26, 2023 at 1:08 AM UTC
as a slung hammock
the moon was positioned
in last night's gloaming
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
#It was a warm June night
Swaying between two trees
You laid your head on my chest
The leaves whispered its sweet breeze
The lantern was set to low
While we read about that giant peach
Fireflies giving us a show
The AC shut off with a screech
You lifted your tiny head
Do you remember what you asked me?
Why do we never see mommy anymore?
Instead of telling you about the horror of drugs
I told you about the peace in death.#
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC
We hang in the void
between two ancient beings,
their skin grey and cracking,
their arms stretching high.
We take in the moments
and count them like tree rings,
our hearts soaring freely
as birds in the sky.
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
What a beautiful day
Nice breeze right off the bay
The Hammock swaying
Birds chirping and playing
The sun bright and sunny
Ice tea with a little bit of honey
A patch of daisies so yellow
Could this day be anymore mellow
Deep breathes of fresh air
This feeling of balance is rare
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 7:51 PM UTC
I string up my hammock for two,
and lay in it alone,
listening to the trees whisper to one another.
How I long to hear their songs
and giggle to their stories
of centuries past and times forgotten.
The wind rocks me close to her *****
while the sun shines down on the children
hoping from flower to flower and between blades of grass.
But my eyes grow heavy, and I struggle to stay.
Then I hear them,
laughingly say,
rest now child;
all is well.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 4:49 PM UTC
This hammock is my God Spot
It is stretched between two trees
And I always seem to learn a lot
As it bounces in the breeze.
As I sway I pray and listen
For God's calling in the wind
And perhaps he will send a vision
Forgiving me for all the times I've sinned.
My hammock is a double wide
In fact it has to be
For Jesus and I sit side-by-side
Held up for God's great love for me.
Forget about all your worry
And dwell in the presence of our Lord
There is no need to be in a hurry
When sabbatical has such great reward.
I take down down my hammock and shake out the sand
Then begin the journey home
But the Spirit does not let go of my hand
In case I stumble as I roam.
And I will think back on my spiritual vacation
And let my mind play dot-to-dot
As I wait in anticipation
For the next visit with my God Spot.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
Within this lonely now
Under blankets of night
Sunlit absence departs on beams of light
In the middle of this nowhere
The soul slips away in every direction
Riding a quietly tragic wave; a cosmic infection
Once a roar
Now a sigh
This love once burned like stars that never die
And now that ten thousand years can't save this life
We find ourselves together alone
Destiny shipwrecked us before we were even born
You were a secret hiding in the open
Must have turned a blind eye
Found a supernova posing as a clear blue sky
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
That night went by so fast, almost as if it never happened.
Yet it went so slow that every single word and thought and emotion was processed like the meat you buy from the supermarket.
Yet some things are still so unclear.
The adventuring must have meant nothing to you.
The hours we spent laying on the hammock were so bittersweet.
Sweet when you held me in your warm embrace,
and bitter when you got up and walked away.
I still hear the sound of your voice and think of earthquakes.
I remember the low rumble coming from my heart;
or was it my lungs?
Either way, there was a very unnatural disaster occurring somewhere within my chest that day and I can’t help but think of the bike rides in the woods.
The winding roads, the rocks and branches, the trips and falls, the scratches and cuts, and how you kissed every single one.
Your lips were like a dream and I remember how your eyes looked when you told me about your father.
I didn't think someone so magnificent was capable of feeling that much pain and loneliness and maybe now I understand why you couldn't stay.
But that doesn't explain why you left me there almost as if to say,
"I changed my mind. Loving you is impossible. It’s too much work, it’s too much pain."
But if that's true, then why is it my heart being shattered between your teeth?
All I wanted was a little more time.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
I am George the fisherman.
I have no use of my left foot.
The sky is dark; the air is cool,
and my good right shin
hurts from overuse.
I sleep in a hammock: stretched
between memories.
For I find myself hanging
from the one that is a second ago
and the one that is an eon ago
and they appear to be the same.
I say I sleep,
but really I just watch the night roll over me
as one point and the other converge
towards overlapping,
leaving me simply caught in a net.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
my mind was a fog...
my heart became a bomb
then the quiet explosion
turning into tiny particles...
floating through empty space
like a valley with no echo
holding your absence
shored against the ruins...
drowning in ten directions
i could hear the water
at the edge of all things
in the middle of this nowhere
hope becomes a loss.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
In a hammock
On the eve of final exams
There is a scent of caffeine coursed bodies pacing
the distances of Starbucks and the library,
an unusual sight at eleven at night
There is peace
In the fraternity- I think begins with a Sigma-
running around playing a vicious thirty person game of tag
Yeah, I witnessed that wipeout and it was hilarious
There is heat condensed around the height of brains
Struggling to realize dreams that require
Busy work man! It's just like six hours of nonstop busy work
The guy on the bench behind me whined out cooling breath of brown leaves
There is energy in the fractal jungle above
The towering umbrellas of Palm trees which grant me the magic of hovering
I see through waving leaves Orion's Belt.
The light pollution overpowers his body but
he reminds me that there is more in the astral world
Ibis scour the ground
Some would read the tea leaves
that bravest of birds has crossed my path
And I will survive the tests that I allow to define possibilities in life
There is closure to my left
Two girls in a hammock, bodies combined like a turtle in a shell
Only they know what goes on inside,
and all I witness is the harmony that the trials that students go through that unites
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
My arm felt right under her head.
Hair gently falling, flowing with the breeze.
The back and forth sway, of the hammock.
Warmth. Love. Happiness.
But happiness,
Happiness will make you miserable.
Expectations.
When my arm is solemn,
there is no breeze,
And my hammock is long gone,
That happiness will mock me,
Laugh in my face,
Taunt me until I fall.
It is relentless,
But I'm glad we had that moment.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC
back and forth,
slowly,
gently,
but just enough so
I can escape
this world.
I have to look in
just the right spot,
but when I find it
I'm gone
to a lush forest with
only
trees and skies
around me.
No more houses
or cars
or streets
or televisions
or toys.
And
no
more
people.
Just me,
swaying
in my own
little world
from my backyard.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC