I want to be his medicine
I want to heal his soul
I want to bring him peace
Like he has never known
I want to bring him chaos, too
I want to bring it all
Give him pain and comfort
With my wild call
He sits on perches
Preening, playing,
Perfect to view
He wants for nothing
So what’s a hen to do?
He does not sing or caw or call
He thinks he’s already said it all
And frankly he could stay silent
And still be worth the time
Quiet bird
He may be free
When his cage is only imaginary

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Here lies the dead wishes of men
once alive
the dense shrubs hide the pain
weeds thrive.

Here lies a grieving heart
once much joyous
the windows are broken and hurt
bricks break like glass.

Here lies the power of wealth
once pompous
now in ruined health
seems it wasn't all that precious.

Here lies the remains of heydays
once vibrant
with bones the jackal plays
reminds time is a tyrant.

Here lies moss on the wall
once finely painted
now dark and dull
the air is serpent scented.

If the night is half lit
and the silence is deafening loud
don't stop on the bridge upon Post Canal.

The shadows are rippling dark
and her water coiling snake
calls you to to take a dip.

It's shallow, says the phosphorent whisper
and the night too warm not to splash,
there's too much pain, the bridge creaks
leave behind, leave behind
you haven't anything to lose.

The winds buzz in your heart
disappear without a sound
nobody will know
nobody will care.

A few feet is not a great fall
and never greater than all the pain
you so silently suffered.

Once I stopped, tempted
almost inviting her to **** me in.

The coils rose and drew me in.

They said I jumped.

They could never know
I made peace with pain.

She said it was her only life line
scars telling of her life in parts
every detail of every knife line
where one ends, another starts

numbness is nothing
pain is something

she said it was like her only need
satisfaction in killing the numb
in the darkness, she can only bleed
looking forward to the pain to come

There were days
I remembered
To put my heart on my sleeve.

The other days
I hid it
So deep inside my body
I couldn’t find it for myself.

The terror of anyone finding
Me judging me
Seemed to linger in the air
I inhaled.