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SBohl Nov 2011
This room reeks of apathy,

but the overwhelming smell,

the horrid stench creeps,

seeping from the jar.



I have crammed too much

stuff

into it.



This stuff of angst

disappointment

damaged pride

biting regret

insecurities

loneliness

tension

failure



pain.



Pa­in crammed into a jar

shoved into a corner of

this room.



The room that used to

reek of apathy.
SBohl Nov 2011
A temptuous squirm,
a deceptive beauty.
Hearts upon
hearts upon
hearts awaiting
attention.

Fast moving fins
in time with heart’s pace,
he finally found food
in this famished place.

The bait is baited
heavy
and clean.
Her shimmer he sees
blinds all that is
mean.

The striking mask is all he sees
blocking the evil within--
her unrelenting hold
will summon a sharp pain.

Don’t take the bait.
SBohl Nov 2011
She can hear him again
around every corner
whispering in every thought
barking at her heels
brushing against her neck.

That summer will never leave
It’s rooted so deep
the very veins of its being
choke every nerve
every laugh
every reaction
every fall
every song
everything.

everything

She likes to pretend.
A new twist
on a childhood game.

but she knows
knows he hasn’t left
he runs his nails
              through her hair
                               before bed
then reads his favorite never ending bed time stories
worse than nightmares
worse than stench
worse than blood
worse than fear
never ending
never ending
never ending
SBohl Oct 2011
she gazed out her large Window
into her deceptively handsome Garden,
the Ghost of her past lingering
around her fourth finger.
she used to covet such a Garden
when ignorance hid the effort needed.

It now begged for her
like a needy Child.

I had rid myself of love
I had rid myself of love
her eyes locked shut
refusing to open
to anything but an Ocean

tile’s embrace
and unconsciousness
provided the scenery
as she watched her Music
slowly ebb out to sea.
SBohl Oct 2011
Water races beyond the blue
emptying from flooded cloud buckets
pouring into hills, once new.

The untouched ground astounded anew
finding this performance a beautiful sight
of water racing beyond the blue.

Comes again, that rainy view
tearing ways for personal navigation
pouring into hills, once new.

Tears falling to pursue
gravity’s lustful attraction
so water races beyond the blue.

An overpowering river-way avenue
stole this knoll’s virginity
after water raced beyond the blue
pouring into hills, once new.
This is a Villanelle style poem
SBohl Oct 2011
If your eyes can hear the words
If you ride phrases to another place
If your heart exhausts itself in submersion

The poem breathes success.

If the words claw at your eyes
If phrases keep you at a distance
If emotion is imbedded between each mark

The poem drowns.

Ring out the tears
and immediate reactions,
Hang out their sources to dry.
Inspiration reflects truer
after a strong wind of patience.
SBohl Oct 2011
Peeve growled
at the gnashing, hypocritical teeth
took a step back to avoid another fight.
His pacifism remained unnoticed,
his pride maliciously mauled again.

It’s difficult to beat a pair of dogs
demanding retreat
yet never retreating themselves.

He has doubled his weight,
newly found power pulses in his pupils,
his lacerated skin begs for revenge.

Legs fully cocked,
pleading for release.

Try growling now, *******.
I dare you.
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