Dirges

1 Ideas don't last forever, poetry gets old. I'm marching to a tune that isn't my own; play pretend - a put-on calm and dignity - go to bed with sad thoughts on repeat (shame and sin and sonnets and soul) like the morning paper with its murkiness that makes me wanna cry and bare…

Maybe

So maybe she's mastered the poker face put the moon in a wineglass and escaped into the ink stained night reflecting no light, no starry blink no expression, no worries taking in the eclipses and storms that rent the firmament, into her galaxy and never crying tears of stardust. So maybe no one can see…

Unbecoming and Becoming

I'm tied - a lost, anchored boat, storm tossed in an abandoned land - with the water sizzling up in a flame, a fiery chalice, burning roped bridges, wreaking red and orange havoc that smoulders, crackles and drops, as the lone soul runs for dear life and the gasping bridge burns close behind... Save me,…

The Tree

I shed my leaves and stare at the sun stand stark and bare, unafraid to burn; let the roar of the river reverberate and rent the overcast, overwhelmed firmament. Glad tidings to all that curse to see from these harrowing horrors, my release - when charred to a crisp 'neath ash grey skies like the…

Lost Child

nobody listens when you need to be heard the most from the blues to the utter darkness, couldn't care less, no if there is no room for life after catharsis why am I looking why am I even looking for my northern lights? Sad monotones from sad keys of monochrome sadder dreams of playing those…