Through Pain

I’ve a nostalgic sort of suffering,An ear infection, if I am to understand(or a slender blade piercing either side of my skull)Hot pads and an old dryer relieves the pain,But it’s the deafness that swallows me in helplessness,Waking up in the middle of the night in tears,Weeping at my pitiful helplessness,Weakness of my body wracked … Continue reading Through Pain →

2am Denny’s, Backbooth

There's something about 2am Denny's,That I could never put to words,That could obliviate the worst of the night,And give you exactly what you deserve,Like hash browns and eggs to soak up regret,Or a patty melt devoured without reserve(that'll get that taste out of your mouth),Or just something wholesome for your nerves,Like a cuppa, or maybe … Continue reading 2am Denny’s, Backbooth →

On Ghosts and Spirits

The last thing I'd want is to return,To be forced to continue this game,To be trapped in this limbo of life,Forced to repeat this cruel shame.I'd rather let go of it all,This miserable, endless tirade,Condemn myself to some rest,Sleep in the bottom of my grave.

Planted Fruit

Before he loved me,He loved another like me,And so another will come,With my eyes and mouth,To plant kisses on his frown,And eat the fruit of my work.

To Nowhere and Back

The engine turned over at last, proceeded by a hoarse round of cheers. The New Year had come and gone huddled in the back of the old Honda, a burbling hookah and a crushed pack of old cigarettes (Quit smoking or quit buying, eh?) our only source of warmth. Our passing savior and her oversized … Continue reading To Nowhere and Back →

Remember Oblivion

The clock ticks the seconds towards nothing,As my heart beats out the rhythm of lost dreams,The eternal pulse towards hopeful oblivion,Measured as retreating tides towards a faraway horizon,Where my memories of you refuse to die. My dearest love gave me the timepiece,Broken now, although the message remains,Dull etchings in tarnished brass:"Time not wasted, only borrowed … Continue reading Remember Oblivion →

Discarded Tinsel

It's the winter cold,That cuts the most,Reminding me of old,Of efforts like ghosts,Gone like my breath,Caught upon this chill,Fluttering to its death,Like such discarded tinsel. Once lustrous, boldly gleaming,Now faded beyond glory,Having lost all meaning. Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, “Tinsel” as part of their Quadrille Series #142. Always a pleasure … Continue reading Discarded Tinsel →

Retirement Strategies

I've struggled to see,The sunset of my career,As anything more than death. Honored teacher says,"A righteous man finds his peace,Only as a hollow corpse." My thoughts grow foggy,Like the wooded path leadingTo this idle hermit's home. For once in your life,Be content with well-earned sleep,And rest on your laurels, fool.

A god Am I?

Fistfuls of my clay,Puddling into mountains of disuse,While my exasperation springs forthWintry gusts of air. I wonder what they will say,The denizens of this place,Of their absentee landlord?

Third Eye

I'm a tightly-wound knot of fear,Silently growing,Ever the smaller,Yet ever the denser,Like a cancer that grows inward,A gleaming pearl of horror,Lodged deep withinThe center of my mind.