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.

Not a poem

This is no poem,It's simply an idle thought:I think that I still miss you.

Thank you, Atticus

His hands worked slowly,Pulling up the dark covers,Tucking me in, safe. Even winter's chill,Can do nothing in the face,Of a father's love.

No Partnership Survives Fame

Once, we took our pens to cut our throats,Spill our blood onto the kitchen tile,So that we could write poetry with our toes,And allow us the chance to finally be free,That we might die die die to feel alive. But publicity makes all of us turncoats,And all those stupid posts've gone viral,As it starts isn't … Continue reading No Partnership Survives Fame →

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.

My Response

These hands have grown old,Having done nothing worthwhile,But write loveless poetry. My eyes grow weary,Having shed so many tears,You're hardly worth the pity. My heart is heavy,Having borne so many hurts,It's now a knot of old scars. Then rejoice, old friends,Winter is a time for rest,A brief relief from the pain.

Premonition 2022

The new dream this year,Scattered like the morning mist,With my first stirring,Leaving behind false feelings,Like bloodstains left by kisses.

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.