some dayswords flow from my fingertipslike a mighty riverslide from my lipsin a deafening torrentof insighta logorrheic overflowspread out on the pagein the aira feast for the ear and the eye other days…not so much 04.25.23
Category: Poetry
interlude 2
i had finally found my wayto the center of the labyrinth there was no minotaur hereno pile of bonesno evidence of the violencethat fill the ancient tales the only sound was quietthe steady rhythm of my own breathing it was a circular roomwith one entranceso with one exit nondescript white wallsplain and unassuming in the…
hanging on the telephone
when i was a childmy father gave me a broken telephone i took it apartunscrewed it as far as i couldleft it as a pile of piecesa metallic jigsaw puzzle i had no goal, no purpose in this dissectioni wasn’t trying to figure out how it workedi just wanted to see its innardslaid out before…
a plate of shrimp
last night i had a dream where i was trying to take a showerthat wasn’t the whole dream of coursei was in chicago with my (dream) girlfriend for some sort of conferencethere were students there tooand other teachers it was the last morning of the conferencesunday morningtime to get ready to go homemy girlfriend had…
so anyway
so anywaythe other day i was thinking about how i was trained to always apologizeto always feel sorry for who i am and what i’ve doneand how that created a lifetime of shamelikeeverything i do is wrongbutit’s just not truei meanhonestlyi know that i’m not perfect and that plenty of what i do is messed…
97%
thoughts and prayersat the end of a steel barreldo not stop the deathhurtling forth thoughts and prayerskeep falling on the deaf earsof children cut downlike weedsinconveniences in the way of the liberty to own machines of death thoughts and prayersare not what will stopthe next one orthe next one orthe next one we need to…
cocoon
left outlocked outdown below the waterlinefloating in stasisnot drowningbut not breathing embraced by the filigreethe layers of dishonestycocooned in the safetyof my self-victimizationnot cryingbut not laughing simply herebetween the sharp edges of realityand the freedom of the dream can i be so subtleand still claw my wayabove the surface?and do i really want to? (i’m…
solemnity
at the end of sorrowat the end of ragethere is a quieta pausea simmering peacethat resolves into joy i do not want ecstasyi even struggle with spelling iti do not want deliriumor heavenly bliss i just seek the joythat resides in the softnessof that momenton the other side of darkness it is the peacein a…
what’s wrong?
what’s wrong?is my least favorite questionbecausesometimes i don’t know the answer i didn’t know what a meltdown waseven though i had them all the timeand so i trained myself to make something upto find the fracture that caused the collapseto explain the implosion and the sadness public sadness is an obligationit’s an obligation to stay…
redundant
it’s hard to keep upwith what i’ve already saidit’s hard to look backto make sure i’m not sayingwhat i’ve already said it feels like i keep saying the same thingscreaming at the same walltugging at the same stringsinside my memories is there a goalis there an endif i tear down the bricksto find the me…