Fade Into the Sun

what is there to do
when all that you knew
is no longer

with nothing there
to fill the chasm
chaos left behind

when every word returns
back to its bitter home
rejected

where only fools who feel
will find the strength
to carry on

years have fallen wayward
to the tune of time’s duress
shaping us into these forms
of unfamiliar wresting

once, we walked as one
along the open road
to freedom

now, through one another’s wounds
we bleed into remorse

yesterday
you turned away
and shunned our reign
of squander

leaving me
to wander
through this world
without ward

every ounce of dignity
has seeped into contrition

confined unto this bed
of frozen tears
unraveling

somewhere
amid lost expression
linger words
aloof with languor

haunted
by the fate of truth
we fade
into the sun

Fear Becomes Us

tears are as the bloodstream of emotion
worn upon our sleeves composed of ever fading dreams
we try to run and hide
but the babel brimming from inside
has left us inert in a state of stimming terrified

fear becomes the impetus for action
fretting with impetuous assertions not implied
oversized amygdalas have compromised our diligence
resulting in a consequence that cannot be denied

here is where all roads lead to an impasse
heightened insecurities usurp our better vies
intentions corrupted
based on truths since deconstructed
the sanctity of verity now hinges on our pride

ere the era of self-preservation
people showed consideration toward their fellow man
now their sole concern is such
that every bridge is burned
an irony so cruel ensuring our fate is at hand

Words of Appreciation

I am shamefully aware of my avoidant personality issues which cause me to appear aloof and distant to those whom I care about, which includes you. As I have explained in previous posts, I struggle with correspondence triggered anxieties that are a debilitating factor in my everyday existence.

What I would like to do is to thank everyone for their kindness. Specifically, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for a select group of those whose presence I have taken note of in their continual support.   These lovely people are so incredibly considerate as to provide their thoughts and opinions which are a crucial source of inspiration to me through their writing and their humanity.  [If you click the links it will take you to their sites]


To start with, I wish to thank Jasper Kerkau for bringing me into his family of diversely excellent writers of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective. His unrelenting kindness and support from early on have paved the way for so much of my expression. Christine Ray is always there to remind me that I’m on the right path. She is a precious soul companion all throughout ephemerality. oldepunk is my source of support that makes me always want to strive for the most honest and respectable work I can muster. I can’t read his words without being affected on a profoundly personal level.   I wish to personally thank      Jenn   Vanessa      Just Joan       Mark R. Stone      JohnCoyote       TheFeatheredSleep             Chandra Vice        Rob       Marts       Jac Forsyth       Aakriti Kuntal    Maria Gianni Iannucci   Nicole Lyons        Bethany Kay       Kindra M. Austin        ididnthavemyglasseson     Alka Rao    Amie Sparks        anotetohuguette       annajenkins        yassy          Kunstkitchen           Gospel Isosceles           Chronosfer         Felicia Denise        Grim’s Crypt       Tammy Mezera      Truly Unplugged        Millie Thom        Eugenia       Simply Me       Katrina       K.D. Dowdall     InsidiousCravings        Jdub        jessamayann     yagnesthakore        Art History Blog        ~M      joliesattic      chris jensen      Tyla Smith         Thoughts In Life          Grand Trines     NanMykel        djemmand     Jon     Jade Edge       Child of Cynicism           livingastanya      me   Norma Bobb          DeanJean      curryNcode      10000hoursleft         koko boocro      ZoolonAudio       wrealistwriter      weird weekends blog       pirate patty           wtwijj     penpowersong        curlygirlabroad         AR      dievca       S Francis       Mark Ryan    Beauty From Ashes       John Robinson       TwistedDawn23         Linnet Moss      Jeanne  janeweightreed10        Samasya Tapasya       Mike        Miranda       Samantha Lucero           eyes + words        S.K. Nicholas  and many others to be added in a future post.  All of you are amazing writers and beautiful human beings.  Thank you for everything you bring to this world.

The Sleepless Hour

drowning
in the darkness

silence
rests upon her lips

i long
to lift my leaden head

paralyzed
by thoughts of living

seconds drifting
in and out
from borrowed backgrounds

sitting in the circle
of regret
and rotting earth

thoughts of her
tormenting
pages shorn
to show an ending
spurned

still
her laughter echoes
through the frigid nights
of empty air

poisoned
by the voiceless peril
slithering through
meadows maddened

striking with a force
unfounded
never was her kiss
denied

but shallow whispers
lay awake
to court the
shadow’s song of ruin

through the forest
whence we stumbled forth
to greet the sleepless hour

Profound Mechanism

what an oddly profound mechanism memory is
to be able to hear
the exact sound of someone’s voice
from years ago just by imagining it
to be able to vividly picture
a scene from a bygone era
whilst simultaneously looking
at the reality of the present moment
to summon the irreplicable symphony of flavors
rendezvousing upon the tongue
from a cherished dish
whose creator is no more
to behold the sweet scent
that once had found your senses
rapt in an erstwhile lover’s embrace
to revisit the feeling
of fleeting ideals
whence they fooled you into falling
for what you thought would be forever
foundations are ever shifting
in the light of newfound context
tragedy reshapes the stories
locked within our mind
knowing that the day will come
when all that we might stand to muster
swiftly turns to dust swept away
by a lonesome gust of wind
and this, the only truth
that we might ever trust in
it is for this very reason
we must live
within each moment
to foster our experience
as though it were untold
to leave a bold impression
that we one day might recall again
when all is lost as we retreat
into death shrouds of our own making

Phantom Filament

i swallow pills
to feel like i exist
to stay my wrists
from bleeding out
and the nightshade
from my mouth
keep the hammer
from the primer
and the blade
untouched by blood
to prevent another haunting
at a wayward viaduct
so the reservoir stays pure
and the oven safe for food
let the rope tend to its duty
and the fires burn of wood
plastic bags were meant for sundries
and policemen to protect
heroin is too depressing
living death begets respect
it’s an irony most shameful
that to suffer is to earn
amid consequence most baleful
while the tastemaker’s face turns
as we follow in the footsteps
of a lifelong detriment
chanting “this is as good as it gets”
in a phantom filament

On a Saturday Morning

wake up
just to not
give a fuck

torn
from the only place
where i have
any worth

cursed to face
isolation
without hope
for solution

in this
hypnic delusion
of my cryptic submission

cigarette-lipped confusion
fuck
it’s hard
just to type shit

this
as good
as my life gets

i can’t quit
and yet, i did

with this pill
that i swallow

maybe death
will soon follow

on a saturday morning
and she’s not in my arms

there’s a draft
slowly drifting

into yesterday’s clothes
on an old
beat-up mattress

that some rat
made its home

i had bought
a humane trap

but i can’t bear
to tear him

from his only known dwelling
because i know the feeling

in the attic of heartache
it’s a static illusion

i can’t take
much more of this

not without
her love’s solace

on a saturday
so low

with my rodent companion
i refuse to abandon

unlike her
with her hand
down the pants
of a strange man

i guess we are all victims
of a silent affliction
where we scream
but no sound comes
only numbness
of conscience

bleeding truth
in her absence
in the attic of loss
left
on a saturday
mourning

with this rat
my only friend

Token of Her Heart’s Reflection

it’s hot outside
my heart is broken

yesterday
the news struck ground
after weeks
bound by tempest waters
ravaging resolve

her restraint
was faint at best
upon a whim’s behest
it crumbled

knowing well
the consequence
were she to sip
the spirits of chance

known to fail
my intuition
when it passed
i turned away

it was this moment
that would tear
our bond asunder

all the fire
that burned within me
now subdued
to hurt transmuted

as the bead of sweat
gathers to fall
in the periphery

from the black rimmed glasses
perched upon my face askew

also, does a tear lamenting
sent from realms
of shuttered pain

sweltering
as sorrow rings the sting
within this vacant stare

trained upon that shattered moment
shone to show her disregard

that she would allow
for all this

broken boundaries
words misspoken

token of her heart’s reflection

Faithless Wraiths

My latest poem on Sudden Denouement

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

slighted

by eluding slumber

on this

the eve of our undoing

a queendom

once as mighty

as the matriarchal moon

teemed with warmth

effusive

now reduced

to shards

of lucid shame

poring over

penned epiphanies

of deconstructing

torrid tales

torn into pieces

taking flight

as footsteps fall

fleeing from

this strangest feeling

folding into

flawed expression

told by victors

sold to loss

pictures steeped

in surface tensions

depths of our

sustained dissent

situated on a slab

of drab somatic sediment

a case of faithless

wraiths

drunk

on the urgency

of slow submersion

there is no function

left to serve

no faction

fraught with fervor

fading into fields

of fescue

overtaking structures stoic

tucked away

’til all the hands

of time

release their souls


[Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of…

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