Category: Emotional

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Furtive Moons

there are only so many metaphors
that serve to justify this pain
so many words
chewed up
and spit back out
onto surfaces
whose purpose
carries all burdens

these feelings are like water
journeying alone
in a fearless freefall
crashing into the earth below
to join the fates
that all have known

still, each fragment
leaves its mark
for others to embark upon
in the hour
of our exodus to exile

the skies belong to one
as one to all
as life itself
bleeds into the eyes
at the horizon

we take our tragic pittance
wrought from anguish
each within the alchemy intrinsic
to their own

to spin the loom
and weave majestic tapestries
of triumph
to share the secrets
intimately held
by furtive moons

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Accursed Ring

i have worn
this banded armor
shorn away
by silent toll

even now
in days diminished
erstwhile sentiments yet hold

idle hands
have stayed my purpose
vice allays
the spirit’s wake

tears erode
this pallid surface
worthless feelings
ne’er abate

dulling
from the desert sun
has robbed me
of my own perception

burning shadows
stabbed my eyes
and stole her
from the moon’s reflection

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Drifting Into Ruin

our distance
belies summation

amid the sacred frivol
we chose
to quantify
ourselves

defiant
like the sentience
of existence

inundated
with the drivel
waning tides forgot
to tell

timeless dimensions
lay between
the worlds
within these walls

teemed with apprehension
we haplessly watch
verity unfurl

drifting
into ruin

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Retro-Spectrum

time
was the circumstance

that drove paper nails
through weightless
coffins

to think
we once knew

as desperately
we dangled
from tresses
of concession

composed of gold

which stretched
for many miles
beyond

the trenches
of our youth

i look now
upon days gone

eschewing

but nowhere
are you to be found

lost
perhaps

in the vaulted yonder

where obsidian
gaurds
the earthen tomb

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Transmuted

there are more thoughts
within this faint entropic masquerade
than will ever see the humility of expression
were that they could be fit for some metaphor
that might convey a sense of infinite eternity
alas, the landscape which bears the collective essence
of my earthly experience cycles in an orbit
as scant as the tip of this pen
I am but a mere fleck of fading ink
revolving around a feckless dash of happenstance
one that once saw fit to encompass
every fiber of my fleeting flesh
fortifying a form so feeble
with belief that life was far more
than just the sum of its paltry components
the feeling which fate is remissful to frivol
that which defines a purposeful flight
through this finite illusion
alluding to skies that touch freedom
where fear goes to rest
to say I had fallen would be folly
for such would imply that I was not
as flat to the ground when first I found footing
flooded with rains wrung from wrenched rumination
relinquishing all of my being
into hinterland arms of her wintry repose

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Great Big World*

beyond
my front door

lies a great
big world

more vast
than is humanly
comprehensible

a veritable cornucopia
of prospect propitious
and liberty endless

brimming
with untold
opportunity
and infinite possibility

for me

to swiftly
and precisely

meet
my ultimate
demise

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Through These Words

you will see
my pain

the endless hours spent

the triumph
of this misery

in a momentary squander

you may wander
through the pages torn

and wonder
how i speak your truth

the one
stayed by a stinging tongue

layered ‘neath a stolen sun
abeyant

at times
we will laugh together

rain may fall
on distant ground

and the secret
guarded smile
will have vanished
left untold

on the cusp
of thought symphonic
on the path
of parting stream

though we understand
the story

who we are
remains unseen

mystery becomes our warden
through these words
of sought reprieve

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A Pseudo Farm

with lackadaisical regard
i watch as they dwindle
one by one
and sometimes two
or more

i never formed
a reason to rhyme
until time descended
upon me
like a pornographic impulse

brew me another cup
of disillusionment
while you’re at it

that last one
nearly fit the bill

sometimes
i wonder if i actually will
or would
or could

of course,
there is no question
as to whether or not
i should

though i am
but a coward
in uncomfortable skin

i’ve worn out
since the day
the world informed me

as i swallow
more
to boredom’s pallor

like a Fuller Brush Man
in a town inhabited
by ghosts

where nothing hearkens
but the silence
that consumes me

as a void that lay
between two mirrors
spared of my own completion

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This Dream

i awaken
to words of kindness

from friends
and strangers alike

but there is nothing
strange about this pain
that we share

this bridge
we have all built

through the sorrows
of our time

grants us more
than a fleeting respite

as we gain
the understanding
that none are alone

that every struggle
affects us all

that our face is seen
our voice is heard
our truths, known

it is only in togetherness
do we stand
to court the hand
that bears the gift
of the morrow’s ingress

know, my friends
there are no strangers
among us

let us walk bravely
into vales
of unknown consequence

for love
shall harbor no secret

when its light
has finally shone

to guide us home

so it is, was
and shall ever be

this dream
e’er haunts humanity

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In That Darkness

it is only
in that darkness

unburdened
by the sun’s insistence

when the vilest
of creatures vanish

do we assemble

in legions
of hypnagogic afterthought

to worship our liege
of argent gloaming

like romans
in their own day

we take
to excess

to banish the dross
of existential blowoff

which echoes in these chambers
of mitochondrial horror

with implore aimed
at staying all tomorrows

whilst stranded
in the dregs
of yesterday

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