I have a few poems that I’ve written, and because I never actually plan on becoming a published author, posting them here seems to be an okay idea. Some people have been asking for me to post them, but I fear rejection. I fear that they aren’t that good enough to actually be shared with anyone. Alas, I feel like I’m in a giving mood, so I decided to share. Be gentle, and don’t steal. They are mine, after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moving Hands Count
give everything, every time.
seeding back and forth
minutes for hours and,
sometimes days.
soliloquy of carouser
hammering side to side
up alleys, behind aphotic corners
all adequacy dissolves.
asinine grasps
between enervated legs
plunge at pinnacle point
to bust nothingness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Thanks to my poetry writing group, I produced this one)
No Heir
the ebony wood, the carmine floor
ancestry meandering through crevices
through floorboards,
merging and seeping through.
frugal hearts left cardiac
incredible agony, taught ribbons
pins and needles through
shattered anamnesis,
albeit a sieve
sticking a light tool
of ascendancy by a forager
like a raccoon digging through a cart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know not what I do, what I want
deep sea changes mantle shelves,
stirring indefinitely beneath crashing
oceanic tides,
creating trenches and valleys
under unyielding pressure.
a fearless sea
wild unclenched empathy
fracture coastal shores.
like broken judgments
destructive promises
furtive trysts,
flow amorous aspirations
waving with enticement,
lapping up good conscious
with liaisons, cataclysmic lips
enthralling, tangled excitement
of oxidized, copious
magnetism.
ebb and flow
of pertinacious longing,
whitecaps of the sea bursting from
monotony and placidity,
fueled by
blazoned sensation,
of wants, not needs.
of yes, and more,
left shipwrecked
floating ashore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
all that i am, i am for you
freedom king
bring me a fresh egg
it breathes new life
thrill me, oh
freedom king
watch me dance
i’ll toe the line
just for you
freedom king,
you hold the key.
you are the oppressor
the dictator
you are my captor
i am your thrall
i bend for you
and your desire
like a ballerina
in a box
i twirl and spin
perfectly
i want to escape
not to be found
king, oh, freedom
chip this stoned mask
off my face
give me new eyes
so that i may see
freedom king
burn the past
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winter Cyclones
at twilight in winter woods I stand among trees.
knee deep in ethereal snow
I feel January blow her frigid breath
and send a chill across the earth’s ground.
her winter grasp covers trees,
decorating their branches with ice, frost – snow.
the only sound is my breath and my heart.
as the winter wind howls,
it lifts the snow from the ground in little cyclones
sending the snow flakes dancing.
she can be callous,
bringing with her a frost bit charm
air crowds my lungs with frost
a pain so inordinate it tightens my chest
I can feel her anger seep inside
January reminds me
every year
of the a life that once was.
She never meant to be so cold,
never meant to bleed her sorrow –
unjustly she took from me
what was not hers to take
the ever stretching tree branches grow quite heavy
with the pressure
there is a mystery in her,
she plays you quite coy
January will not part with my memories
I cannot part with her.
