It's been awhile since I've posted a new poem on here. Figured I'd post one I wrote while thinking about quarantine back in January 2021. We heard the mist chewing, which didn’t make sense. How could mist, vapor, visible air, chew anything? But it was chewing, gnawing, devouring the meat, sinew, bones, memories, thoughts, fears, … Continue reading Life Outside – A Poem
Why is being the better person good for me? It doesn't help me sleep at night...Ambien does that. It doesn’t make me a stronger person; strength is irrelevant as useful as a bikini on an Inuit during the freezing winter in the deepest regions of the personalized hell I’ve constructed just for my future. This … Continue reading Goodman – A Poem
The tiger prowls in the reeds, slow, deliberate steps. It waits for me, on the periphery never venturing into my eyeline except for brief moments when my concentration wavers when my faith falters when my mind gives way to fatigue. It is always there, always waiting, always hungry. Amazon's Best Books of the Year
Flames above, I enter the water below. Gasping for breath, crying when I have it. Grasping an old wood bridge, cover from hellfire all ‘round. Children, flesh of my flesh, cling to each other like living life rafts, coughing stagnant water. I used to sit here, used to fish on clear, sweet days, but the … Continue reading Mind of its own – A Poem
Bringing down wrath like rays of sunshine, glimpsed through a break in the clouds. If only this was true for the truly wicked.
Running through the field the snow shows my tracks until the wind comes and wipes them away. It’s as if I was never here. How do I leave a mark? How?
The eagle has lost many feathers and its skinned is burned from the fires of ignorance. The eagle has lost many feathers and its feet are shackled with iron forged of lies. The eagle has lost many feathers but it will, given time, learn to fly again.
Dragging my feet as I near the finish line. Each step, a weighted leg ankle, knee, thigh… The ribbon wavers in the wind, the cheers around the marker are distant despite being as close as an embrace. I make it forward only through will because my body responds like I’m running through cement that is … Continue reading Finish the Race – A Poem
Total belief is the anchor tied around your ankles, your waist, your arms, digging into your flesh, leaving rope burns as you are dragged under the waves of ignorance, hidden shame, and the depths of despair.
The palace is being stormed, the populace has risen. But for what? A conclusion that could never be, like a dry spot at the bottom of the ocean or a breathable environment in the vacuum of space.