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Hauling my own dead-weight Over the shoulders of a mountain, The way back is an illusion, Slipping out of my grasp – One foot before the other Is the entirety of my world Here and now Among these featureless Hours and days – The quiet realm before the storm Is full of scripture and…
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We exchange our fragments of the world Across the dining room table Our voices on the rise, Out of gravity’s hands – Fighting off the enclosing snares of dusk, We shuffle pieces of our lives Gently back into place – Our great fable unfolds Slowly woven together Every night our words pour With the…
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I’ll return to the life I sank from In a fearful spiral, From the torn tapestry Weaving itself back together – In the wake of mass agony When our stripes bleed as one, I’ll resurface brand new In the ebb and flow – When the earth has finished seething And cursing our rise…
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I’m as heavy as a fallen tree branch Consumed by a river, Being dragged from the pain Of frayed limbs outstretched – As grey and as brazen As a seaside cliff Unfazed By the dark tide’s evening call – As far away as the veil Of a mountain storm Its glimmers of lightening Forgotten…
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One tablet a day To drown out the fury of revolt To cool the inferno To mend the shattered calm – The remedy lands Blasting upon impact Rising and blossoming As a noxious cloud – “All clear” rings out From lonely corners of the psyche And desolation sweeps Over an anguished body – One tablet…
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The spaces between sentences expand When we’re stranded together, On the same brittle patch Of our crumbling isle – We both fight to pry The heavy verses from our minds, To exhale the trapped fumes Still billowing through our bodies – The quiet moments hover As our phantom reminder, Of how our tyrants barked…
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The shadows looming large in the cellar Trade complaints in whispers Passing into midnight Full of tremors and carnage – Their bandaged bodies Ache with fever-dreams of falling Spent iron still burning In their flesh and marrow – These scarred young minds Plume gently at last, While simmering in debate Of what will become of…
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A home, Plunges into stillness No one speaks From their separate illusions, Consumed by hidden perils – Fluent in their own verses They stray to their corners Where their locked away colors Flood the frames on the walls – No one dares to speak As they breeze past each other, Hurrying to the warmth…
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The bottle sits tall on the nightstand Awaiting her kiss A farewell to the vessels Sunk in oblivion – Ruptured from the inside By her bittersweet spell The warm depths receive them Babbling of their youth – Some rise and float on Others turn to bones Jutting out of the sand Still screaming…
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I’ve been told Bury your tragedies In the pit of your stomach With the sharp pains of shame That ripple through your mind – I’ve been told a man’s soul Never swarms with worry, He bears weight of the world As it grinds him into dust – I’ve been sold small morsels…
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