Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Feathery Hope

Tuesday, January 16th, 2018

A fragile and feathery hope grows in my chest
It tickles my ribcage and brushes against my cheeks
Like the kiss of a bird’s wing as it takes flight.
The moment suspended
Between the weight of the world
And the unburdened sky.

Small and tender hearted
This alien thing grows inside of me.
At night I feed it quietly with whispered dreams
And words I am too afraid to say aloud.
I do not yet know whether it will become
Friend or foe to me as it grows.

My mind crushes it slowly with sharp edges
Predicted in the cloudy sphere
Of crystal balls and etched lines in overworked palms.
But still at night, when the lights have disappeared
It is just me and the nascent hope
Evolving to be something more than me.

I refuse to let it die but only acknowledge it
In moments of secrecy stolen between
Sorrow and high-soaring ecstasy.
If I look it in the eye and declare its name
It may just consume me whole
Before I know how to control the chaos it brings.

I know I have been unfair to you
Born of such happiness and light
But forced to be a creature of darkest night;
I made you into this monster
Out of the fear that if I held you too tight
You would disappear faster than a bird taking flight.

Now you are with me forever
Etched into every bone
Like the words of a love letter
That never found a heart to call home.
This ribcage you once inhabited
Transformed into a cage you will never escape.

I feel you waking up again
Testing the limits of your confines
With a wingspan broader than the horizon.
I hear you tapping against my bones
A morse code warning of all we could be
Or a threat that soon you may break free.

My chest creaks under the pressure of your presence
Small yet persistent, this fragile thing
Begins to break through my bones
Like a flower growing through the cracks in the pavement
Yearning for the sun’s light and fresh air.
I can contain you no longer.

Will this creature be beautiful or broken?
Maybe it will be a bit of both.
Heavy with my whispered dreams and secret hopes
Will it be able to take flight?
My fragile and feathery hope takes wing
Leaving me behind to wonder at our small destiny.

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Hive Mind

Saturday, January 13th, 2018

The bees have infested my brain again
Rattling around within my skull
Like a ricochet bullet
Unwilling to settle on damaging a single target.
They fill my mind with vibrations
like a tremor behind my eyes
Like a precursor pressure
Waiting to crack open my head
When the real earthquake hits
Releasing the infestation of my mind
Upon the world that was never prepared
For this devastation that I have lived with
Everyday like a close companion
Or a haunting voice whispering in your ear
Words you do not want to hear.

The sound of silence is alien to me,
I would not know how to live without
The pressure built up behind my eyes.
Living like a ticking time bomb
Dangerous and frightening but existing
So close to death it makes you more alive
In the end, In the end, In the end
The monster you live with becomes tolerable
Because it is your monster, your pain personified
So you can give your struggle a name.
Transform your enemy into the tangible
Since a battle can only be won
When your opponent is real,
Otherwise you are fighting an endless war
Between you and yourself
Where everyone loses and the fight is your life.

I am the Queen of the hive in my mind
But my own swarm holds me hostage
Encasing me in sweet tasting honey
And lulling me to sleep with the rhythm
Of their hypnotic song;
Entranced by the foot soldiers of an army
I never chose to lead
I cannot escape the buzzing inside my brain
Because we are now two parts of one entity.
They are as much a part of me now
As a mosquito trapped in amber
Fossilized for all of eternity
A trinket of mortified antiquity;
You cannot set them free without breaking
The beautiful creation we became.

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Jagged Edges

Tuesday, January 9th, 2018

The jagged edges of me
Clash up against fluidity;
Unrelenting shattering.
Shards of ice caught
Between land and sea
Where lines blur to reveal
Snow blankets everything.
Only the tall stand above
The war of attrition
Between the changing tides
And the bedrock beneath.

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Elysium Red

Sunday, January 7th, 2018

Virgin snow collapses under a heavy foot
Like sand washed away from a steep embankment
By waves impatient of passing time.
Footprints dug deep below the surface
Only to be covered by the next snowfall;
Man lacks permanence in a place such as this.

Translucent diamonds fall from the soft blue sky
Sharp and glinting in sunlight
That offers no warmth or respite from biting winds.
Tree limbs grow heavy with new white robes
Bowing before the might of Winter
With sideways eyes on far away Spring.

He pulls his feet from the earth
Only to plunge them instantly back into the deep;
An endless repetition of slow but sure
Forward progress that breaks the line
Between man’s land and Nature’s untouched garden.
The trail he treads marks a boundary line
Many have approached, but few have overcome.

A chill runs down his spine leaving his hair
Standing at attention without reason;
Caught between Winter’s grip and something
More primal that calls to the heart
Dragging the modern into the primitive mind of fear.
How small we become when we realize
The world is not ours to inhabit –at least not ours alone.

The twig snaps like a leg caught in a hunter’s trap,
He halts and listens with attentive ears.
The sound of Winter’s silence echoes loudly
Even a breath would disturb the crisp air
Cracking it like thin ice with the slightest exhale –
Dead silence reigns here, disrupted
Only by the sound of softly falling snow.

He turns again to continue down the path he chose
Only to again feel the haunting of the unknown
Creeping up behind him, wearing the silence like a cloak
Shrouded in mystifying white and revealed only by instinct
Felt acutely by the hunted when they have been marked as prey.
He knows he is followed by the ghost of something
But cannot name the adversary walking in his shadow.

A flash of red jumps out of the colorless scenery
Existing only on the periphery of sight
As the blurry edged undefined and unrelenting embodiment
Of all that leaves man powerless and afraid.
A phantom dancing just beyond what the eye can see
But the mind remembers as a timeless enemy.

As the man turns once more to seek out the sound stalking him
He is faced with the nothingness of a barren landscape
And his own footprints marring the pristine face of the wilderness;
Except now the first evidence of pursuit is present:
Laid atop his tracks stood the careful footprints of another,
But no sign of the creature that left them behind.

Whirling around to face forward once more
Hoping to escape the encroaching presence
Only to be confronted with the intense yellow eyes of his pursuer.
Standing in the path before him, a red tailed fox –
Royal coat, piercing eyes, black tipped ears keenly listening
Blocked the man’s path with the towering presence
Of a primal Queen who’s dominion has been challenged.

Frozen in place by the sudden appearance of this image of majesty,
Man stands facing the wild
Not knowing whether to continue his journey or turn away.
The fox tilts its head from side to side with curiosity,
Listening to the sound of one who once belong here
But was lost to another world long ago.
Not knowing whether he be friend or foe
She takes a cautious step forward.

She walks atop the snow, gliding gracefully forward
Her movements sound like the swaying of the trees.
The man slowly reaches out his ungloved hand toward the red spirit
She hesitates, paw hanging midair, head tilting to listen
Hearing his heart as it beats thunderously in his chest.
So close, the man stretches farther locked in her lightning eyes
When just as suddenly as she appeared, into the periphery she vanishes.

Left with hand outstretched, slowly filling with snowflakes
Gently kissing his open palm regretfully
The man is left haunted by the red ghost that almost felt real
If only he could have touched it and held it close
For a moment longer than Eternity.
Instead, the silence of winter surrounds him once more
And the Elysium he glimpsed returns to the realm of myth.

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Small Life Grows Here

Wednesday, January 3rd, 2018

Be careful where you tread
Small life grows here.
Fragile yet persistent
Chances of success
Wax and wane constantly.
Look closely
Don’t miss the tiny opportunity
To witness something
Greater than yourself.
A tree can grow
With roots born from stone.

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Posted in Photos, Poetry |

Gone for So Long

Monday, October 30th, 2017

I know I have been gone for so long now
And I was gone long before you noticed my absence;
Long before the words stopped appearing on the page
Life took me in and swallowed me whole.
Before I realized that the dream was really
A monster waiting with epic patience
And a growling gut with my name written
On the insides of its being, etched into its bones.
It was born for me and I for it.

I thought this my beautiful escape but was disappointed to see
Avoidance is a trap with a honey tongue but maggots for eyes.
I tried so hard to be something that I am not
But lost all that was beautiful in me along the way.
You cannot strip back the rotting flesh of apathy
Without carving into yourself a permanent well
Filled to the brim with blood that becomes a scar on your being.

Who I was will always be who I am
No matter how far I run or how often I raise my eyes to the sky
I replaced my chains with rosary beads binding me to a book
That weighed me down like an anchor at the bottom of the sea
My pursuit always just out of reach
Finger tips grazing the surface, trying to catch sunbeams
But I only find the bubbles of my evaporating breath.

I have been gone for so long now
I am no fool. I know I can never go back to where I was
But I will do my best to pick up the pieces
To build something new from the wreckage of myself.
I was a shipwreck cracked in half out at sea
The broken parts of me lost somewhere becoming a coral reef,
Let my bones be the home of some new creature.
I cannot wait to meet this thing born from the ashes of me.

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Posted in Poetry |

Isaiah’s Flame

Wednesday, May 15th, 2013

Sirens wail within the walls of these catacombs
Reaching through the permeable loom
And its outstretched strings weaving together
A city of countless threads thinking they stand
Independent from the unraveling yarn.
But if we burn the end and watch the fire swallow the coil
We will all burn together
This masterpiece going up in flames
Like the greatest bonfire of being
That ever burst forth from the abyss of this abysmal world
The powerful and strong will not reason
The reckoning flame away
That flicker of the snakes tongue can taste the air
Filling with heat, the crackle and pop of thread
Being split in twain
But just alike, both will burn together.

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Fool’s Trick

Sunday, May 12th, 2013

photo 5

The Old Name had died of a Fool’s trick that was perfect.

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Deep-Sea Waters

Saturday, May 11th, 2013

photo 4

Hit the floor like a shot to the mind set in deep-sea waters.

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Surreal Silence

Friday, May 10th, 2013

photo 3

Enjoy the dark calm, There’s no surreal silence crying for a bullet to the head.

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