February 2, 2015

Undercover

lost upon an empty plain

while all the while the tides of time

wax and wane, wax and wane

—

bushes burn, I take my turn

to roll among the balls of slime,

face against the windowpane

—

A genius is awoken,

But his fire he’s a-chokin’

—

rabbit holes and fishy bowls,

and splashing in a mossy grime,

ratty  rat’s amidst the moles

July 22, 2014

Claws

There is a helmet here

It’s precious gift is writer’s block

In a daze, a lazy fog

No choice but to stop

To cut out all the pretty talk

A static flow

Catching up the undertow

A pool within the living jaws

Macerating all that falls between

The air is thick and full of violence, or impotence, or impatience

Suffocating

May 20, 2014

New Shoes

Try to wrap your head around it
Fill your mind with someone else’s thoughts
Jump into another body
And let it all wash away
Down the drain
Claim enough shame to never be the same

Give it what you got
Until the point that
You’re someone that you’re not
And it will be like stepping into old familiar shoes

April 29, 2014

Softer Tides

Everyone loves the mask that I put on
But secretly
I’m exactly how I used to be

We go out and talk about
All the things we want to do
We want to be
Before our time is up
Before it’s gone
Some of us have up and left
And some of us are moving on

The center of attention always falls on me
But even then I’m in the corner
Trying to pretend
That this is fiction, this is false

The lies we love to try and live
Radiate like sun rays hit the moon
When it’s a sliver, like our heads are turned away
Then we part and head for home
      each into his own
We close our eyes, then rise and seize the day

Like a pack of fools

April 14, 2014

Blood Moon

I have this little voice in my head
that is telling me to stop. “Look over
here,” it implores. But no matter how
hard I try, I will not obey. I always
have the urge to pick up my chalice
instead. I press it to my lips, swig
deeply, swallow hard, then repeat. In my
mind, there is no tomorrow, only hollow,
breathless moments that comprise the
present, which soon will fade to gray,
then black, and then to reckless and
foolhardy oblivion. Grace be to the cup,
to the blood money, to the underhanded
pleasure, that I behave in such a way.

“Pardon, but did I not just bid you to leave?”
I ask in a faint whisper. “For is my
thought process not frail enough
without your interference?” Alas that
the voice will not avail; alas be not
to it, but to me. To myself I can
never offer freedom, neither within
nor without, but indulgence creeps
through the crack under my door. And
I invite it to stay, to come and
play, at least for a little while.

Fear.

Only a few days more, and I may
just last the year.

March 12, 2014

Seul

La seule chose qui me manque
C’est toi
Ton amitié, ainsi que ta foi

Ma main insecourable
Est alors ici
Pour que tu puisses la prendre

Vas-y donc et laisse-moi tranquille
Car la solitude m’inquiète
Cela envahit mon esprit

C’est ce que je n’aime jamais
Mais c’est ce à quoi
Je dois faire face