Poetry Monday

October 9, 2017

I Wonder Why.

The miracles I’ve
often witnessed in my life
take no steady shape.

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Poetry Monday

October 2, 2017

Allegorical Alliteration Allotting Action

Standing stuttering stupid symbolic syllogisms.
Whilst willingly wiling with whimpering wonder.
Hurriedly half hating.
In ill intent.
Ever endeavoring endlessly.
Listlessly lumbering, lying livid.
Broken, beaten, berated, boyish.
Constantly cursing catastrophe.
Ending eventually.
Or.
Yelling yield, yield.
Xenodochial Xerxes.

 

Poetry Monday

December 5, 2016

Here’s a new one for you. See if you can guess what the poem is referring to. It’s describing something that everyone has. A desire that holds all of us captive. Enjoy.

Condition

Reckless abandon,
but really, it’s not.

You’re consumed with something,
and even you don’t see it.

You’ve abandoned nothing,
open your eyes.

The reflection it stirs.
You’re captivated.
Refusing to remove yourself.

You hate it.
You love it.
You are engrossed by it.

There is no escape.
You never let it go.
It is simply ingrained.

It’s within all.

Poetry Monday

November 28, 2016

Written: March 26, 2013

Untitled

There are good times,
there are bad.
Holding on to troubles will
only make you sad.

What are you looking for,
for what are you searching?
Staying happy is all I wish for
you because you are hurting.

I care of your love,
I care of your hate.
To where it is directed,
I cannot assimilate.

I pray for clarity,
whatever the cost.
So that you might smile,
once more and oft.

Poetry Monday

November 21, 2016

Now I want to leave you all a note before you read this. At first glance it might seem incredibly offensive, and while it’s not meant to be, you could still struggle with what I’m getting at. I would suggest you pay attention to the meanings of the vocabulary I make use of, and I hope that you can appreciate a different perspective on this very serious and very sensitive subject.

Depression

A languish luxury
of the First World kind.
Afforded to those
that have the time,

to sit and think
to laugh and rhyme,
with every convenience
that makes life sublime.

They reside in the west,
men and women, depressed.
Leaving their coddled shell
feels like a difficult climb

even when there are stairs
conveniently cut,
but they would complain,
“They are covered in slime!”

It’s depression
and it feels like grime.

It’s depression
a languish luxury
of the First World kind.

Poetry Monday

November 8, 2016

Untitled

Headache.
Heartbreak.
Breath,
intake.
Ache.

Unclear.
Mistake?

They travel down from above,
the mind made sore.
The conscience wanders,
farther from a bore.

Hold fast,
be patient.
Hold on,
expectation.

Tribulation.
Question of,
designation.
Any consummation?

Unclear.
Mistake?

Why fake?
There is fear of inevitable heartbreak.
It inhabits its own place.
Its own space.
Its race.
Its face.

Unclear.
Mistake?

Everything is at stake.