If solidarity were enough,
I would write until my fingers bleed.
No.
If it made a difference, I would cry,
for every broken heart
and soul.
No.
I am speechless, I am distant,
but I am not silent
and that is not enough.
No.
More.
Category Archives: Bits
Notes From The Underworld
Motivation
Let their derision fuel your passion.
Coagulant
Our ancestors sold the future
for convenience. Now,
we waste away,
fighting for peace of mind.
Addicted
Scribd Twofers: A poem and an essay
Art
Shapes in raw granite, a person. An unaware, apathetic block- head staring blankly in the mirror, hammered and sanded. From top to toe, mouths run - collecting minerals - dribbling away. Forward springs life, etching down the drain. Rock chips stumble over each other. Dust finds home on rough edges - inevitably the floor, cracks in my dry, clay-soaked hands, and cloth folds wherever paint doesn’t already cling. The eyes: pained, long set. A muscular beauty, the rest, one casual greeting at a time. In and out of days, nights fitting somewhere between, apparently. I work.
The Process x River People
Settling my hand on a bur oak’s bare chest. Flailing distantly for the giving reach and feeling encouragement from limestone crevices beneath - I leap. Hints of living where fish swarm in silver darts for lunch and never hunger. She holds enough. They have two children in thick, wool hats. A transparent bond below a howling dog’s wounded voice caroling softly across the bristling stones.
Siren
Listening to your voice, I wonder how many beautiful poems I’ve hated listening in mine.
Preposterous Ponderings: iii.
Certainty:
A crutch we use
to reassure ourselves
everything is okay.
But it already was,
because things are
and thus, already
as they should be.
Optimism
What if tomorrow sucks?
I’ve already had worse days.
What if they don’t want me?
I’ve moved on before.
What if…?
No. What if.