Of Poetry and Sound: Raw Free Verse of an Overthinker
Small talkin’
People dropping their story in resumes
I don’t want to know your
Graduating rank
The prestige you think
comes dripping off words
Words I never asked for
Like a moving target for some
Narcissistic folk-lore
They’re just measurements on paper
Recycled on every ear […]
Pick out your mask
From the Devil’s deck of cards
Leave behind a piece of you
Checked back at the door
This is the game of facade
Contagious Dancing Plague […]
Manic as stretched hours
Mixed metaphors flow
outside the lines
Blurry beautiful bleeding watercolors
One messy mosaic an offspring of time makes
Constantly quantifying life with
arbitrary measurements
Post miles along a carefully grafted check list
Come this cold winter’s bend
Uncle gets the first laugh
at year’s end
Enjoying the view
As the ten-ton steam train
Named Reality
Hurdles straight into
January resolutions
Sending financial plans spiraling
down to the penny-scrambled ground
Waiting for pittance paid Piper
Cradled in April
Commoditizing the human soul
To itemize each aching woe
on the tear-measured days
of the taxation craze
Look for why
and it’s only more elusive
Puffs of smoke caught
in shimmering reflection
Coursing
Curdling
Venom through my veins
Like the defenses of a snake
taking a bite in the face of adversity
Bile rising up
The emotions rot when
they are forced back under
with weighted chain, no key
A bottled ship too big for the glass
yet unable to escape
The original Elf-ed Shelves
Protecting lil’ dancing ballerinas
circa 1892
(Turn on music at the bottom for the full experience) Harpoon me through the heart In this river of sadness Pull me a million directions And I’ll know it as if it were my own Oh, tragic beauty of feeling for another This torture of empathy, a burden I won’t put down For I knowContinue reading “Empath”
Sensible, Nonsensical
Logic Unreliable
Will not compute
Harder to refute
The many little things
A thousand cuts, compounded
The oh so big things
Deeper wounds, but slowly so
On those icy morns
When the sun barely crests the ridgetop
The birds play their morning melody
Sweet siren song
Of the mountains
Those tealy hues are calling
While my toe ripples the water
Glancing off the top
Skirting by the polar depths
Of still lake waters
Kindled Shadow Poetry