Darkness,
Climbing, pulling void.
Questions with no answers,
Clawing at the soul.
Nails ripping,
Entering,
Gripping,
Crushing the heart.
Fills the body.
Tears,
Strips the soul,
Widening the hole
Of doubt
And emptiness.
Possess the being.
Darkness.
Him
He is the sea and I am the shore.
He flows as wild and free as the white-capped waves
and I, as confined and unmoving as the stagnant land
He is the sky and I am the earth.
He soars as swiftly and unpredictably as the mischevious wind
and I, as compact and caged as the senile platelets.
He is the moon and I am the sun.
He changes as constantly and distinctly as the waxing moon
and I, as alone and consistent as the daily sun.
He is the soul and I am the body.
He feels as deeply and richly as his wild spirit
and I, as lifeless and shallow as my earthbound corpse.
who
who
will stop
this eneding circle
of joy
and pain
of love
and brokenness
of peace
and chaos
of life?
who?
Why
why
am i
doing this
torturing myself
until i am brittle
burning
combusting
all because
i can’t stop.
Dead Poets Society
First there was the new kid
Thoughtful, logical, and shy.
He dreamt of a sweaty toothed madman
His YAWP rang through the sky
Next there was his roommate
The passionate, dreaming Puck.
He tried to live his dream, but
His father kept him stuck
Then there was the lover,
Persistent, brave, and kind.
He read her poems and brought her flowers,
He refused to leave her behind.
Fourth, there was the giant,
With an unfortunate name.
A man with a love of music,
Bound in a literal frame.
Nuwanda, the next boy,
Overflowed with confidence.
He talked to God once or twice,
And rushed to his friends’ defense.
The traitor of the group,
Crowned with the fires of hell,
Turned on friends to save himself,
Nuwanda wished him well.
Last there was the Captain,
The wisest of them all.
He taught them to be extraordinary,
His teaching brought his fall.
And so the Dead Poets Society
Was convened so all could say
“Make your lives extraordinary!
Carpe Diem! Seize the day!”
Only
Never be young again
Never grow old
Never be here again
Never be gone
Never forgotten
Only remembered
Pain
Pain
In her eyes
He cracks a joke
She doesn’t hear
He tells her to live
She wants to die
He dries her tears
She buries her pain
She left him
But she will never leave him
He buries his pain
She dries his tears
He wants to die
She tells him to live
He doesn’t hear
She cracks a joke
In his eyes
Pain
Alone
Dark night
Long fall
Cold slap
Relief.
REFLECTION
I asked my reflection what his name was
I wondered if he could see the way
But he didn’t respond
Just kept staring at the pond
His mouth forming every word that I say
I asked my reflection for an answer
To the questions that I would never say
But he didn’t respond
His face stayed in the pond
And I pondered “Is it worth throwing away?”
I asked my reflection for a meaning
A reason to stay here day by day
But he didn’t respond
So I lay down in the pond
And he watched a lifeless corpse float away
I asked my reflection what was happening
A light shown all around, a beaming ray
But he didn’t respond
As he rose out of the pond
And in this barren space with me he lay
Owl
in the dark, soft feathers
small head, large eyes
turning
who?
who?
and I sit, thinking
who?
this unending question of existence
echoed by all of nature
who?
and as I sit
I am submerged
into the dark
into the soft “who?”
and when I come up
I am alone
but fulfilled
peacefully contemplating
who?
Veritas 