Not angsting really, just reworking some old stuff. See the old version “Match.” Sand I dislike the unlit match the beach sand clear dry air and new concrete. They’re dull, sandy, boring. I much prefer the fire for its warmth and pain the burning salt as it reminds me of the throbbing waves of life the moist must of after-showers to clump my pieces together and the perfect, fresh scrape of a youthful knee on well-worn concrete. Sand lets it go by and skitter away but I want it to stay and I’d say that’s worth the pain. Advertisements Continue reading Poems again
throb throb throb–
brain, eyes, heart.
Continue reading Poem: In a Pillow
Next stop: Indulgent-and-cryptic-as-hell City Continue reading Concrete Sky
two versions of “Diluted Depression” inspired by the phrase but completely unrelated to each other.
“Squelch and puck” Continue reading Aftermath – hey look another poem
“The speedy mechanical snail leaves its graphite trail…”
Continue reading Some Poems
Better to be burned,
than remain dull, sandy, boring.
This was much more interesting. Continue reading Match – a poem
A Room and a Hallway Away She cowers under her covers, sensing a rising commotion, a room and a hallway away. Voices ring hoarse from the razor edge of malice. Only her sister’s though. Mother is unperturbed, accustomed. She hears nothing, neither the hate nor the reason. They are bitter words from a sweet girl. She swallows her sour guilt, blaming the salt on her face, the fire in her eyes. It leaves a bad taste in her sister’s mouth. The air between them fills with subtle, foul breath. So she smells her pillowcase instead, relishing a rare, scentless fragrance. She … Continue reading A Room and a Hallway Away – a poem