Poetry from past and present
Excuses, excuses, And at the root of it all, self doubt.
Tab upon tab sit at my finger clicks.
“Research” pulled up. A road map of jettisoned tangents.
A nap. A nap will give my mind a pause, a relief, rest.
Wrapped up and warped
My mind, a contagion
Of self pitying despair
Tempered by moments of laughter
For it’s hard not to laugh
When all else is lost.
Back and forth
She rocks
As she sobs
Alone in the dark
But for a multicolored Tiffany lamp set on low.
X-mas lights abandoned, hastily dumped into a box,
just ready to be done with
at the time.
we see upon his fading crown
that it must take us all
we put at bay true contemplation of
or use it to think only of the now
Death
The spring air permeated with humidity,
Its aroma seeps in
Around the windows and under the doors.
The air shudders as the thunder rolls.
I hold a paper thin wafer of wheat aloft
Scarlet droplets spew forth from the cracked corpus,
Held by a like minded disbelieving priest from centuries past
Eyes flash open, only to see
The virginal white of the altar cloth before me
There’s someone sitting in this room,
sitting next to me though she feels not the impending doom.
It comes from the sky;
unseen by the eye.
The music plays blocking the subtle noise
In the darkness it keeps it’s poise.
The swirling winds being to grow,
the radio no longer blocks out the blow.
Night
Here I am again
Late at night
Alone, all by myself
With the hate and anguish
Self inflicted,
They say I’m gifted
Gifted at this,
The pain and sorrow
Lost on those who think
It’s all I do
Unopened Eyes
I look at the world through unopened eyes
The darkness abiding, Can’t see my demise
I’m an unintelligible individual, All of us are
We go through this life, All alone as we are
Brandoyd! 