“Don’t say anything!” spoke the shadow in the doorway. I was seven years of age. I lay limp upon the couch, still recovering from
Cast adrift in an unknown sea. By my pride. Alone Missing you,
There are no pictures on these wal… no mountain lakes nor sailing ship… Not long ago there were no walls Life was lived outside your window… I’d tried to live within four wall…
I hide here behind a genuine misbelief that I am special, I am different I and only I
My father is dead, still he speaks through me; “Don’t say anything....OR ELSE!… There was plenty of “OR ELSE!” to go around.
Listen. There it is. The hum of perfect silence at the centre of all that is, and isn’t.
I am crying now. I don’t know why. Am I supposed to know why it is I cry ? Though I always feel
I read such woeful words penned by a fallen brother; his message cut me deeply. He prayed to all that’s holy that he might cry again.
While in repose, still and silent, it is not nothing that I hear. Subtle whispers
My beloved, she has abandoned me. What’s left is a stark white canva… that repels application of hue or… Hopelessly, I gaze into the bleak… She is gone,
Why are you here ? Where did you come from ? Why have i been cursed with one so radiant and true ? There’s no time for your curious m…
Ideas and notions, they’re all for the dreamers, worth as much or less than one's considered opinion. You can’t even wrap fish in them.
I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…
Your end? My end? Where the hell’s the middle? You say this. I say that.
Not a poem. I hurt; like a Frankenstein monster. Iron fist. Unrelenting.
