The poems come out all the time
Covered in the grime of rhyme.
That sense-obscuring goop
That doesn’t give a hoop about
My quest for the sublime.
There’s a word stuck between my ribs
Like spinach stuck in teeth
I try to scratch it out but no
It’s formed a bump beneath
My skin that I can feel when I breath in
In the morning with flickering eyes
I feel it dance around my brain
But once my lids are open full
It’s back beside my lungs again.
Often sounds nice
And we stick it on our wall
And make no change at all.
The death wish slumbers deep in me
Rentless tenant I cannot see
Until it rises, wings ablaze
To rain ammonia on my days
The well-worn roads in my mind
Make for all too easy repetition
Potholed with old foes
Seeping through hard-lain concrete
But I want new terrain
Fresh and sturdy
And though those tracks remain
I’ll take the right path
Knowing that I’m worthy
I wanna wear my ribs like wings
And sink into the knot of things.
The Not of things where nothing reigns
And tyranny of time restrains.
Our brains retrain and cast adrift
All useless thoughts
All anxious shifts
And all we are can breathe anew
Beneath the scrolling ageless blue.
I am that which cannot be written
A dancing sylph I am too blinded
By the sun to see.
My truest self might be a lion, dozing under a tree.
To sink, though weightless, into Un-Doing
To swim in the silence and not be missed
To relax the constant compulsive accruing
And not to feel so thoroughly un-kissed.
She lifted up the shattered rocking horse like the Pieta and she knew she would not mourn it as much as she had expected to and she smiled.
I fell into love as I’d dreamt as a child it would feel to live inside a cloud
But the cloud melted to rain
And now I’m left
cold and shivering
With a heart that will never be the same
I clean my desk because my person is a mess
Bowels cannot relax on cue
Head wrung out in cold fugue
But the pencils form their queue
The rainbow represent and correct
And my outside space is energised
Though inside I’m wrecked.