Poetry

Gut Punch

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Poem from my poetry chapbook: In the Feels

Gut Punch

Hit me like a punch
to my gut make my
lunch wanna come
back to see the light of
day and night and day
is almost over yet I
hover waiting for the
frozen inevitable that
hangs suspended in
reality like a piece
of pineapple in a jello
mold. It grows old, so
I’m told to hold your
breath for the unachiev-
able, the unbelievable but
the undeniable truth is
that we have nothing
else to do with the
knowledge that has been
crammed down our
throats. Open up here
comes the train, the
plane, this is insane
I can’t swallow, can’t
follow where you lead.
I can only see, can’t
move my feet. My eyes
won’t blink and I think
this is it, the end, but
I pretend it’s not. I
take a breath and blow
it out and the world
begins to move.

Frozen

 

Worrisome

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Poem from my poetry chapbook: In the Feels

Worrisome

I take it on like extra
weight that burdens me
and holds me back and
kills every part of me.

I hate to be the one always
holding the keys holding
the door holding the pen.

But weight is not easily
lost and nor can it be
shared with another who
can bear it in the dark.

Time and time and
time is not my friend
and I cannot extend
my hand to one who is.

Calm and tears go rounds
fighting for space on my
face crumpled like
yesterday’s newspaper
it is forsaken and it
is forgotten and it is
for me, always me.

And I lose the words
because they are not heard
are not learned are not
solved and their sound
to me is repulsive as a
sign of my never yielding
capacity to lie in wait
for that which will not
come to pass, come to
dance, come to an end.

River

 

Turn it Off

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I don’t know where
it comes from, this
anger I hold inside.

It boils and bubbles
to the surface before
I put the top on and
let the lobster boil.

It’s crazy and I’m
crazy to think it
could ever be something
I’m not. To dwell on
the facts instead of
reveling in the feelings
of it all. I know I’m
inhuman but you
don’t know what I am
or how to unplug me
from myself. I’m sorry
that you don’t. Just
don’t. But I can’t
guide you with my
eyes closed and I
can’t guide me with
my eyes shut.

DSCN2178

Sweet Light

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Joy so fleeting
Joy so sweet
Nectary syrup
of endorphins
and dreams

Come again and
tuck me in
with sheets of
spidery thread

Entrap me in
your sickening
foreign light

Bathe me with
your tongue
In the lap of
lucid luxury.

Spider Web

Feels

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There is a feeling
In my mind
That never touches
My heart
The notion that I
Can do this
A feeling that I
Can change
And yet it travels
To my chest
My gut
And resides
A lump
I cannot swallow it
And I cannot breathe
The air is fragile
It carries me
Onward and forward
Into a place
I cannot see
In my mind
Where my feels live
Where my heart
Ventures not
Is not welcome
And starts the cycle
Again
Tingling my toes
Climbing up and up
Bypassing
The useless organ
Traipsing over
Tripping over
Hills and valleys
To root in my head
Where it starts.

Feather

 

Selfish Fish

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This poem is a piece from my new poetry chapbook, In the Feels. It is available on Amazon for $2.99 and includes 20 original pieces that have never been posted on by website before (except for the one below that I’m posting now!). You can also read it for free if you’re a Kindle Unlimited subscriber. Thanks for your support!

 

Selfish Fish

At what point does
your selfishness set
you free from your
guilt and disgustation?
When does your center of
gravity shift to include
someone besides yourself
someone besides anyone
but you who love
and love and love with
only your mouth.
Tell me how to go foreword
and not let the
violent current overtake
me and carry my
helpless body along the
mad ride pushing me
under the surface
where only you can
breathe, where only you
can be, can see, not me.
Swirling, twirling,
tumbling rocks dashed
on rocks with no soft
sand to land. Lend me
your hand that I may
lead you from the dark
depths of you and into
the part of you I know
can be better.

 

To Fly

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How to fly with
Clipped wings
Moving with
clumsy hesitance
unsure if they
should flap
or let the fall
happen.

Breathing
no time for thought
for times fought
with blind passion
and stone solid
convictions
no restrictions
to keep it back
to shield
to protect
a clear lane
unfettered with
life’s clear conscious.

Alive, the ever
changing world
in which we
live in makes
us want to give
up and fly.

Try every day
in every way
to be someone
who flies
but time
and again
I must rise
from the ashes
soaring high
making passes
high above all
and above all
remembering there
is something
and someone
I must do.

Mushrooms grow
and die in the
dank dark and I
prepare to live
and die in the
light if it
will have me
it it will
bathe me
in soft
fluorescent
light.

Image by: DTL (http://mrg.bz/AsSBzi)

Image by: DTL
(http://mrg.bz/AsSBzi)

 

Decide

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Banging my head
Against unmoving walls
Chasing wild geese
That have long since gone
Turning in circles
For all to see
Flying high
I can see below
Hit the ground
I just don’t know
Choices, like bees
Buzz around my head
Stinging and flying
Hurting and dying
Skin that aches
With my indecision
Stomach drops
It’s time.

Image by: tucows (http://mrg.bz/c4IlPR)

Image by: tucows
(http://mrg.bz/c4IlPR)

With Wings

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With wings it flies
Up into the night
Currents and rain
To fight through

Gliding and striving
with every beat
not making very
much headway

Strength wears thin
Drive dies within
can’t go as high
as I thought I could
with wings.

Image by: NatureWorks (http://mrg.bz/tqQHY3)

Image by: NatureWorks (http://mrg.bz/tqQHY3)

Many

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How many times
Can I say I’m sorry
For something I
Did not do

How many ways
Can I show
My love for someone
Who isn’t true

How many nights
Should I lay awake
Waiting for your
Arms to hold me

As many as it takes
Too many for my sake
I shall wait
In eternity.

Image by: Clarita (http://mrg.bz/OQ3I7U)

Image by: Clarita (http://mrg.bz/OQ3I7U)