Posted in Poems

The Thresh

I passed an unborn threshold
Into a place unheard
It left a mark untold
And made my vision blurred
Almost like a blindfold
Or a broken, sightless bird
I sat with eyes controlled
And a face made absurd
Once I sat here freely
Not yet had I crossed that line
Yet the words were light and breezy
Simple, known, and confined
I once would walk with wonder
Through a world of my design
Yet now I sit in blunders
Searching for the sublime
In a world gone mad with madness
A world concerned with time
I looked for a final meaning
A sensible, final rhyme
But now the story wanders
At least in this world of mine
For I crossed that unborn threshold
That lacks to self-define
Once I wrote with fury
Knowing my way throughout
Yet the future is all but blurry
And I’ve no idea what it’s about
So if you are writer
A being of unsaid words
Don’t make your work a cypher
Don’t make your dialogue slurred
Allow yourself to wonder
At the time and place you’re in
For before you even know it
The story, it will end

Posted in Poems

Rain

I used again last night
I started and turned up the light
For the world in which I reside
Is much too dark for drug lit eyes
I inhaled, took it in
Like it was nothing but air
I sipped, I gulped
Like I had plenty to spare
I poked, I prodded
I raised myself high
I smiled and nodded
And burst through the sky
It flowed through my blood
As this poem does now
It made up a flood
Of revelations somehow
It made its way through
Every crack of my brain
Until my eyes opened
To look out at the rain
Leaning forward, I saw
Though with much strain
A young woman who stood there
In the midst of the rain
She wore a black dress
And stared with disdain
Wondering if
My hands I’d restrain
And the rain, it poured
In buckets and jugs
Like a joker who plays
With aces and clubs
But the woman, she stood
Like a tree in the ground
Planted with might
By a heart once made sound
The rain, it would part
Of this I was sure
But the woman would not
She’d stand and endure
From forest to forest
The world it would change
And there she would stand
Lost and estranged
But for now, we both eyed
As we froze, wet with rain
The bodies we denied
And that pleasurable pain
Together, we were torn
But in one mighty sweep
The effects, they were worn
And I awoke from a sleep
Now perhaps this all
Took place in a dream
Erupting from
Some midnight scene
But as I laid there
Trying to breathe
I saw her walk in
A beauty unforeseen

Posted in Poems

Underglasses

Turn your glasses upside down
You’ll see a smile, not a frown
Walk through the woods of clouds and doom
And see what lies beneath the gloom
The glass you filled the other day
It’s not empty or full, it’s just halfway
The friend that you just turned away
Loves much more than words would say
So take these glasses
Turn them ’round
See the truths
That you had drowned
The world that you refuse to see
Is a world unhinged by you and me
The fate you hate, that destiny
It won’t upheave your reality
Just take those glasses
Flip them upside down
And see the masses
Underground

Posted in Poems

Chestnut

Last night was an interesting one
If a night deserved a description
I’d describe it as burnt and overdone
Like a work of overused fiction
The night was dark, just like any other night would be
But in the shadows, I saw
A man who looked like me
But his hands were charred to a crisp
And his eyes, they could not see
So I remained a quiet one
Observing from behind a tree
He did not stumble
Through the woods that darkness plagued
He seemed filled up with confidence
As if he clearly knew the way
He depended not on his senses
Which is sensible, I suppose
For the senses only show us
What’s right in front of our nose
He walked this way and that
He was searching, looking for what?
Then distinctly I heard him mutter
“Dear god, where is my chestnut?”
So this man who looked like me
This man who could not see
He was looking for a chestnut, apparently
So he’d scrounge about in the leaves
Then look behind a tree
While I stood there just watching
Watching the man who looked like me
The woods, they were not eerie
This is important, you must understand
That the forest was not scary
It was instead, oddly out of hand
Almost like an orange grove
That hasn’t been pruned in ages
Yes, the oranges may taste delicious
But the grove, my god, how outrageous
And that’s how this forest felt
It was decrepit, lost, and old
It hadn’t been seen in centuries
It was hidden, quiet, untold
Only two men had touched it
A man and his apparent clone
A clone with severely charred hands
And eyes that were burned at the cone
And so he continued his search
And I, being bored, moved along
Never once knowing the lurch
Of the man who once belonged
So I guess that’s who he was
He was a small sliver of me
A sliver that once knew love
And was burned by his own inward burning
And I guess he’ll keep on looking
For the chestnut for which he had a need
For when your eyes are blinded
The symbolism, you cannot see

Posted in Poems

Zero

Don’t tell me I should live
Until you have a reason
Don’t save this worn down skin
Until you’ve seen the demon
Don’t look within my inwards
Until you’ve read the warning
It’s written in tears of blood
From a time of unseen mourning
Don’t ask those simple questions
Those ones that I detest
For it is the simple questions
That makes a heart possessed
Discontinue your reading
Of the poem you now recite
For this poem will self-destruct
Just as your means of sight

Posted in Poems

The Rememoring

Does anybody here remember?
That time I jumped too high?
Does anyone recall?
When I almost touched the sky?
Did anybody here take record?
Of what I once felt deep inside
Does anybody here remember?
Did you see it with your eyes?
Does anybody know?
Can you feel it with your mind?
Did no one take a pause?
To do what once felt right?
How could you need a cause?
The feeling is there in sight
But in the world, I’ve seen
Their eyes are cold and blind
Don’t lecture me on insanity
I’ve been there and walked that road
I wrote in a poem
In a book and in a show
I explored all its mysteries
Like a cave or an ocean cove
Then it passed like a fleeting victory
Leaving a scar, a story to be told
Don’t talk to me of anger
Of bitterness, of rage
I heard it in a song
And it crumbled the monster’s cage
Don’t give me a speech on sadness
I’ve been there, trust me, I know
It drove me through a madness
Like a man once described a crow
Don’t give me your eyes of pity
You need them as your own
Take off your lens of charity
And see me on my throne
Look at me
Without the stains that block your eyes
Look at me
And see me from these rise
Take a moment, breath in and out
Feel the things I’ve spoken
Now stop! And look about
Look at the world around you
The world I caught you in
A world you never knew
A world untouched by sin
Cast glances to and fro
And breath in all that you can
For on the count of three
This poem, it will end

Posted in Poems

What I See

I see a train
And nothing more
I see a train
Bringing toys to stores
I see a train, as does a child
A child with fantasies
That are large and wild
There fly some reindeer
How can that be?
That’s impossible!
My brain tells me
But there they are
As I can plainly see
There are reindeer
Flying through the cloudy sea