Diaphragm contracts, vision swift to blur;mind racing from its proper time and place.What pulls the heart to this violent stiralways hides from mine its shadowy face. Triggr’red, mem’ry makes this body a corpse,an evolution now so far removedfrom a life once lived; unforeseen change warpsour expectations thought already proved. Yet this time-trav’lling, near resurrectedidea isContinue reading “Before”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Phases
The armour of griefShields hearts from overburden; But, donned for too long,Becomes what he sought to thwart:Deprivation of belov’d. Three olives, dirty,Vermouth merely opened near:Just how she liked it.Absence won’t prevent our toast –The soil delivers her drink. Darkness once scared meBased on what I couldn’t see.Yet now I’m seekingWhat nothingness slowly takes;Death’s embrace: treasuresContinue reading “Phases”
His Place
Sitting serene, the lounge of mother’s arm –Knowing, now, nothing of another place –A love irreplaceable as his charm. Basked in attention, withstanding her smarmBy staying ever close to sleep’s embrace:Sitting serene, the lounge of mother’s arm. Each new concern will his presence disarm.Looking upon him, every threat we outpace;A love irreplaceable as his charm.Continue reading “His Place”
A Note of Self-Reflection
At the wise suggestion of my wonderful wife, I intend to take a summer break from this blog each year. Though I thoroughly enjoy writing these posts and truly attempt to do so for its own sake, there are weeks in which I have written posts merely to maintain my self-imposed goal of a postContinue reading “A Note of Self-Reflection”
Paternal Guidance
By my own power, I hope to flowerA life forg’d in the manner of true faith; Into the desert, no rain or shower,Ready to combat all demon and wraith. Hot sand trod upon, as I run along,Seeking all powers of Satan’s legion.Yet the mere sound of solitude does throng:Only my lonesome soul in this region.Continue reading “Paternal Guidance”
Sunday’s Loves
A place built by hands not ours – He powers these short hoursIn which salvation flowers. Thereafter, we tend the child, our duty made but mildby hope of future fealty. Now laid to rest, we take hold of time free, rare as gold, When hearts to each other flee. After domestic relief, we conceiveOf anContinue reading “Sunday’s Loves”
On the Need and Risk of Poetical Experience
After having run a few errands, I returned home to find my wife and infant son resting on the couch after what seemed to have been quite a good feeding. Though he has not yet figured out his facial muscles and the relevant expressions that display certain emotions, I could tell given his posture andContinue reading “On the Need and Risk of Poetical Experience”
The Coffee Shop
All tables and chairs seat chattering folksIn talk that ranges from debates to jokes; Scents of brewing and baking all around. A meek, old couple engaging in ScrabbleWhile two, young babes persistently babble; Hot drinks – mere pretext for smiles to be found. Familiar faces rushing by outsideAs calm within is allowed to abide; CoffeeContinue reading “The Coffee Shop”
Travel
So lounged that droopiness overtakes my sightDespite the richness split along the road; Sedentary, now feel the light like night, And – here – the wild alike to my abode. Through dirty windows flow these known scenes, Such places passed where foot has never been.
The Prodigal
Master, betrayed you not your own teachingTo keep our pearls in hand, away from swine?Perhaps you prepared for overreaching—A fault so unable to cause decline. Your gifts, us men trampled into the mud,Falling depraved into darkness profound;Not wholly cleansed even by raging flood,Begging for mere scrap, without any found. Returning home, no sacrifice to give—YouContinue reading “The Prodigal”
Hoping for Clarity 