a man feels guilt for his rage and words which came as roars of infantile fury
Category Archives: Poetry
Princess of the Wastelands
I can hear her now from across the room: the princess, with doe eyes she believes she lives here this is her living room, and these are her people a party her party, perhaps and she’s doing her duty, entertaining guests until the music dies and the curtain falls – BSB
Hummingbirds
It just didn’t make sense. Not yet at least. Questions buzzed his skull like hummingbirds on a vengeful tear, and he had not the answers with which to sate them. Perhaps if he drank enough, they would come. Perhaps if he sat at the bar long enough, the world would simply move on. Perhaps, heContinue reading “Hummingbirds”
Witness
There is always, in every dive and bus bench and street corner and bar-stool and bank line-up some shifty gent with cracking skin, thick glasses, scars or scabs, who mutters curses under his breath to no one, seemingly, but me. I am the chosen one who soaks up the confessions of the lonely and lostContinue reading “Witness”
Hunting Ground
Lights shine artfully from towers that stab the night sky. That’s the key. The fill light seeps from lamp-posts and taxis and pedestrian cars. The darkness becomes the subject that’s framed in heroic personification. Alley-bound prowlers become protagonists in the urban ballet of apathy and compassion. Smoke emits from gutters to languish. Ambition puts rootContinue reading “Hunting Ground”
Haiku #94
leaf sitting aloft stray winds might steal it away new, horrid freedom
The wandering lover’s final, lingering hope
look for her with self-imposed singularity set yourself, like a ball on the tee destined for impact air, hover, and fall the fall is disappointment emptiness, doubt, and pain avoid the fall accept she’s gone
When death lurks on your morning stroll
baked by the fresh, morning sun the streets reek of boredom, panic, and piss decide to practice increased tactility practice keeping my head from bowing to track my shoes practice my breathing practice regulating judgmental tendencies achieve temporary reprieve enjoy a brief taste of peace until I remember that there is horror horror and death,Continue reading “When death lurks on your morning stroll”
Haiku #58
dawn sets land ablaze warms and eases writer’s cramp puts dead words to rest
This Affair will be the Death of us All
The gracious palm extended by our host Makes light the anxious air inside the hall Regretfully he dare not leave his post Or else to chance abandon he the ball The streamers tickle tops of drinks in toast To health and happy tidings one and all Tonight we dance ’til give we up the ghostContinue reading “This Affair will be the Death of us All”
