I am possessed. Hauntingly, Beautifully Possessed...
Home was a Meadow
Home was a meadow. It was running away, grass between my toes...
The Mad Creator
The Mad Creator Mixing poetry and madness In petri dishes made of cardboard Searching for the perfect drink: Make him drunk, But not so he cannot write; Make him numb, But not so he cannot remember his dealings. Make him learn to fly, So he can learn to live like angels To play God on… Continue reading The Mad Creator
A muse in a bottle
I keep my muse in a bottle. I shake it every once in a while- Or tap it like a kid at a fish bowl- It doesn't move, stir or come back to life; It just idly floats through its own filth. I sigh. Typical, I mutter as I flush in down the toilet And… Continue reading A muse in a bottle
I’m Comfortable Here
I feel comfortable here: This blanket, This screen, This mug I can curl myself around; I have found a home And you'll have to burn it Before I think about leaving. These walls These rooms, These routines, You'll have to close every door, And seal very window, Before I consider venturing Out further; Before I… Continue reading I’m Comfortable Here
It’s funny; You can kneel before gods But feel more comfort in the dirt Beneath your knees, Than from the things they offer. The grass might look greener, But they sold you those eyes And looks can be deceiving; You might think you need them, But they injected those chemicals. And, these days,… Continue reading Comfort
Living the Dream
When will life be better than my dreams? ...Or my dreams better than reality? I forget which is which these days. I would think I'm dreaming right now But I haven't slept in a week And, well, Why would I be dreaming of this?
'Why can't I be normal?' She yelled. 'It's not fair!' She demanded. But still The mountains didn't move when she walked; The flowers didn't grow to be near her; Nor did the wind even bother to change direction. 'I bet you wouldn't even notice if I was gone.' The world might not have changed for… Continue reading Change
I'd like to make a toast to fiction- For being a kinder devastation Than reality.
I think there's something more, Something you're not telling me, A thing you're not saying... Or perhaps many things; Many little things that Make one big problem. 'yes, it was I who put the empty carton Back into the fridge. I also want a break.'