The Devil Comes to Take Us All

Howdy, everybody! I’ve got something new for you guys today. Hope you like it. Without further ado…


The Devil Comes to Take Us All

Bludgeoned by a trembling hand,

one might be seen by a terrifying man,

a man who plays about the land

getting on and on without a tan.

He’ll ride the six in two different cities

taking great pride in gross salacities

on his way to desolate things once pretty.

Down the coast in an ancient Plymouth

with skin that looks of chalky bismuth,

he’ll call upon the evil things within us.

Where he goes, follows the rot

and all those dark little thoughts

that dot your mind like a pox

that’s just escaped Pandora’s box.

When you alone hear the crow’s caw,

careful now,

you’ll be frozen in awe

when the Devil comes to take us all.

You Don’t Bug Me

Howdy howdy, folks. I’m fittin’ to show y’all a brand spankin’ new poem I’ve just written. It’s about the feelings you get when you’re trying something new. Without further ado…


You Don’t Bug Me

Cicada, cicada,

what do you see?

Much like a dog,

you bark up the tree.

~

Blasted blasphemers

that scheme and abscond…

What do they do

at the edge of the pond?

~

Tempted now

by shadows in the deep,

dip your toes,

and then you weep…

~

But weeping then,

is valorous and honorable

when it is the fragile pen

with which you struggle.

~

In the corner of your ears,

someone hears

the whirring vibrations

that stem from a thousand carnations.

~

And every color of the rainbow

sings a happy lullaby

to that one

happy little butterfly.

Agency

Howdy folks! Haven’t posted in a bit but I hope you like the poem (even though it kinda sucks). Without further ado…


Agency

It feels like it always did, I think.

I drink.

I’m trying to find the missing link.

I sink.

The drowned man is never dead,

for there he sleeps inside his bed,

with all the bad little things

that are just inside his head.

Whiskey in the barrel,

whiskey in the cup,

whiskey in the bottle,

whiskey in the cup.

Drink, drank, drunk.

Something in the night that makes a thump.

I cannot see,

I cannot hear,

I cannot bear to be so free.

So here I sit

and bide my time,

for it means much to me

that there be roots beneath this tree.

Beneath the Water

Afternoon, everybody! I’ve got something special for you today after my month-long hiatus. I graduated too! Finished everything I had to and now I’m there. I appreciate everybody’s support on my way. Without further ado…


Beneath the Water

Tick, tock

Tick, tock

Tick, tock

On the clock…

There’s something in the water.

Do you see the ripple there?

The shadow before your stare?

Bubbles flit atop the pond

and find their place about a frond.

Troubles bared and troubles shared…

Can you spot a thing so flared?

The anticipation almost makes you scared.

Here abounds that thing unknown

that breathes the water

and remains unshown.

Beside that water do you totter.

Afeard and alone,

freezing to the bone.

You rang again.

A dial tone.

Ribbed and Smothered by Light and Shadow

Good evening, everybody. Dark today? Weirdly warm too. Nothing ever makes sense in the midwest. I graduate now in less than a month and I have never been happier to be finished with something. I want to be unconscious for a week. Without further ado, a poem.


Ribbed and Smothered by Light and Shadow

Lights compete for attention,

splayed across those places

where shadows have faces.

Seeing,

that light,

those bands

in all their dreary graces.

Sometimes I wonder

why all that’s made

are paces.

From one,

to one another,

are the faces bound in leather?

Are the faces well and truly weathered?

The door again,

to there again,

I see the light home again.

Then,

I grasp the handle.