Tag Archives: love

Groggy

Good morning, everyone. I am tired today. New poem though! I hope you like it. Oh! I did see a guy who looked exactly like Jeffrey Dahmer. May have been his ghost. Who knows! There’s my funny little anecdote for today. Without further ado…

Groggy

Sick in the head,

but not as you think;

Tired, foggy, heavy and glum.

Perhaps from me it could be washed

with all those contents of a bottle of rum.

Tired heads bring tired eyes

and so forth pour those tired lies

from upturned lips that sink so down,

once a smile

and now a frown.

Wear a mask

and make your task,

feel it though:

The bite

of an asp.

This one’s going to make you last.

Stellar Corona

Good afternoon, everybody! As we shuffle slowly into winter, I’ve got a nice little poem for you all about keeping the cold away. Not much else to add. Without further ado, please enjoy.

Halo

Filtered through those sunlit clouds,

warm rays give way to warmer shrouds.

They wrap around and they provide

a sense of calm I’d not before tried.

Not so worried

about the slurry

that no doubt comes

with coming flurries.

This Sun may shine,

a gracious sign,

that snow so clears

around the pines.

In the forest,

betwixt the trees,

stands the florist

whose wares escape the coming freeze.

The cold has never seemed so far away.

Tired Eyes That Do Not Slumber

Good morning, everyone! I didn’t really feel like writing too much today so I’ve got one for you that I wrote a while ago. My hope is that, in reading, you might see the same things I saw, that you might see the little baroque paintings that run their course behind my eyes. Without further ado, please enjoy…

Sleep Without Rest

I don’t dream anymore.

No,

not dream, per-say,

but imagine.

I don’t imagine that world of pigs and pirates,

of castles and coriander,

of vampires and veritas.

I don’t look up and see the stars,

telling you that some day I’ll go up there,

telling you that some day we’ll be together forever and always

under those beautiful, wispy heavens.

I won’t lie and say that I don’t miss it;

the future we had spun.

A thread of fate so long and storied,

severed now,

long forgotten.

I hoped that you would walk the halls of my addled mind with me

and later the sunlit halls of our shared house with me,

but it was not to be so.

Those dreams of mine remained only dreams

now turned to sour nightmares.

The walls of that pretty little house on the hill,

tattered wallpaper,

shattered windows

and empty cribs.

No, I do not dream anymore.

To-Do List

Good morning, all. What’s on your to-do list? Groceries, practices, galas, or lunches. Think of all the decisions you might make today; is it you that is making them? Can you help yourself? Or does your self help you? Think about this as you read this short piece today. Without further ado…

To Do

If it were agency

through which we divined our decision,

would we have defined this insanity?

Would we have found ourselves,

rife in the ways that we are,

at the impasse of that infernal cycle to which we are bound?

Does the man make a decision?

Or does the decision make the man?

If it’s agency, you are a monster.

If it’s not, you are a monster.

Hardly matters, so it seems.

Make the choice;

let it make you.

There’s hardly anything you can do.

Paradoxical Paradigm

Good afternoon, everyone! It has been a long while since I’ve posted on a Sunday. I hope you all have had a wonderful weekend, and for those starting their Monday on the other side of the world, I hope you have a wonderful day. The sentiments of this piece may seem vaguely familiar, the stench of indecision and ambiguity being one we might all recognize. Please enjoy, my friends.

Twisted Memories

The last dream I had?

No, I…

I cannot remember it.

I must be mad.

It sang to me once,

that one dream I dreamt,

but now is lost to me

unsynchronized,

without harmony.

No truer words were spoken,

no more valuable a token

had ever once been given.

If only I…

If only I could remember

the shapes those words resemble.

My heart beats in time with drums

which, in turn, compete with hums

that reverberate and kiss me ‘till I’m numb.

How did I ever find the time,

adhering to that awful paradigm?

I only wished for a simple sign.