Tag Archives: writing

Foolproof

Howdy folks. I’ve spent a significant amount of time the past week in a confused state, but things are certainly looking up. I can’t say for certain if one thing means another, sure, but when I wake up I know the Sun will call my name. Without further ado…

Foolproof

I feel as though something sinister lies beneath the surface,

so familiar, 

and yet unknown. 

~

I have often thought myself fearless,

once because of anger,

once because of stupidity,

once because of love.

~

I forget myself in my bravado,

too comfortable, too comfortable.

I allowed myself the privilege: 

A life without fear.

~

For a moment I laid in its warm embrace,

sat up in it,

and lived in it. 

~

How important are those around me and yet,

I forget. 

Awareness brings its own embrace.

~

Once I was a fool,

and now I am a fool again.

La Fleur

Howdy, howdy. I don’t have much to say right now, but I’ve got a heck of a poem for you. It’s been a little while and I appreciate everybody who sticks around to read these. It does mean a lot. Without further ado…

La Fleur

Beyond me burns a blossom,

beautiful and burgeoning,

blooming and bedeviling;

I see its light in all things right.

~

Therein I find myself at odds

with visions of varying veracity,

and veritable truths of varying capacity;

Visions of flame are burned into my eyes.

~

Into the sky I wander,

ferrying foolishly abreast of foreign fens

while my eyes scream and my legs buckle,

teeth seething at the thought,

as the light drives back into me.

~

I only came to pick a flower,

pretty as it was,

certain was I to endeavor

in an exercise so devilishly dour.

~

Ashen and alone,

addled and afraid,

all in and all out,

I was broken on the peaks of clouds.

~

Still I reach for vaunted halls,

for myths and legends and things yet to make,

as that blossom burns bright behind my eye.

The Colors of My Dreams

Hey folks. New poem out here that I think everybody might like. Without further ado…

The Colors of My Dreams

Raindrops fall on an old and blackened bench

while purple twilight surrounds a rain-soaked plaza, awash in its prismatic violets.

The soft patter of rain against the quiet brown of my hat

calms me in the face of unrest;

here she walks beside me.

~

She runs in sequins before me

through the forest and up the road,

golden hair whirling and wafting like wispy smoke 

that carries warm auburns and rosy cerises

through the greenest of summer’s leaves.

~

Her face alight in cerulean blue

and infusing white

that brought to bear

those swirling rings of sage and amber,

looking back in all their candor

affixed and filled with all their splendor. 

~

Afeared and alone,

the drip, drip, dripping of golden ichor on the stones,

amidst silver ash and crimson fire,

an ascent to the top of an onyx spire.

~

I awake in your arms again.

Skinwalker

In the dark forest beware the friendly voice, for you don’t quite remember how it got there, do you? Without further ado…

Skinwalker

Suppose I had forgotten in my long bliss

that creeping embrace

of nullifying devastation.

~

As I walked along and atop those warm, sunny stones of mirth,

there lurked beneath a vile contempt

whose insipid nature hid its birth.

~

I awake again in the dark

surrounded by cool sweat and stillness of breath,

a reminder of things so stark.

~

Beyond the the window pane

does one Shadow take my eye.

Misshapen, and wrong, and ill in pain. 

~

The shape of an antler,

the glint of an eye,

and my fear I wished I could stand her.

~

Speak again in that voice I knew.

In all my terror, for a moment

I was blue.

April, May, June, and July

Hey folks, been a minute on the website. Hope everybody who tunes in is doing well. I have the highest hopes for you all. Here’s a little one about my life. Anybody think they can decipher it? Without further ado…

April, May, June, and July

Asked if I am ready,

again,

I answered, “Yes.”

It’s almost time I’d be my best.

~

I felt the pull of a thousand worlds,

unfurled,

as I watched her dress’s frills

make those thousand twirls.

~

Lost in the webbed clutches of mirth,

I’d ponder myself the worth

of all those things upon the Earth.

~

However then,

did I find

myself in such a bind,

to be so unequivocally blind

as I felt the rush and lost my mind.

~

Ideally,

I would aim to be

tending to a sweeter kind,

yet in my fascinating lies,

were threads of fate

cut again before my eyes.

~

Feeling then,

and feeling now,

the difference in a simple, “How?”