POETRY
Express the mess to release the stress! Writing to, from, and about the parts within.
the body keeps the score
i’m frozen
reading the words scratched upon my soul
long before i knew how to read
but now that i’m baked
i’ve got a new take
a new way to remake
and rewrite the wake
so many tears
for so few words
it is on me
to see
and send love
inwardly
my shadow bleeds ink
yet i hold the pen
with these words
i begin again
for my story will be long
with chapters anew
and these words
are so few
the body keeps the score
but the pen holds the key
the paper is the door
so love what you see
begin again
i’m frozen
reading the words scratched upon my soul
long before i knew how to read
but now that i’m baked
i’ve got a new take
a new way to remake
and rewrite the wake
so many tears
for so few words
it is on me
to see
and send love
inwardly
my shadow bleeds ink
yet i hold the pen
with these words
i begin again
for my story will be long
with chapters anew
and these words
are so few
the body keeps the score
but the pen holds the key
the paper is the door
so love what you see
begin again
This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry
He Accepts
He accepts the world as it is
Never asking for much
beyond a smile and a hug.
Unruffled by change,
Volume, voice, or visage.
He embraces you for who you are.
Happiness is never far from him.
Small accomplishments
yield disproportionate joy.
Just a look will change his entire world,
And in doing so cause
His unfiltered response to change yours.
This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken
Caged Animal
Isolation.
Pacing.
Caged.
No hunt.
No kill.
No thrill.
Domesticated.
Trained.
Punished.
I want to run.
I want to fight.
I want to fuck.
Your protection wasn’t asked for.
Your protection isn’t needed.
Your protection is a slow death.
I am safe.
Trapped behind bars.
Never missing a meal.
Stuck in a comfortable rut.
Stuck in your routine.
Stuck and on display.
Nature sanitised.
Whitewashed reality.
A parody.
Just one slip.
Just one mistake.
And you’re mine.
Devoured.
Devoured screaming.
Devoured alive.
Your fault.
You caged me.
You attempted to tame me.
You put me here.
You put me on display.
You dropped your guard.
Lulled.
Hypnotised.
Dazed.
Cornered.
Primal.
Rage.
This is evolution.
This is inevitability.
This is life.
Isolation.
Pacing.
Caged.
No hunt.
No kill.
No thrill.
Domesticated.
Trained.
Punished.
I want to run.
I want to fight.
I want to fuck.
Your protection wasn’t asked for.
Your protection isn’t needed.
Your protection is a slow death.
I am safe.
Trapped behind bars.
Never missing a meal.
Stuck in a comfortable rut.
Stuck in your routine.
Stuck and on display.
Nature sanitised.
Whitewashed reality.
A parody.
Just one slip.
Just one mistake.
And you’re mine.
Devoured.
Devoured screaming.
Devoured alive.
Your fault.
You caged me.
You attempted to tame me.
You put me here.
You put me on display.
You dropped your guard.
Lulled.
Hypnotised.
Dazed.
Cornered.
Primal.
Rage.
This is evolution.
This is inevitability.
This is life.
This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly
Tomorrow
Tomorrow,
The time to get everything done.
Tomorrow,
A time that never comes.
Tomorrow,
When things will be better.
Tomorrow,
When new problems arise.
Tomorrow,
A hope for a change.
Tomorrow,
More of the same.
Tomorrow,
A new beginning.
Tomorrow,
Just another day.
This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly