Poetry

Writing to, from, and about the parts within. Sharing to normalize the healing process.

Out Now: How To Write Evocative Poetry

About Poetry
Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips

The Cave

Once
When I was a young boy
You yelled at me

Objectively
It wasn’t much
But it was enough

That night
I built a cave
Inside my mind

One that overlooked
A lake
Whose water
Perfectly reflected
The beauty
Of the nature
That surrounded it

The cave was secret
And strong
And safe

The lake was still
And soft
And serene

I quickly learnt
To hide in that cave
And to gaze upon the water of the lake
Loosing myself
In the reflection
Of a false reality
Made real
By fear

You never yelled at me again
In fact
We never really spoke
At least
Not about anything that mattered

As you pulled away from me
I found solace
Sitting in the cave
Whose creation you inspired

I’d look at the lake
Wishing
You’d appear
Wishing you would
Say
‘Son, won’t you come swim with me?’

But you never came

Later
When I left home
You didn’t fight for me
You didn’t speak or even acknowledge
My absence

But you did leave a mark on my mind

That cave
Is now haunted
By the silent screams
Of the words
You left unsaid

And that lake
Still has ripples
From the rocks
We never thew
Together

The beauty of nature is obscured
By your indifference

And
I no longer
Have anywhere safe
To hide

This poem is inspired by my book, How To Write Evocative Poetry

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Poetry Zachary Phillips Poetry Zachary Phillips

un-actioned decisions

a man walks
blindfolded and alone
desperately searching for meaning

finding nothing
he cries
and clings to his own broken form

the remnants
of a series of an un-actioned decisions
the only identity left to embrace

nonetheless he smiles
unable to hide the irony
that only now does he finally feel safe

This poem is inspired by the book How To Write Evocative Poetry

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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

In Your Absence

I can’t quite express
The confusion and the mess
That’s been left
In your absence
Why didn’t you confess
The demons that had you possessed?
Why couldn’t you
Escape the thoughts that had you depressed?
Why was this the only way you could address
The aspects of life that you detest
that had you dispossessed?
Perhaps if you got some of it off your chest
The world wouldn’t be one man less
One man that blessed it with his presence
Now all who knew you are left to digest
News of death’s caress via a self-inflicted process
We can’t protest
We can only attest
To the pain and existential unrest
Of the hole your life has left

This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

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Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips

sertraline

medication?
more like calcification

the myopic solution
replacing anxiety
with apathy

losing focus
focusing
on what i have lost

my thoughts
circle the drain
both hope and fear
falling in turn

i am lost

a rudderless raft
left to drift
upon a dead calm lake

fog obscures the bank
fog obscures desire

i am far too calm
to stay safe
life and death
seem equally desirable

i drift

cold rationality
the last remaining
life preserver

the small subtle voice
whispering
that this too shall pass
the sun will shine
the wind will blow
and i will have purpose once more

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