POETRY

Living expressions of inner work. Offered as a glimpse of the process towards radical self-acceptance, healing, and growth.

Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Other Than Here

 

The inner storm meets outer calm.
A silent fury.
Impotent rage not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

The inner fog meets outer clarity.
A quiet constriction.
Clear thought not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

The inner grime meets outer cleanliness.
A mute warning.
Functionality not expressed.

Other than here,
Other than now.

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Lickety-Split

 

I wanna quit
I’m just not with it
Feeling like shit
Feeling like a misfit
An unfit and unlit hypocrite
In need of a refit

No longer with the energy to commit
Unable to continue sharing my wit
Unable to continue to submit
Unable to fulfil his holy writ

A social counterfeit
A fool with his brain split
Someone who’s no longer legit

Some kinda halfwit
Rolling without a permit
In need of a babysit

I’m unfit
An empty tool kit
A horse without its bit
A victim that’s gaslit
A plane without a cockpit
A radio with nothing to transmit

Guilt that’s impossible to acquit
Pain that I can no longer omit

Not without a wrist slit

Not without a friend to get close-knit
Someone that allows me to admit
All of my turmoil and bullshit
Someone with the necessary grit
To make the darkness sunlit
Someone that won’t just split
The moment I fall into a pit

If that’s you, please send help, lickety-split

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Take The Damn Pill

 

Take the damn pill,
You’re on it for a reason.
It’s to stop you feeling ill,
To keep you from self-treason.

Sure, you’re feeling fine,
But how long will it last?
You know you’re not divine,
Just look back at your past.

There was that time you went cold turkey,
When you knew it would be fine.
Instead, your mind went murky,
And you turned to a life of crime.

Or when you got the jitters,
So bad you couldn’t sleep.
Feeling your skin crawling with critters,
Causing you to weep.

Or that time you almost died,
When depression came back strong.
Or the time that you lied,
To yourself that something wasn’t wrong.

Take the damn pill,
You’re on it for a reason.
I don’t want to be reading your will,
As the last act of the season.

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Let Me Be Me

 

I look different from the inside.

I know what you see,
But you don’t know what I hide,
You think it’s just smiles and glee.

Really I don’t feel safe to confide,
Cause’ I’ve got demons you see.

They cajole, sow doubts, and chide
Making me question what it is to be me.

Showing my faults, destroying my pride
Highlighting how I act differently.

They remind me of when I cried,
And make me think all fuzzy.

They suggest I shouldn’t have tried,
Confusion they guarantee.

I just want to be free, to be, and to be me.
To not worry about what you see, or wanting to flee, or to fit some unspoken decree.
What’s the key? Can thee enlighten me?

Or should I hide inside, bide my time, and chide?
Swallow my pride and wish I’d simply died?
Please confide, be my guide, and give me what I’ve been denied. 

Ah, I see, you lied.
You see me as debris.

You barely even tried,
Before making me feel crappy.

‘Cause you were the one who cried
And spoke with such irony.

Like it was me who beat your backside,
And me who raised you absently,
And me who caused your family to divide,
And me who acted grotesquely,
And me who failed to provide,
And me who never gave an apology.

No, I’ve said sorry.
My actions weren’t justified.

But I am not them and I will never be.

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Red Flag Chaser

 

I’m a red flag chaser
A self-debaser
That tattooed look
Leaves me shook
Dabbling in drugs
With ‘caring’ thugs
Incredible sex
For the brain hex
Insightful conversations
Just distracted ruminations
Same toxic pattern
From abstinent to slattern
A mirror’s shame
Only myself to blame
Left alone and burnt
No lesson learnt
I get off on the thrill
Of you losing your chill
I hate when you insist
With a scream and a fist
But it’s worth the pain
To feel like myself again
A childhood’s toll
Red flags make me whole
The end of another fight
This is love, right?

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings, poem Zachary Phillips

Mojito the Bandito

 

Mojito the Bandito,
On the run from the law.
Hired an impersonator,
So in two places, he can be saw.

Committing crimes,
But seen with an alibi.
The adventures he had,
His schemes weren’t shy.

The cartels took notice,
Alas it couldn’t last,
Told Mojito to stop,
Or his head they would blast.

But Mojito wasn’t stupid,
He had a plan to enact,
Told his impersonator to wait,
Then it was Mojito’s time to act.

He shot the man himself,
Displayed his body on the town’s wall.
Made the cartels happy,
And Mojito attended his own funeral.

Now he rides free,
A gun at his side.
Named Mojito no more,
His face he must hide.

Beware the masked bandit,
The criminal with no name,
He will kill you where you stand,
And leave with no shame.

This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

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