beauty of the sea

i closed my eyes to the beauty of the sea
shielding the fragile part of my soul
that still believed
in the childish notion of an untainted moment

as i walked away
i couldn’t help but hear the crash of the waves
nor could i ignore the subtle fragrance
of echoed memories telling stories
of countless days lost and found
of floating
of sun-drenched smiles
of laughter
and of the salty tears of rebellion against a world that was forcing me to leave

i am crying those same tears now
their slow descent down my cheeks
mirroring a life spent running away from itself
too afraid to taste the saltiness of the water
too afraid to feel the sun or hear the waves
and too afraid to cry tears of departure
that i never allow myself to see
the beauty of the sea that is in front of me

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

nightmare

the toxic nightmare
the dream that traps you into believing you’re awake
that lets you live your fantasy for just long enough to taste heaven
but not long enough to be satiated
before you are wretched back into reality
by a chiding laugh laced with criticism
for being so gullible as to believe you deserve happiness
let alone a beautiful dream

---

This poem is from the book Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul

Candle

I’d like to be able to claim
That none can hold a candle
To your brilliance
But the truth is
They are but mere candles
Before you

Their light
Only blinding
Against darkness
Only blinding
In your absence

---

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

Once More

Once more
I wake
Finding myself adrift
Lost in thoughts
Of things
That will never happen
That can never happen

An ocean of possibility
Extends in every direction
Yet I fear
Leaving the safety
Of the anchor
Of the known

Once more
I wake
Finding myself both
Aimlessly drifting and unequivocally struck
Chastising myself
For not staying still
For not moving on

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

Not Safe

It’s not safe
For me to be alone
But it’s not pleasant
To be in my company

So how can I
Ask for you
To waste this day
Comforting me?

---

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

Modern Day Peasants

You
and I
Are just
Modern day
Peasants

Convinced
By capitalism
To needlessly want

Controlled
By inflation
To pointlessly save

Coerced
By religion
To endlessly argue

The farm
Replaced by a cubicle
The hoe
Replaced by a chair
The grime
Replaced by paperwork

We
Are trapped
Idolizing
Those who escaped
The trap
The very system they now uphold

We devour news
As if we
Have any power
To act on it
Believing
That if we at least know
We will somehow survive
The next apocalypse
Our rulers say
They are protecting us from

We pretend
That the weekend is life
And that our work
Has meaning

We pretend
That we have fulfilled
The dreams
Of our childhood

We pretend
Because if we don’t
We will realize
We are
Modern day peasants

---

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

Nevertheless

I’m scared
Of what your love
Will cause me to
Face about myself

Nevertheless

I’m confident
That your love
Will guide me
Safely through

---

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

Life To Avoid

Coffee to wake
Instagram to connect
Porn to cum
Alcohol to relax
Weed to create
Coke to play
MDMA to love
News to inform
Sugar to distract
Mushrooms to pray
Valium to calm
Melatonin to sleep

Life to avoid

---

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

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

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

Legacy

In the end
The only things
I’ll leave behind
Will be the few memories
My children hold dear
An empty bank account
A pile of used junk
And
A few words
Immortalized upon the page
Waiting
For someone I never met
To misinterpret

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