Category: Poetry

Amateur scribblings often over rhythmic, rhymey, shallow and too Freudian.

  • Darkness

    The Darkness came for me in the night
    With the setting sun
    The loss of light
    The Darkness enveloped and consumed
    No brightness, only gloom
    The Darkness took from me my soul
    I gave no fight
    For I am too old
    I should be relieved that it is gone
    But in place of my heart
    It left a gaping hole.

  • I have a crush on her

    My love for Cathy is so large
    That in trying to carry it
    I find myself crushed.

  • Stone me

    I feel like I need medication
    I need tranquilization.

  • Walking Dead

    Somewhere along the path
         I died
    But did not know enough
         To stop walking.

  • Living large

    I will do everything big!
    For no success should go unnoticed
    No voice unheard
    No risk taken without chance of harm
    No conditional love
    No joy mundane
    And no mistake can ever be small.

  • Tomorrow’s Future

    If there was a future in my past
    At present I can see
    There was no future in it for me.
    I awoke living each day for tomorrow
    And slept lamenting yesterday.
    Today I can only think
    Of going back and doing it differently.
    Tomorrow will be a new day
    Then I can begin to live my future
    Much more happily.

  • If Not

    If not for this darkness
       I could see
    If not for this sadness
       I could be happy
    If not for this weight
       I could move
    If not for this pit
       I could escape
    If not for this solitude
       I could laugh.

  • I was never a very good _____

    I was never a very good Presbyterian
    Nor a very good Baptist
    I was never a very good Methodist
    I attended a Catholic church once
       And was not a very good Catholic
    I was never a very good Lutheran
    I tried reading the Book of Mormon
       But was never a very good Mormon
    I attended some Wiccan ceremonies
       But I was never a very good Wiccan
    I have chanted
       But I was never a very good Buddhist

    I have seen fairies
    Spoken to the Great Spirit, o’ Maker of Life
    Drawn down the moon
    Worshiped the Sun
    Praised the Mother
    Oh Blessed Be!
    I have been a trespasser
       And a debtor
    I have taken communion
       The Body and The Blood
    But I was never a very good believer

    But, in all these things, the Spirit in me
       Has been the best that I can be.

  • Anxiety

    This hand versus that
    The good and the bad;
    Trying to spread good
    But feel only sad;
    A harmless white lie
    still tears at the soul;
    Her ego judged me
    When I did no wrong
    Then I judged her
    Same verse; same song.

    Look in the mirror
    It’s me that I see;
    The image that is
    Not the one I want it to be;
    They write the rules
    I write the rules
    There are no rules
    We; the fools.

    I cannot live
    Upon this pillar
    So very tall;
    Such that all can see
    The stature
    The nature
    The me;
    The higher it rises
    The bigger it becomes
    More of the pillar they see
    And so much less of me;
    As big as I wish to be
    I’m shrinking
    Vanishing
    Becoming
    To small to see.

  • Poetry at 70 mph

    I tapped this out on my phone after cresting the hill south bound before the I-40/Pellissippi Parkway exchange. My normal glance at the peaks of the Smoky Mountains was obscured. The weather inspiring.

    There are no mountains today. A cloud blankets the horizon. More so, it blankets us all. @djuggler

    Theo Aukerman suggests this could become a Haiku.

    With slight mods, could be a haiku: … @knoxcoder

    So how’s this?

    No mountains today
    Cloud blankets the horizon
    It blankets us all.

    Hmm. I may have a thing or two to learn about meter versus moras ("on").

    One on is counted for a short syllable, an additional one for an elongated vowel, diphthong, or doubled consonant, and one for an “n” at the end of a syllable. Thus, the word “haibun”, though counted as two syllables in English, is counted as four on in Japanese (ha-i-bu-n). Source, Wikipedia, Haiku

  • Too stressed to type

    Thy todoth list overfloweth. Nay, thine own muse shouts silence. Gagged. Hiding in thy shadows within the deepest recesses of mine own mind. Today’s stories shall be passed upon to giveth thy brain a necessary reprieve such as tomorrow’s adventures shall be retold with vigor! William eat thine own heart out with a spork!

  • Throb throb throb

    It is so easy to become so consumed in thinking about one’s situation or task at hand or the thing that needs to be done or the impossible deadline that we become frozen, unable to do anything about that which needs to be done. So much easier said than done but the simple solution is to stop thinking about it and simply do it.

    Today stress has left my head fuzzy, foggy, in a cloud. A rare state for me. I have never taken pain killers before but I feel like I could use some today. I’ll settle for a fist full of a Tylenol/aspirin cocktail.

    There was peace
    I drifted through space
    Then I open my eyes
    The ground rushed up
    To smack me in the face
    Leaving me with nothing
    But a dirty taste of reality.

  • Absorbing ourselves

    And I was consumed with darkness
    So this is death
    But there is no light
    Death brings the light
    Enlightenment
    Only darkness
    Where did the light go?
    No, from where did the darkness emanate?
    Within!
    That hollow feeling in my chest
    A black hole
    Sucking the light away
    Sucking the life away
    Pulling me down
    Down
    Infinitely
    Down
    Falling
    Failing
    Spinning
    Swirling
    Going
    Going
    Going
    Gone.

  • And I can feel the changes coming on…

    Walking through Butler & Bailey, I feel a swell of joy
    I sense positive change in my life
    As if I am in the process of emerging from a cocoon.
    I am calm
    I can handle the next part of this journey with ease
    I am happy!
    I exit the store
    To see a dragonfly dying on the sidewalk
    Slowly moving its wings for the final time.