Category: Poetry
Spinners’ Sonnet
Strange the writer terrified of spiders whose string game sorcery dazzles all prey. Hidden, shadowed, forever outsiders. Dear fellow scribblers, isn’t this our way? Spiders sip crimson blood. We drink black ink spinning songs of joy and devastation. Mysteries of existence on Earth’s brink, each fiction takes careful calculation. Destiny’s Read more
MOI
Who is MOI? Me, Only, and I Born from icky lives and pounding bassoons Feathered with lights and crawling beauties Raped by hierarchy filled with droughts and wide crowns Crafted into idols throughout unmarked time and shapeless space Bathed in oceans of rage and melting sand Cured by infinite memes Read more
To what you let go
Do your hands still look the same as they did? Do you still wear those shirts? Are your shoes still under your desk? Do you still worry about your hair turning grey? Does your voice still sound like song? Do you still lie awake at night Thinking about it over Read more
Game of Telephone
The telephone used to ring a lot You see it in old movies Heroes fumbling for their change Being pelted with rain Pursued, hiding, and afraid There’s only one way out In the middle of seduction In the parlor, lights down low The faithful always called The criminal element laughed Read more
Trapped Tears
It’s back, that distantly familiar swell under my ribs, a bitter sensation, like crying which is desperate to escape. Is it my trapped tears, all alone inside my chest? Or the hollow itself that they inhabit, which hurts? The aching makes me inhale, throbbing intensifies. Perhaps because my sorrow is Read more
Night Shift
My hands come together prayerful around the whistling hot cupful to wait to sip scorchless to feel its breath grow cool degree by half degree across my lip— A vigil I cannot keep. All day I touch my raw tongue to the back of my teeth. Again, broadside in the Read more
Richard’s Mummy
Richard isn’t at school today. He wasn’t there yesterday, either. When I get home, my mother seems sad. She crouches, looking into my eyes with hers. “Richard’s Mummy is – “ My mother has tears now. I don’t ask her why, I wait. I feel uncomfortable. “Richard hasn’t got a Read more