Thursday, February 28, 2008

Despair is a hunter

fueled by the scent
of giving up
and giving in

that rises in the air
when hope has gone.

Despair has a hunger

opened mouth
it reaches in

slides into the spaces
where life should be found.

Despair came to find me

calling softly,
like a lover,

like a lover who was better
than having no one
at all.

And I should have fought him,
fought him harder than
I did,

but despair feels like home
when despair is all

there is.

Despair is a hunter...

and I am its prey.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Silent Screaming

Why don’t you just scream?
Scream if you have to.
Scream and prove you are still alive.

Your silence stifles me,

leaves me hanging,
grasping old photographs,
bitter and mute.

Looking like
the angry one to your unaffected eyes.

Smiling your deception at me
cause you’re just fine.


It’s either fable or truth
and that’s based on your perception.

You who is

so happy to live your happy
little lie.

silently I feel us die.

I am figthing for love

but you can’t be bothered to
if you even
have a thing left to say.

You move through this play
we are now pretending is
Our Good Life
like the man you think you should be.

Some picture you saw once in a magazine.
Stiff upper lip, tense manly pride.

Does that leave you satisfied?

It leaves me lacking,
after years apart from you
while you were standing right here

two feet away in our cozy kitchen

cooking up

heart hardening lies.

Words unspoken still sting.

I’ve heard everything you never said to me.
I’d rather that you would just open your mouth and



My work process for the poem posted above. It is a creation born from Patchwork Poetry.

First I found a line at Words that Sing. That inspired the whole poem. I then looked through the other poems donated and found more lines I could fit it. i was very tempted to change one word in one line but that is against the rules. Can you guess which word.

Anyway,the picture of this battle weary, stony couple formed in my mind as I wrote out the wife's inner duel between anger and anguish.

Thanks to lirone, scott, jillypoet, mariacristina and paisley for donating lines.

Monday, February 18, 2008


The oceans of time turn unafraid
of all my
futile rage.

And if I screamed out secrets,
purging my soul.
Would anyone notice

or care?

This world spins on,
like I'm not even here.

Note- This was written for Poets Who Blog Interactive Grab and Go poetry post. The darkened line is courtesy of the Random Line Generator at Poets Online.

Thursday, February 14, 2008


You throw your love at me like firecrackers
sparkling into thousands of pieces,
imbued with absolutions,

and just expect me to grasp
at flames.

To bless your sacred name
like you were my savior

from sin.

Did I ever ask for saving?

Should I fall upon my knees
and give thanks,
long after you burned me now
you grant
you grant
you grant

your love.

You might think it’s a deep, deep well
any woman would be lucky to
fall in.

Not looking for a chance to swim
back into your embrace.
Not hoping you can be the one
who saves


not willing to be burned or scarred.

Can’t make love out of two scorched hearts.

Note- This poem was written for Patchwork Poetry with lines donated by these poets:

mariacristina,just paisley and jilly poet.

Thanks for the inspiration.

Friday, February 08, 2008

shatter me like shells
strewn upon the beach
underneath your feet

shatter me like china
hanging on the wall,
like sun breaking nightfall

shatter me like hope
resting in a chest
another thing you left

shatter me
hard and quick and good
shatter me
shatter me
there was never a question you would.

Steady hands

tethered to my past
bound by its grip
and everything I've ever lost-
uneasy to forget.

why don't you come across
this water now,
for you know that I am sick.
need your help in this crossing now-
a reason to exist.

steady hands in hurricanes,

you always had a way
of making the awful seem
crazy seem sane.

broken birds are innocent,
innocent they say.
and every sin will be forgiven
if you only pray.

so won't you

brush me your steady hands,
wash this anger
off my back.

keep me floating in the water,

make up
for all I lack.

make up for all I lack.
take me in your steady hands.

Monday, February 04, 2008

There is this second that you own.
Though most would waste it, heaven knows.
Breathe deeply before God calls you home.

For sins we later can atone-
washed clean, like water off a rose.
There is this second that you own

Buck hard against the buffer zone;
rage like wild fire on the status quo.
Breathe deeply before God calls you home.

Ride the world like a cyclone.
Leave not a breath for regrets to grow.
There is this second that you own.

Blink twice, the pages have all flown
off the calendar, fate cruelly exposed.
Breathe deeply before God calls you home.

Hope dies quick when postponed.
Dreams give in to the death throes.
There is this second that you own
Breathe deeply before God calls you home.

Note- This is my first attempt to write a villanelle.