Tag Archives: love

365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Thirty-Nine

I would hide entirely.
but I do not have the means.
I would end and have it done.
but I can’t erase the seams.

not sure why to live.
not sure how to die.
try to go on desperately.
try to face my lies.

I will face the madness.
play the beggar’s part.
accept the loss of perfect love.
my devils pulled apart.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Thirty-Seven

how now.
a square of love.
the points they do connect.
when a pirate saves a drowning boy.
and his sister becomes a eunuch.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Thirty-Five

my heart.
is a confused thing.
barely alive.
opened too much.
to death and dismemberment.
mortal wounds unseen to.
naked eyes but.
the blood comes out of them.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Thirty-Three

spit in the face of.
what should be holy, I howl.
crying for the end.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Thirteen

being with you was
a heaven I can’t ignore.
no pieces fit now.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and Nine

pine.
with deciduous laughter.
struggling to ignore.
a rushing tide.
within, tamp down.
the outward signs, relent–
they are too heavy.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Three-Hundred and One

can’t use my conditioner.
without thinking of you.

a haunting.
suppose it’s the right time of year.

the last place became unbearable.
you were everywhere.

here, it is more a flashback.
constant highlights of dawn.

moving on, the steps are heavy.
not too proud to beg, but it is futile.

memory shudders and stirs.
one barely sane day to the next.

this shelter is cold.
empty of your words.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Ninety-Two

been twenty years and it’s hard to see.
what all the madness means to me.
bumble and snitch and bandersnatch.
time moves forward but I hold back.

whipping the willow, trying to flow.
past what is real and what is known.
is it the drugs or just a bad sack.
peanuts and penny whistles come to attack.

waste all the apples and make me a meal.
find a fine flower with petals to steal.
thought I found love but it’s all an escape.
these are the pies that memory makes.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Eighty-Six

of two different worlds.
it was not to be.
can’t read minds.
can’t see what I see.
a velvet flower.
perfect and rare.
thought it was love.
but guess you just cared.
and maybe I’m not meant.
to love myself.
maybe I’m not meant.
to love anyone else.
role models wrong.
past too deep.
they say I need time.
when all I want is sleep.


365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Eighty-Five

a moon, a life.
obscured by clouds.
hard to see.
to dream.
and where is love.
in all of this.
such an ephemeral thing.
alone I try to sort the ties.
all come up red.
spinning here there are no wings.
not much can be said.


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