Poetry · Writing

Doubt

I heard them creeping at night,

the monster underneath your bed,

you saw it in the mirror

in your coffee in the morning

in the eyes of your lover you left in bed.

Its crippling;

but you can’t park in that close spot

someone won’t push you around

this time.

The monster follows you around at work

hates the clothes on your back

the food that you eat

the women your loving

the women your fucking.

Wish you could tell this beast to fuck off

pick on someone your own size,

but it doesn’t exist.

Poetry · Writing

Last Last Inning

The stadium closed quickly,

the game was still in the 9th,

yet it was ball four for me.

Take a walk, I heard

had one too many, I heard.

Her light was still on,

watching the game on

the tele. First out, two to go.

Her husband pulled into

the driveway.

Hidden swish in the right

breast pocket, warm

enough to forget the cold

concrete.

Second out.

Home in time,

for a cold one.

Take a walk, I remembered,

the punishment I surrendered.

Radio signaled it in, out three.

Poetry · Writing

Every Tomorrow

Wake, wake

to the scent of flavor

baking and french toast

on a platter of butter

and Sunday mornings.

Wake, wake

to sleepy kisses and

bed ridden movies

replayed on network

television followed

by mid day naps.

Wake, wake

to her face every

time, her slight

breathing soothes you

back into her embrace,

not wanting to sleep;

not wanting for her to wake,

to stay this precious.

Wake, wake

to her smile every day,

the only way to spend

everyday.

Poetry · Writing

Nightmare

The doors closed, both parties

were inside. The alcohol

in his flask grew warm.

He was there when they

arrived. Tux’s and dresses

all the same secondary.

They looked happy.

The street grew quiet,

he couldn’t stop staring

at the bells above,

hoping

hoping they won’t ring.

Hoping the doors would

burst open.

The white gown flowing,

in your trails,

sour cries from inside hushed

from the past left in her wake.

Alone, wanting, the dream he

wished for, masked the

sound the clanging bells.

Poetry · Writing

Open Cavity

It’s been here all along

on my sleeve

here, where it all started.

Picked, pulled, stepped

on, left open

in another window,

while browsing Amazon.

I set it there; for you

and you

and you,

especially you.

So maybe, one day,

you would be able,

to place it right next to mine.

Poetry · Writing

Straw Heart

Break down these straw walls,

warm hands craft and cold

demolition. Architect of

who I was, and the

catalyst of who I am now.

Your sweltering hands divide

the water around these walls.

Drawbridge was only a suggestion,

perfume worked my chains;

until

you walked right back in.

Poetry · Writing

Breaking News

Take three:

The night, the current,

strangled the life with

natures cuffs. The light of

Diana broke the silence,

She sat with her hands in his,

waiting for his lips to move.

White light covered his lids,

the future he envisioned,

and her cold hands looking

for a flare of warmth.

The white light crept into

a brief opening, than closed,

than opened like a revolving door.

The cool breeze stole the air

from his lungs and ripped them

to the stream and tied them

with bricks and chains.

He crept close, “You sure?”

Take four:

Poetry · Writing

Prom

The knuckles drew life

red rushed rapidly round

his jaw. The knuckles

kissed the mandible and

a canine barked until reaching

the stage.

I saw Daisy covering her eyes

screaming at the red life

flowing around the

honored court.

Miscreant’s hands would never

lay his hands on a queen again.

On his queen,

crowns flew to the subjects below,

before the first dance.