Not fragile

I am not fragile. I wear my words Like scars to show The violence hasn’t cut me, And I write away the malice Riding prized from angry voices Making orders of the day In breaking news Of fear and agitation, Screaming yesterday was better And so break today, For greatness is possessing Rage and isolating […]

Brakelight past

Traffic labored haltingly On pavement bathed In summer sun, Pent up there and idle Hemmed between a headlong Sprint held lifeless And this subsequence Of brakelight stains Like ranting pulses Saying stop but crushing Forward every fractioned inch, And miles to go. Miles of cut-short starts To stew beneath a stone July Whose end comes […]

Blind waitings

Sometimes I wait for evening And the blindnesses it brings, For greens to grey And blues to grow so deep The sky could drown me. I watch behind a window Hours fall like drapery To veil what might have been, The fond desaturation Of abandoned outcomes Melting vaguely Melancholy until uniform And beautiful Like blue […]

A garden in me

A garden grew by trial and rain, By days beneath the sun Whose burden was its blessing too, And by the scarred and tired hands That bled compassion And self-sacrifice, Hands that took the thorns in stride Because she knew always The blooms would come. A garden grew in soil tilled By every tired finger […]

Fridays

I told a secret once To Friday Of the anger Piling up, Like so many bankrupt Weekdays kept in line By feigning interest And the gist of every one Of them time wasted. I told a secret Of self-medicating, Of every bitter pill I swallowed For some Monday motivation, And I know their just placebos […]

Candlelight

Another coat of paint To make these borrowed Walls less tenebrous, Because from here Inside them I’ve the sense their sallow Looks assume a bit too deft The semblance Of the candles burning low. And water on the windowpane Draws vaguely somber Pearls along the surface Of these tired facades, Like so much matted color […]

Apart

Maybe it’s to be apart, Untroubled in the solitude. Maybe it’s to doubt That as I chip it all away Somehow I shape a better kind Of self exhausted of mistakes. Suppose it’s resignation And the mild sort of loneliness That molds me bittersweet, Some dim reflection of Those gloomy tropes whose Freedoms rest on […]