Poem 4 - Days and Dilemnas

The poison sticks and stays in pores and under fingernails
I linger on the stench
It reminds me of things I have not yet accomplished
The joints pulling apart at my seams in the effort of reaching so far
The surgery of days work, nimble fingers
Swiftly stitching and ripping and carefully
Carving out the imperfections to create
A new whole that begs to be hollowed and built anew
Time tocks away, it disappears
Like early snow on a hot windshield
What an unaccomplished person I would be
My pockets full and this never endeavored.
A widow of dreams and wishes
A lifetime of self-loathed grieving
Or years and fears and the possibility of becoming such despite it all.
Do I dare breathe a sigh or emit a laugh
Between the scales and lengthened stanzas
Or hold in the euphoric atmosphere for later;
My light in a weary, faded world.

Poem 3 - Divided

Who are you, living beside me?
What treasured parts still fit together
To gingerly compose the image that is my love?
How my heart weeps and seethes in his absence
Its beat dancing on reels
My feet sore at the heels
From this grey stop, so sudden.
A mindless, mindful, graceful, grateful story
We once were.
Strong bodies, young and rose-colored and smelling of sea.
Starred eyes and nights swallowed us whole.
Who are you, living beside me?
Walls and doors and chairs and stale air.
Pixelated goals replace the tangible zeal of tomorrow.
Blurred days and cloudy clouded concentrated thoughts
Shuttered words, so carefully constructed to
Love and hate and harrow and move
But to no avail.
Who are you, living beside me?
An aside, riding in my sidecar
The listless wind has somehow whipped you
Though I stand solid beneath you
Your earth is crumbling.
I shall continue to tear at the fabric of my soul
Until I can save you
And bring you home.

Poem 2 - Speak my Love

Speak my love,
Your silent tongue
Mocks my breathless heart

I know not your troubles
But one syllable to start
Would slow the ceaseless churning
Of the scenes inside my mind
Speak my love
This worry is of the darkest kind.

Your eyes are full of coldness
That stills the breath I breathe
The anger hid beneath your chest
Is pain that I can see

I would leap from any height
To rescue you from this
Quickly speak my love
It is your smile I miss.

Poem 1 - Ballad of the Anarchists

Stand upon the hills,

Those who own their souls,

And cry to the night as one,

To purge this poisoned air.

Fire! They shout,

Out bloody mouths,

Frothing with the taste of anarchy.

They indulge their eager feet,

Forever drowning in turning sand,

Blissful as long as the endless sea

Remains on the horizon.

An angry world tips the scales,

To loose the furled and knotted minds,

That otherwise would climb the ladders,

Step by step

Content with time.

Compassion, love, honor,

All silently secretly slaughtered,

Apathy, unbridled passion

Wield the scythe;

The swing never whispers

Rhyme or reason.

Pattern the fields with purposed bodies,

Leave behind the selfishness of mine,

March to an even drum;

The heartbeat of possibility.

Let these burdened minds know victory ,

And find peace on distant hopeful shores,

Weary legs wrung with the effort

Of running for so long against the current.