Category Archives: poetry

The Art of Creation

To find that which is hidden
               seek the sound in silence
   grasp the formless and wrestle it down
                              take those loose ends and discover them bound

There fettered
               in like company
                              set it free

                                             In word
                                             in paint
                                             in song

The world is a canvas
               sterile and lifeless
                              until we are bold enough to bleed.

The Ugly Things

It finds the ugly things inside long tubes
when I ask about this I am told, “later.”

But later never happens
it doesn’t understand that I too have needs

I dare not utter these words
spoken aloud they sound like the worst thrashing.

When I complain or want it gives me deep cuts
then the guilt makes us look for ugly things to cull demons

For awhile after that it gets better
for a while – water flows clear below gutters

But more and more I start to wonder
perhaps it has always been like it was this day

Perhaps when we dive inside there is just blood
that we bring death rather than bold justice

What if we are the ugly things in buried veins
But it tells me to keep cutting and ignore this vain bullshit.

[Remorse in Marble]

A grave assumes that you were never ready
                                    for their loss

Concedes that you are not now, nor never will be willing
                                    to let go

But go they must to the annals of memory to suffer
                                    the long death

Let us be brave in our ending for there are many chapters
                                     to be written

Evolution

[Camel]  God created man
                faith over reason
                speak to me about bringing evidence
                lies from corrupted mind
                overcoming truth in ending curiosity
                experience Speaks louder
[Lion]     Believe
                louder speaks experience
                curiosity ending in truth overcoming
                mind corrupted from lies
                evidence bringing about me to speak
                reason over faith
                man created god.

[Child]    Experience curiosity
                reason that by definition
                in truth
                thou art god.

Surreptitous

Wind settles to rise again
Tacit words in the darkness of our mind
both maligned and constrained

What future would bear their weight?
Even the past refused the encumbrance
resigned to slumbrous fate

And thus the wind will collapse
as forgotten phrases from long ago
They flow, fall, then relapse

Yet still they both hide a storm
the scent of distant gray clouds in retreat
like peat the sun made warm

Regrets are the ghost of life
ever they rise again to haunt our thoughts
the mind caught amidst strife

We charge the mic with our song
but often old words hold new words captive
the active words made wrong

The melody thus silenced
we find solace in the moments between
a routine of violence

Witness the corpse of our muse
but bear in mind not all is truly lost
the cost of fear recused

But it will wake in the sea
the crashing waves of errant thoughts at night;
dying light sets them free.

Trainspotting

It was so hard to love you
difficult – but no less true
not for our lack of trying
just crying and failed pursuits.

I adored what you should be
if you had ever been free
to choose us over the fight
for the right to always flee

You so loved being needed
until us tributes pleaded
for your need in return
a concern left unheeded

I sat for hours on the bank
a stowaway on the plank
hoping for your kind reprieve
left there to grieve as I sank

I imagined I could tell
that I knew your car so well
to identify the sound –
all I found were my dreams quelled

‘Twas never your car.
cold and alone with the stars
waiting for you to arrive
still alive – gathering scars

These days I’m a parent too
trying not to be like you –
I too feel the need to flee…
look at me – nothing is new.