I was simply passing through
A small group under
A crescent moon
Faces contorted
Bodies abused
Diving into their garbage
Living in waste
Dancing to self inflicted
Wounds
I wanted to throw them
A line
Something to hang onto
A painless tomorrow
A hot cup of coffee
Perfectly brewed
A belly full of potential
They were hungry
For something else
The art of drowning
My mother’s love
of hair bands
decorates my life now
decorated my locker
in high school
just like hers
decorated my room
just like hers
small connections
between us two.
Composite reality
the world is a surprise,
birds laugh, clatter, chatter
me, incognito, listen to such
surprises. Elements of happening gather for another world. The world is an animal four legged, slowly dying, only the hearse is ready — for departure.
A series of siren
feline yowls wake me
like an accident dream,
like the imagined sound
of a scream,
I look out at the window
at a blank canvas night
neighborhood,
then again and two lights
are on,
an epidemic of cats,
fighting, spreading
mange, making
mewing generations.
I know you now
I know the sadness of your smiles
I know the madness of your wiles
I know you now
I know you now
I know the rumour in the rain
I know the humour in the vein
I know you now.
I know you now
I know your every whim.
I know the silence in your spin
I know you now.
I know you now
I know the violence in the sun
I know the license in the lungs
I know you now.
I know you now
I know the wisdom in the State
I know the treason on the plate
I know you now.
I know you now.
I know the all-becoming dream
I know the soul-derising scream
I know you now.
I know everything?
More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com.
I squint and look away, you shine so bright. Oh how I loved to see you fight. A brand new day approaches, she says. In that lies new opponents. Once foretold, now on a repeat. Empty bottles scatter the street. Suede shoes left disregarded, I regarded. Blood red lipstick kissed a fallen glass, in life this too will pass. Out of the ashes comes the fire in my veins
I look over to where you normally are,
Where you are supposed to be,
Where you always were,
Where I always looked.
But, you are not there.
Missing.
Missed.
I’ve been airlifted
From that place
Which you revisit
Your dream state
That joyful noise
Which brings a glint
To your eyes
For some it is a place
Clogged with plaque
Post traumatic stress
Flashbacks
I can’t obliterate memories
Rising from the black hole
Of the past
Badly bruised fruit
The kind you discard
Along with the worm
That will not die
Just give me thirty seconds
Of delicious amusement
Versus fifty years
Of dirty little secrets
In the cracks of walls
Flashback
Up upon his city perch,
nestled in obsidian dark.
His keen eye’s never-ending search,
until it meets it’s mark.
Dispensing empty shells into the restless night.
Never wavered with the rain.
The thrill of will’s first flight.
His conviction far extends his frame,
his hunger never waiting.
Peering through forsaken sky,
aloft tenuous debating.
His instincts are surgical, whispering to “fly.”
Threw himself to the winds.
Nevermores are our goodbyes.
More at http://facebook.com/frankfpoetry.
The clock strikes,
the moon with a glazed look
descends on the howling dog.
The stars seem to clash
and the wind hovers over the
sleeping town. This was yesterday.