Category: Poems

Beginning, Again Beginning

Watch as the sand falls into that bottomless pit.

And the bottomless pit consuming everything by its darkness until there is nothing left.

There, in that infinite void, one must wait an eternity until, by random chance:

The merest flicker like a burning ash on the wind.

And from that merest flicker comes everything.

Fake It

I’ll fake it
Till I take it
Too far
Till I make it
Bizarre
It’ll make me
A star
And I’ll gleam
From afar
Then I will fade
It will seem
That I’m being unmade
Thoughts displayed
And laid bare
Either foolish
Or brave
Or a slave
To a chain
That’s constricting my brain
I’m insane
I’m unravelling
Can’t stop this pain
There’s a stain
On my hands
I can’t seem to scrub free
Woe is me
I’m like “Woah”
To go fast
I first need
To learn to go slow
Go below
Sink into the darkness
I seek
An absolute darkness
Far deeper than sleep
A place where it’s quiet
Where I don’t need to think
And here where it’s quiet
If I’m brave I can find it
The wick of a candle
I need only to

Punching Gravel

i’m so sad
that i want to punch gravel
until the flesh of my hands
is stripped away
and only bloody stumps remain
bones snapping and crunching
mangled remains
useless now
i strain and i scream
because it hurts so much
i have no hands left to punch with
and i’m still so sad

Kind of Dramatic

I’m sick of this feeling
Of not understanding
The things that we’ve been through
The things we are planning
And where I fit into
This complex schematic
Better draw me a graphic
‘Cause I’m getting frantic
And panicking makes me
Act kind of dramatic
Like I’m in a movie
Surrounded by actors
Each part that they’re playing
Is one of the factors
Of the equation
I can’t understand it
Must’ve missed school that day
But it’s not like I planned it

Witherbank

Reeds and Trees,
Mirrored by the water,
Darkened and muddy,
Each distorted reflection,
Looks down and wonders,
What if we are the ones,
Rippling on the surface,
Of some other river,
In an upside-down world.