Michael Scott Hand

picks up stones, says they are diamonds
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  • Category: Poems

    • Trapped

      Posted at 2:51 pm by Michael, on May 24, 2022

      as i walk past random houses
      i can’t help but wonder
      if there is anybody trapped inside

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • There is Beauty

      Posted at 10:43 am by Michael, on May 19, 2022

      there is beauty
      in a fleeting beam
      of sunlight
      as it wanes
      and night sounds fill the twilight
      wind whispers through the glades
      shadows lengthen
      wearily
      as they to lay down to rest

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • Fuck I’m So Sad

      Posted at 8:50 am by Michael, on May 18, 2022

      Fuck I’m so sad

      Tiny flame dwindling

      Like a frown at the edge of space-time

      On the ledge of space-time

      Where I can see the whole universe

      Arranged in columns of stars

      And light sparks between clouds

      Of nebulous gas

      Giving rise to creation

      Creating this feeling

      Of divine isolation

      In the cold and the dark

      Where the orbs spin

      And distant flames dwindle

      And twinkle

      As though it’s the same thing

      The sane thing

      To be distracted by light

      Like moths swarming a bulb

      Seeking warmth / Seeking death

      In the sizzling caress

      Of the flame and the glass

      Like a glass window pane

      The pain is ingrained in me

      It goes on and on

      Like some old song

      Cobbled together

      From all I’ve done wrong

      And from old nursery rhymes

      Rhyming slang / Guitar twang

      The phone rang

      In my memories like a harpy

      Yet I cannot sink

      Cannot think

      In this darkness

      In

      This

      Abyss

      Unmoving

      A bubble escapes from my lips

      As I gasp

      What is this?

      My body suspended

      In a body of water

      Suspended in space

      My heart’s starting to race

      And my thoughts can’t keep pace

      With the weight of disgrace

      And my shoes are unlaced

      What I’m trying to say is

      I’m trying to stay

      Grounded

      On the earth

      And its tectonic plates

      Rocky pinnacle untouched

      And ever unseen

      So remains like a dream

      Long forgotten

      Long turned rotten

      In the back of my mind

      Like a miner

      Pickaxe striking at

      My amygdala

      Wounded snake

      Driven mad

      Rising up now and biting

      Not because I am angry

      But because I am frightened

      Of men and their nets

      And the battles they’re fighting

      Lightning upon the plains

      Scorches whole fields with blame

      I’m so lame

      I’m so lame

      And fuck I’m so scared

      Wish I’d been prepared

      For this

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • Not Yet

      Posted at 8:32 am by Michael, on February 1, 2022

      all we love
      and all we are
      will quickly pass away
      “the void! the void!”
      i shout it out
      they do not shout
      because they are afraid
      “the void! the void!”
      fills up our sky
      our minds
      our hearts
      yet for so long as we exist
      we are a voice against that void
      however ineffectual
      we are something brilliant sparking
      they call it “intellectual”
      but what point is there of being… intellectual
      in a universe like this?
      no rhyme, nor reason, justifies why we exist
      “anomaly! anomaly!”
      that is what humans be
      and most are merely bleating sheep
      who do not wish to see
      and if they saw
      that gaping maw
      they’d scream
      if sheep could scream
      and they would wonder “is there more?”
      beyond this sight unseen?
      “unseen! unseen!”
      within a dream
      lies all that we have lost
      we carry each loss forward
      each one bearing its own cost
      is it PENNIES sir
      or is it POUNDS
      or is it EURO DOLLARS
      are euro dollars even real?
      i think and my rhymes falter,
      what is this life?
      what is it?
      i do not comprehend
      i know not where i started
      and i know not when it will end
      “not yet!” i say
      “NOT YET!” i say
      there’s things yet to be done
      NOT YET becomes my battle cry
      like the beating of a drum
      NOT YET
      NOT YET
      NOT YET
      NOT YET
      i will find a way
      to meet the future that approaches
      and face the passing of each day

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • Falling

      Posted at 6:52 am by Michael, on January 19, 2022

      it’s falling from the sky
      we’re all gonna die
      i don’t know what to do
      me either
      wanna get high?

      (and watch the sky together
      come apart in streams of light)

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • Sensing the Unsaid

      Posted at 12:22 pm by Michael, on January 6, 2022

      wanna bleat
      like a sheep
      and fall in a heap
      forget who you are
      and pretend while you weep
      tears that are dry
      cos you can’t even cry
      cos your brain has been altered by SSRI
      so consider the rhyme
      consider the season
      consider the reason you’re reading this wisdom
      this wisdom? or is it
      something else instead
      is it memories of people
      who’re already dead
      and recounted by fingers
      that can sense the unsaid

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • Scraggly Birds

      Posted at 8:20 am by Michael, on November 25, 2021

      I love,

      All the little scraggly birds,

      wide-eyed and feather-ruffled,

      Tossed aside by the wind,

      Into garden beds or against,

      Reflections of the sky.

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • The Things That You Do

      Posted at 8:27 am by Michael, on October 11, 2021

      Good Morning Michael,
      Who are you?
      Can you tell us a little something about the things that you do?

      What’s your story about?
      What type of things do you write?
      Are you familiar with deception as a fictive device?

      Gigantic rents in the sky,
      A speck of sand in your eye,
      I’m like a creature that has wings and yet refuses to fly.

      Well that’s nice,
      But what do you know about current publishing trends?
      Do you start work on a sequel as soon as one story ends?

      I’m like a murder scene played backwards until nobody dies,
      Gotta keep this shit tight,
      Like a CD track at night,
      Played in a car with engine idling that’s stopped at traffic lights.

      Well you’re certainly creative, so there’s no problem there,
      But you’ve still given us no reason for the
      reader to care…

      Oh, I am nothing to you,
      But you are something to me,
      For I dwell in a space too far for even Hubble to see,
      And your existence is the stars that light up my night sky,
      Without the stars I’d be alone and have no reason to try.

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • These Hills

      Posted at 9:49 am by Michael, on September 12, 2021

      these hills are a place

      where it is always night

      not the mean blackness

      some knights possess

      but a diffuse sort of darkness

      lit by the distant pin-pricks

      of exploding gas

      and the moon

      catching the light

      from an unseen sun

      and dripping it like honey

      such that these hills

      and this ever-night

      is lit by milky amber

      hues that carry the promise

      of magic

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
    • carved of stone

      Posted at 9:12 am by Michael, on July 9, 2021

      the poet sits
      on a simple throne
      made of stone

      for you he waits
      he waits for no one
      you are no one

      Posted in Poems | 0 Comments
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    • Recent Posts

      • Trapped
      • There is Beauty
      • Fuck I’m So Sad
      • Just a House
      • Black Country
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