Blame

Crushed by the weight of blame,
gravity becomes an enemy;
Guilt seeps through the cracks of torture;
Confusion of the wrongfully accused.

Tried and failed;
The jury too clueless to rule in favor.

A form of torture, this becomes,
questions now allegations
creating a fire that burns from the inside out.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon

Changed

Rearranged my soul;
Adopted the personality to better
fit the morals of someone
Who’s seen the waves
deteriorate rock bottom
to no more than pebbles.

Found the courage
to wander into the trees,
no longer afraid
of spiders in their hammocks
and snakes in the brush.

Unequipped and unprepared,
I’ll never return to the road
that guided me towards
an unfinished compound sentence.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Rotting Away

I’m standing knee deep in years of waste
thrown atop the grave of an unknown soul.

Importance matters not to you
when the life is not relative.

He sleeps restless in a rotted coffin;
blanketed in the arms of roots
that the maggots use for transportation.

He will never be known, but the first trash
ever to lie within this landfill
that reeks of pollution and repressed memories.


Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Greed “Capitalism”

A bloodied claw
dips hesitantly into the flow of the watercourse,
Once rapid; untouchable –
Now a chasm filled with gold.

Sticky sweet honey drips from the lips
of a bear who’s teeth have torn flesh
off the bones of the frail.

Temptation will always take priority over sensibility
when all you have known is to take –

He will never give second thought;
A single perspective;
Realization takes place of doubt
and nature portrays an animal of power
succumbed to a fate not unlike Midas and Narcissus.

————-

Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!

Poverty

What is the definition of poverty
to a man who has never seen a friend on the corner
of fifth and sixth, shivering on the doorstep
of a woman who does not bother to ask his name.
What does it mean to a man who never has to wonder
what it is like to dump change on the counter
of the corner store, hoping to have enough
to survive another night of stale cigarettes
and unpaid bills; children too young
to understand why their clothes come from
the siblings just older than them,
and not the mall the same as their classmates,
never knowing the feel of new clothes.
Where does the perception lie
to a man who has no concept of worth;
one who believes $8.50 is liveable under
the weight of student loans and medical debt,
as if there is a penny to spare into savings
that would otherwise pay for tomorrow night’s dinner.
How do you teach the reality of what it means to survive
to a man who has always had everything
and has never known what it is like to have nothing?


Check out my newest book Penny Poetry, now available on Amazon!

These Hands Speak Volumes

I had a voice tied to these hands,
filthy whitewashed ink stains,
painting dismembered sentences
on the torso of the innocent;

These hands speak out at the pew,
whisper under the weight of the priest;

They scream to repent every massacre,
every successful attempt at bloodshed
by the hand of the sword wielded
in an unforseen grasp.


Check out my newest book Penny Poetry, now available on Amazon!

Misplaced

Tongue shackled to the moon-
A butterfly with wings clipped
And a bat without hearing;
Nature split and broken
Away from how it was destined-

But still in the dark walks the sun,
Tossing around its nourishment
To a system whose cycle is forgotten;
Time and death an illusion for the soul
Searching for what was once made to be whole,
Not lying in pieces of a tarnished past-

What else is to become of an outcast
Fallen from everything that was once expected,
But peace only found in afterlife?


Check out my new book Penny Poetry, now available on Amazon!
 

Close Your Eyes and Listen

Before I disappear into a fine mist
clinging to your cheeks on a night
where the moon mourns the loss of an angel;
I want God’s tears to remind you
that there is love after loss,
and peace after chaos.
I want to leave my words to the wind,
calling softly to your delicate ears;
a song sung in a code only you can define.
Let it carry through every pore, every crevice,
feel the tickle of their syllables
flow silently into your entire being;
Relish in the sound of a broken soul
piecing together every scrap fallen
on its way to deliver such a message.


Check out my new book Penny Poetry, now available on Amazon!