Tag: poem
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Inside A Stephen King Novel
The phone keeps ringing In the still of the night it’s a deafening trill Menacing The caller does not speak Dead air Or is that the sound of something under water? Hello? Crackle… Glub… glub … Hissssssss
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The Passage Of Time
Tick tock The sound of a clock Shiny gold pendulum swaying back and forth Slowly Hypnotically CHIME A hand moves Marking with precision the passage of time BONG Something is striking mechanical parts Another hour Gears Interlocking teeth Moving in unison A key in a slot Turning Winding Behind glass Tick! Tock! Time is passing…
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Why Are You Here?
Nothing to see here No reason to gawk Or linger Why do you dawdle? Just move on I am writing or rather, I have written something A few words here and there But nothing coherent Yet Just lots of jumbled thoughts That makes sense only to me From my feverished brain You wouldn’t understand It…
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A Christian Cemetery
Is neither haunting nor scary. Nothing of evil is there. No restless, lost souls flitting about Moaning and groaning So take your paranormal gadgets elsewhere Though their journey here has ended Life continues on into eternity These concrete stones merely time markers Of their brief sojourn upon this earth They’re now in a better place…
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Journey To The Ponds
Walking out the back door of a madhouse Never out the front Some things are meant to be hidden Smelling the rain for the first time That earthy wet fragrance When the frogs come out at night In great numbers Only to get crushed underneath the tyres On their journey to the ponds Their odor…
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Snow And Ice
The ice storm’s aftermath A crystalized world Glistening shards Beautiful Yet treacherous Like someone I know
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No One To Text
A brief taste of homelessness One night in a Walmart parking lot Cramped in a small car Away from everyone Fast foods bought with pocket change People watching to pass the time Doors locked Nodding off With one eye slighty open A dirty blanket behind the seat Smells of motor oil and french fries The temperature plummeted…
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Control
A rigid house Constricted Tense Pressurised Eventually falls upon itself Crumbles and collapses Just like the people inside Devoid of jokes The man is angry explosive I saw that on their wedding day when he wore that thing on his head and held her hand a little too firmly
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The Forest For The Trees
Why can’t we love nature without worshiping the trees? Why do so many make the forest their church? I saw you hugging an Oak tree and kissing a stone. That night 12 of your friends formed a circle and prayed to some goddess You’ve been doing this for years Although the goddess has never answered.…
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Determined
This owl is ANGRY His face is almost human like Repeated attempts to catch a vole have failed He is famished And will not give in to defeat Try again he must Just dont get in his way!
Just A Guy 