Wednesday, November 19, 2014

A Collection of Scraps

note: each line or stanza separated by white space is an individual idea from the rest. these are just a small collection of recently tossed off lines and ideas gathered together in no particular order.

staying in love
away from the eyes of the world.

through the window
the waves wash the shore clean

walking through the wilderness
of the heart

new cartography of the inner landscape

I am chasing the ideal self I wish to be.

My boredom is contagious.

Stuck in a run-out groove,
locked, so I keep going round,
can't reach for the arm.

Good times, hard times,
all these times together
I prefer to being apart.
Good times, hard times,
sitting without you
out by the ocean,
waves blend into
the sound of passing cars.
Spilling out, I can't hold
the tide surging in me.

All these wasted
useless days
pile up behind me
reminders of a life
before you.

You begin to love
the fire
charring you
from the inside.

How quickly one life can become another.


Hunted by the shadows of our ghosts

what does it mean
to arrive home close to midnight
and discover
a white rabbit
resting comfortably
on the grass
nibbling from time to time
as if hunger
were an afterthought

what will become of these words
tossed off
onto the page
as if they were drops of paint
dripping from the brush
and onto the floor?

I can hear the loneliness
in her voice
her right hand strums
chords
as if she were wiping
dust from a table

I have to believe
that not all people are
short-sighted and callow
  
Why bother with anything if everything
is heading to collapse?

 The fear builds
and I hope
that things are fine
that you
are merely asleep

The wrath of God is no threat
if you do not believe.

No comments: