The shoes were thin and worn The day was windy and rainy The voices demanded volume And the faces… they were blurry They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care. And the tears don’t matter They’ve just made it harder Can’t breathe underwater And the blood doesn’t matter It’s just wet…
It gets rusty with all the rain And the yellows Just run into brown all day The pain echos Inside hallways Locked away from you But sometimes I think you can hear The ruining Behind those walls It’s not as noisy As you’d think The death of words So many slaughtered Reimagined And recreated For…
I broke down In a place Called Famine Wishes On my back Good intentions Safely packed Sacred shrines Built with Dry split bones Line streets Paved with Bricks of mold A hungry place With liquid teeth And too many Stranger things Upside down Reciting prayers Of starving dread Too many Inky squids Writing love letters…
A GUEST POEM BY Byron Hamel They force you into theseLittle rowsIndustrial linoleumWorn down to bedrockWhere you waitUntil they are as urgent as you areAbout the death and mayhemPlease wait calmlyWhile the world caves inAnd you stay at the bottomIf you liveThey caught me cryingThis time about Hiroshima and NagasakiI’d been in the middle of…
Tangled up with roots That no longer hunger Soaking up rust Can’t hold on much longer Heavy and weary The oppression stronger Stuck in the mud Nothing to do but slumber Hold me down so I can’t breath To waste away in my mental bunker
Were you remembering All the baseball games As you sat on your porch Listening as kids played A few blocks away The cheers and the boos The random loud cracks As ball met bat Were you thinking of youth Would you have given anything To go back for a day To wear a uniform Sit…
The grass is still wet And the ground is warm Roots drink in water Ants make their tunnels Worms lazily burrow A symphony of sounds If one could hear them Through soil and stone But the dead don’t hear Not like the living do The dead are listening The way the universe does
Sometimes I can feel it The fading or the leaving The small ways of ending It’s slight and unassuming Just a strange passing And it feels like indifference But it’s tricky that way Because it’s the opposite It’s the fear snaking around It’s the worry and anxiety Whispering so very softly Before the noise buries…
There is a quote that says “Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal”. ~ Richard Puz So many hands holding fingers holding hands I look at mine holding tears, holding sand The tomorrows seem scattered, they seem sad I can’t reign in the fear that keeps…
The day breaks On winter And I cry For the warmth It will cover My heart breaks As the cold Creeps in And the tears Turn to ice Before night falls On winter
HASTYWORDS 