He was full of life Hard to get close to Didn’t need love Or help or care Just did his thing Perfectly resilient He loved the sun Solitary days Listening to the world Dramatic with their flare Always changing colors Demanding attention But not him His name is Leonard Painful when messed with Not really…
Deadfall seasons Come like the night Sneaky and silent Waiting quietly with its Blood red oranges And copper smells A soft wet decay With no words to say Rain without cover Cold without a coat Dark without light This is the last place I’ll see until spring Peeks into my soul again
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…
There are lots of things I hate About trauma Real honest to goodness trauma Like… How it automatically steals Future joy How it cripples effective communication How it makes trenches With one way signs in brains How it dictates patterns Of protection Of avoidance Of self-sabotage Of self- destruction Of hyper-vigilance How it demands boundaries…
Green leaves sit Vibrate and valuable Huddled together Inside plastic Waiting They did their job They grew big Got picked And packaged And ended up In my fridge Where good intentions For health and happiness Wilt slowly Eight dollars and change Each week Wasted on Not following through
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…
A crystal looking glass fed with ghosts Reflecting an image that hurts to see Faraway glances piercing the light Leaving waves of dark that bite at me Gasoline torches and crosses of wood Brought to exorcise the eyelet lace Yellowing and faded as figures stood Mouths with multiple tongues speak Demanding a life half lived,…
I wanted to exit, bad at mending Can’t shake, don’t purposely over bake The thoughts they keep sending Estranged and over lines set center Worrying about what’s ahead But hey, shrug, I’m just a renter Pull up baseboards, hammer floors There’s gotta be something under here A city of dead behind half hanging doors Rooms…
I had to tear my heart from my throat As I walked by the mystery of you You’ll never know this but I felt you Absorbed part of your pain walking by And I still carry it with me each day A reminder of how hard life can be You lying in the cold dark…
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…
HASTYWORDS 