Poems

Beneath Your Feet Beneath your feet, the ground decays,a map of broken truths.Its every crack a story carvedof lost and shattered youths. “Come closer,” whisper voices faint,“The mile is where you’ll see.The end you feared was never far—it’s where you’re meant to be.”

Almost Home The trees lean in familiar, but the branches feel wrong.Every mailbox is a memory, every mile drags too long.Windows cracked open to rooms gone cold.I see myself in the shadows—young, bruised, too old. The porch still creaks under weight I can’t lose.There’s blood on the welcome mat, and I know whose.They say you

Among the Graves Where Silence Reigns Amidst the graves where silence reigns,you shatter chains, ignore the pains.No ghosts of sorrow haunt your stride,you laugh as darkened fears collide. Where shadows fall, you take your stand,unfazed by death’s cold, ghostly hand.With every crypt and tombstone bare,your spirit bursts beyond despair. In graveyards deep where echoes fade,you

Among the Graves of Yesteryears Among the graves of yesteryears,you strut with shadows on your heels,dismiss your doubts, you’ve no more fears.The tombstones whisper ancient deals. Where once you faltered, now you dance.Each specter’s moan a dark romance,you waltz through terror, never sway,dismiss your doubts, you’ve no more fears. In moonlight’s grip, the dead improvetheir

Above the Underneath I wait where the nerves twitch, where your breath skips,taste your pulse when you lie and say you’re fine.You dress me in excuses, lock the door and hope,but I’ve lived in your marrow longer than hope. You keep your face blank, but your dreams betray.Every scream you swallow just sharpens my blade.I

All Mad Here The walls are too close, breathing down my neck with a heat that tastes like metal,each step echoes in this twisted maze, where the floor shifts beneath my feet like it’s got something to say,but I can’t hear it over the blood rushing in my ears, pounding out a rhythm I can’t

What’s Spot Got? (Chapter 1) A day like any other,cartoons on the glass,but one of us was missingas the morning colors passed. We found Spot behind the plants,arranging glowwy stones,swimming circles, one two three four,in a world all his own. “I found a magic rock,” he said,and left it right at that.Spot being Spot, he

What’s Spot Got? (Chapter 2)Dreams Alive Bubba woke up talking futures,Blignaught Nuts and time machines,Molly smiled and said go back to sleep,you’re tangled up in dreams. But the others felt it too,their dreams more real, more there,and even Molly said a maybehanging in the water’s air. Bambina mumbled in her sleep,Abe whispered “Arr, me matey,”Rex

The Whatzit and Whozit of Somewhere A whatzit and a whozitlived in a town next to the Something Sea,a place called Somewherethat was really nowhereand home to a whatzit, a whozit, and me. The whatzit and whozitwere known all aroundfor making the funniest tales,but me, I’m a goldfish,so I am just knownfor how I take

This Poem Stinks The hearing of herrings are tuned to the gas,That each are passing from each other’s buns..But Harold the herring brought panic en masse,When he found some baked beans– and ate more than one.