Poems

I played the same song four times in a rowand called it thinking. The tape hissed a little before the drums came in.I liked that part.It sounded like weather trying to get through the walls.Then the singer came on full of hurt and swaggerlike he had been born in tight black jeanswith one hand already […]

I keep writing thingsI would not say. That must mean one of two things.Either the page is braveor I am a coward. Maybe both. When I talk,I edit too fast.I hear the room in my head.I hear the answer coming back.I hear how foolish I might soundand the mouth closes up. The page does not

Worlds CollideDawg Twisting, turning in empty space,each evolved at their own pace.Worlds revolve unawareof other realms existing there. Dragons soar in a blood-red sky.Demons dance and angels cry.Elves and Fae hunt and play,believing it will stay that way. The thin membrane of the skinis all that holds the spirit in.While that membrane starts to tear,the

Worth DreamingDawg The sun sets on another empty day.I can hear the wind just outside the glass.Everything’s been said again, and again, and again —just trying to cleanse the past. I’ve forgotten about everything.I can hear you breathe against the pillow.We spent the night talking about everything,but there’s so many thingsI never wanted to know.

Why I’m An AlienDawg I’ve never seen a dogthat didn’t grasp the intent of another dog.Never seen birds that missedwhat their kind conveyed. Cat and mice somehow knowthe language of their species —taught by ancient wisdom,a primal instinct ingrained. Then I look aroundand find myself lostin a world I don’t grasp,among these evolved beingscalling themselves

Will Santa Come This YearDawg The wind was fierce along the frozen streets.Snow gathered on the barren boughs.My niece struggled to find the will to sleep,asking all the Christmas Evewhen, where, whys, and hows. I sat inside her doorwaywhere I could catch some lightfrom the spiral bulb out in the hall,and told her made-up storiesof

Whispers in the Obsidian ShroudUnder The Floorboards / 7DS Beneath the obsidian shroud of night,a realm where shadows dwell.We reign supreme–the sovereigns of death’s eternal spell. The air hangs heavywith the echoes of final sighs,where the rhythm of life surrendersand existence slowly dies. We are the inevitable end.The cold embrace of the tomb.A silent abyss

Whispers of the SlothfulUnder The Floorboards / 7DS In a fog where ambition’s flameis devoured,we dwell–the shadowsof Sloth’s darkened hour. Time drags.A torment of unrealized dreams.Lost chances driftin stagnant, still streams. Amidst unmade bedsdreams lie dormant, unclaimed.We feast on the desolate,by apathy tamed. This abyss where dreams are left to decayis our domain,where hope fades

When TomorrowDawg There’s a haunting in my head.The memories are stalking me,all the things I’ve done and said.I don’t know how to block it out.I just want to be left alone.I never knew I’d be like this.There’s so much I didn’t know. I see teapots smashed to smithereens,pottery shards scattered on the floor —fragments of

Where We Are BlindDawg I look into the mirrorand the reflection reveals every flaw.Each imperfection glaring back,an unending draw. To meet the gaze of othersI must adopt their view,conceal my true selfbeneath a front so askew. Why does it matterwhat my jeans’ size displays?In the crowd, does anyone truly careabout this charade? Hours spent on