Leading Up to the New Book – 30 Poems in 30 Days – What Remains

I’m gearing up for the next release in my series of poetry by doing another 30 in 30. If you haven’t, check out the first installment, The Voices In My Head, on Amazon. The next installment will be out on October 26th, my birthday!

What Remains

Ashes smoking
On wasted fields
Burning away
Lost memories

A unforgiving slate sky
Pressing down from above
Crushing down
Forgotten words

Nothing will grow here
There will be no rebirth
The lark has called
Its last call

Tendrils of smoke
Wind to the heavens
Like fingers reaching
For a hand not there

Here they lie
Spent

Leading Up to the New Book – 30 Poems in 30 Days – Shaking

I’m gearing up for the next release in my series of poetry by doing another 30 in 30. If you haven’t, check out the first installment, The Voices In My Head, on Amazon. The next installment will be out on October 26th, my birthday!

Shaking

I am trembling
Caught up over there
In things that have
Yet to become

I am shivering
Thinking thoughts
Of time long
Gone by

Thunder hums
In the back
Of my mind

Lightning buzzes
Right in front
Of my eyes

Every hand
Is a hungry claw

Every word
Is a charming snake

I am gone
Lost in the edges
Of light and shadow

I am running
Running
Through mine fields

Of my own creation

 

Leading Up to the New Book – 30 Poems in 30 Days – A Feather

I’m gearing up for the next release in my series of poetry by doing another 30 in 30. If you haven’t, check out the first installment, The Voices In My Head, on Amazon. The next installment will be out on October 26th, my birthday!

A Feather

If a whisper came to life
It would be a feather
Lighter than air
On which it floats

Drifting across sunlit horizons
Carrying memories
Of hopes once held tightly
Now lost to the selfish wind

I still feel the brush of that finger
Hear the tickle of that whisper
When I lie alone in futile prayer
Beseeching silent gods that never answer

A feather that flies
Just out of reach
Not matter how far I stretch
How persistently I chase

I am met only by the call
Of inevitable night
Dropping, dropping
On the last rays of sunset

New Poem – To Be Seen

To Be Seen

Drying tear streaks
Evaporating into
Drifting sunlight

Burning scars
Awakening old anxieties
Long forgotten

Unhidden
For the first time
In far too long

The stinging touch
Of gentle fingertips
Electric on her skin

All the horrors
Imagined and real
Thirsty for life

To be seen
Desire and fear
Wrapped in one

Here is freedom
In the palm of her hand
Unable to be grasped