Yet once again
I whiffed swung
My bat and
Missed hitting the
Trickery that men
Lob at me
Like summer showers
My affair is
Over as quickly
As it began
Not even friends
Just memories of
Forced kisses and
Cold desperate affection
Author: Harlan Didrickson
I first started writing this blog as a way to refocus my thinking after a debilitating mental breakdown in 2008. Having been educated in writing, I had hoped that my love for words would have left a trail for me to follow and, well, here we are.
Morning
The morning dark
Except for flashes
Of light and
Thunder like evil
Wizards are fighting
Storms approach quickly
Like galloping horses
As the air
Is thick with
Moistures like loofa
Sponges sudsy with
Rain the morning
Is stirred like
A soupy pot
GhoulishMorn
The night hangs
In tall trees
Clouds of moon-glow
Wisps of Luna’s
Veil drapes the
Mighty pines as
Soupy clouds drift
Lower like tails
Of kites getting
Caught in power
Lines haunting the
Ghoulish landscape frightens
Even birds as
They whisper their
Quiet morning melodies
MeInstead
There are some
That live in
A perpetual spring
Flora and fauna
Charging through men
Just like Charlamagne
Conquering the scores
Me oh me
Instead prefer soft
Whispers and the
Bristles of beards
On tender throats
I walk quietly
Through fields and
Pick the prettiest
Of the pretty
Creating a bouquet
Of the wildflowers
OverOutAndNow (for Christopher)
And then after
Pop spray fizz
We were left
With the flatness
Of over out
Like sun after
The hail storm
Littered with chunks
Of the sky
Friends starting now
Our past behind
Like rear view
Mountains in back
Time right now
To decide what
If absolutely anything
We’re going to
Be like stranded
Motorists on highways
Choosing which direction
We will walk
Saving us now
