Oh the truth
that bitter pill
impossible to swallow
without gagging and
throwing it up
forcing it out
bits and pieces
and the bile
the burning man
the hanging man
at the mercy
of those who’ve
judged without understanding
and now naked
hearing the jeers
I wait for
salvation to come
in the silence
heard at end
and the peace
if lies are
fire then truth
is the water
Category: Creativity
Drunk
I do remember
popping you open
like a bottle
of freshly shaken
fizzy water or
wine and you
spilling over me
and this then
is what I
thought thinking that
drunk on love
must be like
Eye
It’s not
the going
through but
the other
side that
ever matters
the doorway
never says
what’s after
just welcome
and squeeze
in you
do like
some rusty
old key
unlocking everything
else after
LittleThings
There were things
that I purposefully
put away and
forgot buried deeply
as far down
as they’d go
some I swallowed
others left behind
and a few
where I knew
I could find
once the ransacking
stopped and I
was left for
dead and now
like little flowers
that I notice
they are sprouting
funny little things
love like that
never ever forgets
where you are
Promises
I try not
to think really
for the pearls
of good times
have broken free
from their string
and now lay
strewn about scattered
each one duller
than when joined
together as one
such are things
tied with knots
of tired promises