Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
Old age is a smarmy being that pushes you from behind, confusing you with multiple choices and dithering doubts. Cutting some strings, and tightening others, it challenges your daring of pain, and wants your attention during sleep. Ah, this life and its just desserts. *** Art by Remedios Varo
~Somewhere by a brook~I say. A Freudian slip. You say What? What was that? I say ~Nothing~ but can't keep a leash on plodding thoughts that say ~Plant a small bush~ ~One that's out-of-place~ ~One that will thrive on leavings~ *** Image: Flickr.com
Once, within my hearing, and thinking himself alone, he said I wish I were dead. And I didn't man up to that. I god damn kept my hands in my pockets and shied away from his tortured road. And now, in my time of life, I see to it that things are kept clean, most... Continue Reading →
~I remember me. How I looked to books as if they were to be my next meal. How I bought brushes, special pencils and a book of right paper, still blank. How I sang, at first haltingly, then to praise. In magnets, like poles repel. Their force remains, but dissipates in mulish waste.~
At water's edge I plied the sand for vacant shells and stones to skip, so flat. There, there was a tree that had given up, acute in its angle, embarrassed at the nakedness of its bleached roots. Close by, an eyeless carcass grinned, in the throes of its last hysterics. [Image: https://pixabay.com/users/jamesdemers-3416/%5D
A diving moth caught in venetian rays, like a bedside meteor. In soreness of spirit, I chew on thoughts of old romancers, closet dancers.
A recent change of heart. A looming change of mind. An anxious left-handed day.
What is here,by design,is umbilical to me.This feed of lifeand blood of red.But now,instead,a sorry headthinks of strifeand the future of a knife.
* Mental health triggers, suicidal ideation* God. You know, I'm just washing dishes, feeling useful and kind of self-satisfied. Haven't dropped anything or cut myself, even though the bothersome cat is weaving around my legs. I swear- if he had a ball of yarn, I would have been a coccoon by now. See, it's the... Continue Reading →
I would make you smile but I can’t You want me to smile but I can’t Moods change in increments One step forward two back There’s another can’t- It’s the one about getting rid of crutches, just now.
AreMyFeetOffTheGround 