Poetry Pack 4

That's right. It's poetry time. I've been writing more of it lately so there may very well be more around the bend. Most of these are new but some of them are leftovers. Fun fact: the first poem was supposed to be on the very opening page of The Circuitry Might (hence the name), but we decided that a more formal foreword would be a better introduction to provide a sense of order to a chaotic set of stories. I wouldn't normally include it here since that era of me was about a year ago, but I just find it funny how relevant it is; Even more so now than it was then. It's almost like that anthology was a premonition of sorts. I could feel the train coming down the tracks, so to speak. I'll probably write more on this for the book's one year anniversary coming up. For now, chew on these poems if you'd like.

The Circuitry Might

I have seen the wires

The wires

Behind the walls

Opaque

I am not here right now

I am not here

Fading out of reality

As a squashed tear

On a cheek

Or a fair weather dream

On a beach

I’m like the lost steam

Gathered on the shower cap

I can’t keep track of time

Trouble

Counting grains in

The hourglass

I'm not the same

God gave me a cut

from a wet cloth

Hanging out to dry

on the towel rack

I am tracing paper

Chasing labor

Transparent

as an aching favor

To the waiting metal razer

over my head

On a rusty hinge

Of a hanging saber

I’m a magnet on the fridge

Decayed new fragrance

Stagnant how I live

This is not okay

Something has to give

Tattered days

No balance on my lid

Opaque Fragments

Shattered chest

Look like

Foaming vomit on a bib

The Median

Cold edge

My place

Is a Wednesday

Pick up

The package

The tray

On the ground

Black towers

Muffled

Inaudible

Panopticon

The reflection

wades across the spiraling

soggy walls of my

used canvas interior

the crystalline beacon's

exhaled light occupies

no true spectrum

but pervades a sharp

opening

against the

dripping

brick

Meanwhile- My eye

intercut by steel

like some kind of

forgotten

rusty slicer

from the bottom

kitchen drawer

rests wide

bars set up like

faded lashes

And behind them

I remain

Watching back

Returning a gaze

that may have

never been sent

Sparring

This stage isn't meant for me

Tough times never been tough

They had the blinds drawn

Sun lines gone eventually

The crack of dawn is enough

Those skylines were sent for me

I had no idea what time would tell

I just woke up one morning and

Someone poisoned the water well

I was in the bathroom when

I told Brielle that I

don't wanna die

I was begging for myself

On those cold nights

Did nothing but dwell

My mental was crushed

Saw my brain

locked in a cell

Woke up the next day

Then figured that oughta sell

I was off my meds

I couldn’t walk a line straight

I would deteriorate

at a pace exponentially

My soul’s dystrophy

Would have you giving up

I would take first place

In a mind race

With my foot skinning the clutch

The fact of the matter is:

I’m a published author

I’m a survivor of my condition

My guy, money is

Essentially the only thing missing

I sent beacons of distress

Collect calls from the block

I was doomed to construct.

My head was in discord

remember when it was just us?

Mentally had to adjust

Weight on the scale

That god had to replace

Pressure on my mental

Had me digging out

Those diamonds in the rough

So next time my thoughts

throw a side-kick

I can potentially duck

No whiplash

sit back and keep it a buck

yup :)

Poetry Pack 3

Some new and some old here. Writing has been difficult for me lately. You'd think I'd be getting a ton of it done because of all the quarantine time, but finding motivation, inspiration, and a head space that doesn't involve second-guessing stuff is proving to be difficult. I'll probably post a short update on novel progression and what not, but for now, here's some more poetry.

Collapse

I’m tryna do these dominoes.

I can’t even get like two to stay up.

Fuckers must be broken.

I got some pretty meaty hands, though.

No grace in these sausage fingers.

The foul odor lingers.

Acid Rain

Feel like I lost my mojo

Flapping glossy photos

You can hear the cracks when

The wind slaps the rowboat

Pant legs soggy

Head gone

And he left with no note!

I got a plaster cast on my brain

Going too fast in my lane

Maybe the past is a stain

Empty too vast and too plain

The wind shakes the mast in the rain

The wind shakes the mast in the rain

Dinner Time Villanelle

I pry through her meatloaf with dread

I had quite a surprise

What if it’s all in my head?

Speckled patches of red

I couldn’t believe my eyes

I pry through her meatloaf with dread

Squirming with little worms instead

Crawling through the meaty puss pies

What if it’s all in my head?

Juicy raw bits where they fed

Their larva hatching into flies

I pry through her meatloaf with dread

Out of crimson clusters they bled

Unaware of my teaming cries

What if it’s all in my head?

Fresh Life gnawing on remains of the dead

Blurring the lines between what’s alive

I pry through her meatloaf with dread

What if it’s all in my head?

Pills

Everyday is a hard pill to swallow

I can’t admit to defeat

I want to stand in the street

And yell at the cars

So they get to know me

I have my head in the stars

Face stuck to the pavement

On Sunset Boulevard

I guess I’m mad at myself

That’s another notch on the belt

How can I look at my health

Wax figure waiting to melt

That’s a hard pill to swallow

When you see the base of that

Rite Aid bottle

Grocery List

Tuna

Ice Cream

Milk

Eggs

Oatmeal

Fries

Diet Soda

Eggo Waffles

Apples

Tomato Sauce

Ham