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 :)