-01.02.20_01:03-

It sits on my chest
Dragging me down

The Oak

In the park there stands an old oak.
I know not how aged it is,
But it was here before I was
And it will remain long after I do not.

Every morning I pass by its thick trunk,
The oak waves its branches, goodbye.
And every night I drunkenly stumble home,
It’s standing still, in silent judgment.

Even when I dash past and miss its farewell
In the rush to catch the last possible train
To $9.50 an hour misery with no future,
I know the stoic oak is standing there,
Gayly laughing at my fleeting and meaningless struggles.

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-21.02.18_23:18-

The pendulum cycle
Tips get quite extreme

The Wheel

Inside this cir – cle, ten billion hands are pushing,
wheeling us around the universe,
searching for the light.

We have the torches, but the stars
we are not yet alighting, our agency stunted
by the promises of a silent creator.

From my window, I am watching the spectacle;
it is a ring of fire, plowing over the land,
a racing bright wind, burning and eating.

-09.11.15_21:53-

I feel the demon rouse,
Talons flex
Blood drips, from lengthening
Fangs,
I watch,
Possessed,

Circles

I am a circle
Made of steel
Equal on every side
Rolling, with same distances
From every meaning

-08.01.15_19:53-

Dead inside,
The seed that is
My soul,
Waiting for the time
When it can germinate

-13.05.14_20:48-

Rages pulses
Out from my heart
Settling in my brain,
Red tint
To all that I see,
Over pressured
With no release valve
In sight,
Wanting a hug
And to lash out