#158 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

-25.05.20_22:23-

25.05.20_22:23
The winds swirl around me,
Empty of all, save a fine grit,
Abrasive and slowly eroding,
One repetitive day at a time
Until it’s finally over,
Six feet under or the oven,
And life no longer plucks at
You. 

-16.04.20_20:57-

Numb and insensate

Feeling slow,

-16.02.20_12:44-

It’s a choice I think about

As it calls to me

-01.02.20_01:03-

It sits on my chest
Dragging me down

-04.12.19_16:26-

Thinking about,

Blade on my wrist

-25.10.19_00:25-

Wanting to end it all
Finish struggling

-20.09.19_02:09-

It’s a whisper,
soft or Loud

-04.09.19_01:27-

*NOTE- the first video contains images of squirming bugs if you’re triggered/squeamish about them I suggest listening without watching or searching for another version of the songs

 

My brain oscillates

Manic to Depressed,

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-17.07.19_00:23-

-27.06.19_01:58-

I woke up
Went through the motions

-26.06.19_00:31-

The days,
Wearying, plodding exercise,

-08.06.19_13:23-

I see the stupid played out,
The news, social media and conversation,

-27.05.19_15:15-

 

 

*no listed or verifiable owner of the image found. If this is your image please notify me so I can provide credit

 

-09.05.19_01:21-

Seeing the evil
We do to each other,

-11.03.19_22:29-

Time slides
Unseen and unremarked

-26.02.19_23:43-

Watching my hand
Bright sliver firmly grasped

-25.01.19_22:50-

It grates,

Wearing at my spirit

-23.10.18_02:21-

Some days, it’s too much

-09.10.18_10:06-

Eyes open
My brain begins its call,

A Dark Peace

I didn’t mean to be found there
huddled in the corner—
red face and swollen eyes
were to have been protected by
the darkness….

-30.09.18_01:31-

I smoke to avoid
Dwelling on the thought,

-23.09.18_11:26-

Chain smoking,
Trying to hide from the

-09.09.18_20:08-

Depressed, uncaring,

-07.09.18_22:14-

Off in my corner

-19.08.18_10:03-

When it’s been but a day
The water is green

-30.07.18_22:50-

Crash and rage,

Shadows

I watch my shadow from noon to dusk,
Ever growing in size and lust,
Making me taller than a redwood tree
And stretching the limit of what I can be.

Until the fading sun falls all the way down
And I am beyond the starry lights of town.
Now lost and one with the black nothingness
I am left to mourn my colossal, black hubris.

I kick a stone as I walk home alone,
Struggling to forget the hope I was shown
And accept that I am an ego confined by flesh:
A spirit trapped, and a man depressed.