Sentenced

My first thought
When my daughter was born
Was that I just killed someone.

Her gurgling cries of life
Contrasted with the ominous, death tone
Of her mother’s solemn flatline.

And as the doctors hung their heads,
Declaring my lovely wife dead,
I realized I had just killed again.

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HE BETRAYED HER HEART

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Sitting Alone At The Bar
Nursing A Whiskey
In The Middle Of The Afternoon
With A Far Away Look In His Eyes

I Sat Down Next To Him
And Asked The Barkeep For A Beer
To Quench The Thirst
Of A Humid Summer Day

Are You A Head Banger

boardofwisdom.com

 

We’ve all witnessed the effect that music can bring forth
Hard Rock or Metal can causing head movements to be seen
While some bang in earnest and some are just joking around
Those images of head banging are not the kind that I mean.

Three More Meetings

Three More Meetings

With just one step

On the wild side

I found myself

On a crazy ride.

I Thought We’d Have More Time

Wishing I’d told you,  your smile lights up a room

But you already knew that, I casually assumed.

Not showing you or telling you, wouldn’t be a crime,

Obviously, I thought we’d have more time.

Love Me Like I’m Gone

I just wish you would love me
like you already know
That I would leave you twisted
If I decided to go
But you take me for granted
Because I’ve always been here
You refuse to acknowledge
That I could disappear
I could go chasing for love
That would make me dance in the rain
Or find a new reason
To smile Again

My Guardianship ~ Our Guardianship

‘Tis but gain to guard the light in one’s eyes.
‘Tis but gain.

Regret

o foolish self!
waters change shape
as you indulge your hands in it
think not so you made it shape

tin cans and shooting stars

[ground control to major tom]
I wish you wrote me a love note,
and sent it to me
on a fragile paper crane.
I’d fly away
to be a bright and shining star
like her.

Too Late

Fool! All that time you had to tell him,
All those ways to show you care.
What exactly did you think would
Happen, if your soul you did lay bare?

Reminisce

Looking back over the past is universal
Everyone spends some time reliving events
Those we’ve met and decisions we’ve made
Representing times of joy and some laments.

Promise Me

Promise me that you’re happy, that nothing is breaking your heart,
Promise me that your house is strong, and isn’t just falling apart.

That the kids fill your heart full of happiness, and give you a feeling of pride,
That your wife is a wonderful woman, who reminds you each day of your bride.

I hope that your job is fulfilling and lets you exercise your fine mind,
That your downtime is fun and relaxing, with friends of that special kind.

you’re not a shovel, and i’m not your dirt

Before the week has had
its fill in misery,
an emptiness
you continue to leave behind
buries itself in my spine.
Maybe that’s why
I can’t see the scars yet

I never promised you a garden, you’ll just water me down.

I thought my throat was marbles,
and velcro was the lining
holding my organs in place.
Because I am cotton socks;
black and brittle heels
scraped bloody
to the corks in my bones.

trigger finger and streaks in the wax

I am terrified of loving you, because it’s all too easy, and I wish I didn’t know how to aim.
Maybe then I wouldn’t leave bullet holes in your heart. But I want to love someone.
Someone who could define me without words, but maybe I was meant to be alone…
because I could hurt you. And all I can do is skin myself against the barbs of self-loathing
(I don’t deserve a single fuck).

good intentions don’t want my love anymore

Kidnap my attention,
and drag titanic raindrops
behind the curtains
of broken arithmetic

[one times zero still equals
a black hole and a bartender].

ii.
The kitchen clock
can’t wipe Wednesday’s brow
with epileptic fingers,
and the fridge throws hate
in the form of dismembered
chicken wings

under the influence of giants

Bleed summer out with
empty hands like broken bottles,
and a shoe that never fits;
crickets don’t play their songs
on plywood violins, anymore.

Regret

In this competition of anger
We go almost out of sight
Your smiles that destroy
Only your ego is left
You lose us in your torments

When you came back
You weren’t the same as before
Your lies spoiled the person you could be

four sticks

mother.
With an obese world
crimping your shoulders,
you shriek
at your delinquent son.

He could’ve been a tower
but he’s burning,
because you didn’t build him
with sincere hands
years ago.

Kickstart the Funeral

Children are screaming
bloody murder
behind the curtains
of a rundown playhouse.

I can’t help but remember
dandelion summers spent
trying to convince Ken
that Barbie was a slut.

Where is she? Poetry challenge: “Self Portrait”

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Can you the answer see,can you please

where is the person who used to be me.

I have tried to find her and searched high and low,

in and out but she is hidden somewhere I cannot see her though.

She was bright and she was funny always had a song to sing

A  job to finish and a question to answer her smile was electric it had a certain zing.

The Curb

Alone again on this cold, dark, curb
Shivering in the rain
Waiting out the endless night
Engulfed by pain and shame

Soaked shoes make dams in the gutter
The stream, like life, rushes by
Indifferent to my existence
Too busy to care why I cry

Rain pounds my hatless head
A mighty sea on a broken shore
Magnifies my grief to the point
I can barely breathe anymore

nails for breakfast, tacks for snacks

i.
Torn ligaments
and hairline fractures
nestled in the floor
of heartbreak;
somewhere
just beyond avenues
of cheap driftwood
and sidewalk prophets.

ii.
It isn’t every day
she hits rock bottom
with diamond fists;

swallowing words
like flammable vomit.

“If Only…”

“If Only…”

“If only…” he said
‘til the day he died
Let regrets drown
His dreams inside

Paralyzed in the present
By mistakes of the past
Gave up on living
Until dying at last

Keep It On Wax

i.
Tonight
I want to melt the silence
between your
cloud-flecked vignettes
and ritual rejection.

You are a fallen star.

ii.
Tonight
I want to coerce
stucco and velvet
into salivating
for the bitterness
in your sulfur bones.

Exhale

i.
Tomorrow you’ll follow a textbook
because you’ve lost your map
somewhere between atheism
and Christianity.

Soon they’ll know how brittle you are,
before they trade wishbones
for shooting stars and black cats;
when their clothespin fingers
press into your larynx.
You’re just too damned superstitious.

ii.
Syllables committed suicide today,
smashing into brick walls, muted.
All the while you’re slipping pebbles
into airbag lungs,
with vodka salutations*
tattooed on your knuckles,
because you need to be reminded
to greet your ghosts.

Not Now,later I promise

OH! Don’t you just hate deadlines, they really do my head in. It’s all corporate times  and their patience is paper thin.

Yes I’ll take some time off and you and I with the kids we’ll spend the day. I promise you, I promise you, just it will not be today.

Up each morning at 5am. Shower, coffee, car you have to be seen working hard or you never will go very far.

Yes I’ll take some time off and you and I with the kids we’ll spend the day.I promise you, I promise you, just it will not be today.

Home late every evening, are the kids in bed already. Yes love please a big one I need a drink, my nerves to steady.

Yes I’ll take some time off and you and I with the kids we’ll spend the day.I promise you, I promise you, just it will not be today.

Yes I am important and I am always at the ready I have to work the weekends the firm would collapse with out me and it earns us an extra penny.

The Persistence of Gravity

i.
There is something ravenous
in the stars
pinned to gossamer curtains
draped across the sky,
it is similar to drowning.
Or more like falling
into wooden arms,
hollow and unfamiliar.

ii.
Craft me a world
where the byproduct of dreams
are happy consequences
of your braided embrace.
Where braille intensifies
the deep rivets
of your remorse.