Benched

Naked trees Missing Their autumn leaves Chimney stacks Fuming A protest to - cold, dreary days - grey, lifeless skies - duty ... keeping noxious gases at bay - feeling stuck We too Wish to Jump into piles of leaves Play catch with the breeze Make mud pies and acorn owls Instead ... We watch... Continue Reading →

Flag

In God we trust The Birth of a Nation Built on Slavery Subjuctation and Forced Sterilization Brave In full glory Home of the Free (well ... it's supposed to be) Freedom Buckling In this Perilous fight Under The proudly held Stars and stripes Flag As a call for Equal Rights Or the other To maintain... Continue Reading →

Acid

I found my armoured knight Sadly He is not shining I stayed Devoted Polishing the metal Carefully Monitoring my movements Waiting for him to ... open up Still He continued to rust Becoming more rigid Leading to A corrosive death Slowly Eating away At Both of us

Pregnant w/ Dee

I remember the first time I felt my daughter move Sitting on the tattered basement apartment couch across the driveway, waiting for my breakfast share of banana fritters - a Sunday specialty at Tina and Michelle's house I was probably slightly beyond four months We hung out all the time sometimes partying through the astronomical... Continue Reading →

Opaque (Sonnet XXII)

in the same room once safe spaces now our tomb stifling places a stunning maze of concrete walls between us - displays our silent brawls poured over pain built-up over years yet ... here we remain trapped - smiling veneers among floor to ceiling of palpable distances with no plans to reconcile our differences

Known Unknowns (Sonnet XXI)

in my augmented reality your fragmented visions haunt me inescapable vivid remnants of our dullest days and darkest nights flash across my bedroom ceiling in multi-coloured neon lights creeping along the fringes of my dreams everything we'd never be since maybe circumstances ended it prematurely

Overbite

When biting more than I can chew I'll spit it out, but not at you I always have a doggy bag Food in there never goes bad

This is a Hibun. Inspired by bits of all the true crime stories I consume. Prose poetry at the top, haiku at the bottom. Yes! I know prose poems aren't supposed to have line breaks but reading a massive clump of text online can be a challenge. SO! I broke the rule. Also! A nod... Continue Reading →

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