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echothis morning in the shower,echo1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i reached out through the mist
to find a faceless echo standing before me,
a dark blurred apparition
a mute memory, motionless.
i took its hand, and wove our fingers together
and slid my arm around its waist
and pulled it close to me
and stood silently breathing
while the hot water ran down our shoulders.
Sanctity.A pilgrim atSanctity.3 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
the half remembered ruins,
sunset wiring
starspun and
burning low --
alive, somehow,
at the night's watch.
DepartureA hapless loser;Departure3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a lionhearted wallflower, if you will.
Browbeaten, sheepishly slipping through the curtains on the window.
Intimidated by the high-pitched noise you hear when there is no other sound in the night.
Bellowing out like a soldier stuck in his trenches.
I am heard, as I impinge your eardrums,
yet you're as steady as a statue during a windstorm.
My mother always told me that I was a well balanced child;
I had a chip off both of my shoulders.
One day the gulls will swarm down and make a nest of our bones
and you will still be as level headed then as you are now.
So go my friend, I bid you adieu.
Cast off your anchors, and feel t
SupernovaIt was a '67 orange ChevroletSupernova9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tinted windows, spattered paint
And the smell of hot sauce that never quite left
Leather kept the warmth of better summers
Dancing shoes and faded denim
Gas like Heaven on these city streets.
And wherever they went they took fireworks with them
Bursts of colour in the blackened sky
Just like popping paint balls against the drop sheets
Making love when there were backs to break and wars to see
No different than
Shaking orange
A chugging engine, sand and burning feet.
Years later it still ran smooth like memories
Of slapping wasps and tipsy victories
Giving freely of their speckled innocence
And gai
Haiku IIIwhite cherry blossomsHaiku III2 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
melt on frosted window panes -
harbinger of Spring
electric skeletonsI danced with a ghostelectric skeletons3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
at the prom. I built
a shrine out of paper
and ink, and used
lithium-ion batteries.
the ghosts line my
window-sill. breathe:
take a long drag of
winter air, a prayer
in your lungs, and the
blood on the bathroom
floor is a human
sacrifice. and
somewhere
far away
a god would cry
if only she knew.
ChurchGhostly cathedral --Church2 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
dark shadows follow mourners
on their way to mass.
Frigid.Without you I'm a winter heart:Frigid.3 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
a cold sunset and
a cloudy sunrise,
a night on my shoulder
like a ten minute dream
amidst the silent snow --
nothing lasts forevermore.
Ice on fire,
a melting dream,
three ways to
break apart;
will you feel anything at all
when the rain stops and
when the heart freezes?
what we need mostby dolan greywhat we need most3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i.
blue skies overhead, and
the seagulls come in
from the bay, looking for some
better nourishment
than can be found
at sea.
ii.
i came in from the field,
seeking shelter and
solace
from the burning sun.
you greeted me in the doorway,
brown eyes and brown hair.
iii.
we're the same,
those gulls and i,
thermals lifting us up,
hot wind,
our concentric lives
bringing us back to
what we need most.
Garbed in BlueSquawking buzzardsGarbed in Blue3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hang above my rigid frame
Awaiting, with a sickly hunger
Gathering, massing
Thieving of these winter skies
Far gone and bleeding
Where the muskets bore through
Not a whimper in my voice
Not a thought in my skull
I graciously
Die, blissfully unaware
It was a fleeting honor
For the twentieth Maine
Garbed in sacred blue
Bayonets at the ready
We sprang for madness
Shouting to higher glory
As the cannons butchered, and maimed
Sparring not a soul
No fresh face unscathed
I caught my fate
Swift, clean, and painless
Another notch to their belts
Another name, pressed and sold
Tanganyika1.Tanganyika3 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Your naïve welcome
and medical maroon;
temperature tolerance.
2.
Speckled religion,
rituals of life and death;
viscous blood taboo.
3.
A band of crimson,
ancient June in the desert;
the opulent ivory.
4.
Patient and scarlet,
sacredly perpetual,
masks a ladybug.
5.
Flitting acceptance,
powerful saffron and myrrh,
a tribal countenance.
Through the fire and the flamesby Dolan GreyThrough the fire and the flames3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Snow falls, this morning;
daybreak.
Even these early rays of light
seem deadly, piercing to us.
Night falls, this evening;
darkness.
Even the laughter of our children
sounds wicked, awful.
Battles, small and large,
through marshes and marches,
send the spirits of the slain
through shadows, to the sea.
Riding on the steppes
watching the dark towers,
we know they go through flames, too.
So now we rise up,
liberated by the elements,
towards whatever trials await,
our journey only just begun.
Behind the sun,
behind the stars,
below the surface of the moon; our souls --
Distanced, time ticks on
for the souls of the dead;
we
A Withering SailHe hungers notA Withering Sail3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
For what the ocean may yield
As his eternity winds down
Trudging slow toward its final hour
Home
Sways atop the bustling tide
Creaking and moaning
Her bones rusted and brittle
Tired from her long way
Courting generations shore to shore
The man
Holds steady at the helm
With only the lapping waves
To ease his battle hardened earlobes
White locks flutter
As the high noon star crumbles
Disintegrating, into a cool blistering purple
But the ages dragged on
With a glare of hopelessness
Weighted by the open, the vast and empty
Gem encrusted nights
No longer blanket the shuttering vagabond
With drained pupils fixed forw
Still-life.The best of my paintings:Still-life.3 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
the hum of
a sad piano,
a morning cigarette,
and a graveside angel;
all I ever wanted.
MarrowI caught my reflection by herMarrow3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
silk spun lips; She was
as beautiful as the slender
moon. She doesn't say
hello too often but this
time she lingered quite a bit longer
than usual - so it sounded by the
ticks on the old grandfather
clock down the hall.
What a delicate heart she holds.
How heavy it must be to carry - I
could see the weight in her
rain cloud eyes. She has never looked
so sweet, to me, even with those
hollow bruises underneath. Terse
or not, I found my marrow. And while
I could not keep hold for long; it was
something that had been lost for such
a long time. It is still there, I see -
I have seen. How
hastily I fell for her di
Cursive of Constellations This cosmos is contaminated withCursive of Constellations1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
congregations of outlying stars
This cosmos cannot hold
as unknown and untold
for even the lost
can't ever get that far
I love you.I am not myself these days;I love you.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I find myself, more and more,
in the fog of window panes and the
cold, misty morning air.
I am not myself these days;
I lose myself, more and more,
in the way light catches off
certain clouds of sunset: prisms.
What is different?
I love walks in the park,
clichéd as that may be,
and I enjoy the taste of the rain.
What else is different?
I am not willing, try as I might,
to accept or acknowledge that
the sins of my ancestors reflect in me.
Of course, this is all since I met you.
I wish, sometimes,
to feel less like a piano,
and more like a harpsichord that
only you know how t
DormantWinter is a blank slate,Dormant8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
but not like Rousseau's—
it cleanses
sucking out warmth like poison
leaving only windburnt frost
tacked to the window pane
all we remember
is the numbness
the shuddering
skittish steps across the ice
snowflakes pasted to our faces
smoke rising from our lips
dragged across bleak clouds
winter has us captured
bound by fur and walls
drifting in our eggshelled silence
bone cold until we birth ourselves by warmth
emerge from our shells wet and heaving
uncurl our fingers one by one
joints crackling like fire at our backs
until spring comes
drip by tender drip
old wounds thaw
we are found raw,
to love you is to lieby dolan greyto love you is to lie4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to love you is to lie;
to deceive you is to betray myself.
to curse you is to send my heart to something else,
perhaps a ghost of what I imagined,
last spring, in the rain, under the full moon,
that open heart, willing soul, and I knew them both.
to love you is to die;
to trick you is to destroy myself.
shattered windows and bloodstains,
my mind torn from my body as I tried to
fathom
my stars all falling from the sky.
loving you is agony;
shunning you is pain.
not again, said my corpse,
my battered conscience,
this house is built on stone!
but summer brought heat,
autumn brought wind, and
winter brought the chill of de
Frigid DuskFrigid Dusk departsFrigid Dusk7 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Last ray of light vanishes
Stealing innocence
church dogs1church dogs3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
pet rat
fat and content
with its short life
2
children riding
a barn-sour horse
to nowhere
3
birds scattering
the shadows
of hot air balloons
4
at the zoo-
sneaking a grope
by the python cage
5
new urine
on an inverted leaf-
jogging path
6
phone sex-
car window down
leaves and voices drifting in
7
highway stretches far
but not far enough-
dead skunk
8
early morning walk
incontinent ladies
and church dogs
9
soccer ball out of bounds
kids running
for the ice cream truck
10
tackle box-
the ciggies Dad left
ten years ago
(Heated) Water and I told her;(Heated) Water2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
water won't waste gravity.
she breathed in
scraps of a
wonderful life,
until she melted
down.
(she loved to swim -
sea-burns & headaches;
the way it made
her smile, she
couldn't stop)
her clammy breaths
enraptured
humidity,
as heat felt her
up.
(she wanted to drown -
wayward & dehydrated;
this time it made
her energy
stagnate)
and I told her;
water won't waste gravity.
zeroi sworezero4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i would never number the poems
i wrote about myself because that
would be like ticking off the days
until my breakdown;
i was a moth, unapologetically throwing myself
at any gleam of hope; wasting my wings
on industrial promises
colors always felt much more
appropriate for the purple boiling
beneath my heart and the pallid
purposelessness of my head,
but i was born into a colorless world--
no one sees me behind the metallic scars
of my skin and iron grating of my voice against
the grain; no one sees me as more than
gray regret or monochrome mistakes,
no one sees me but
all i ever wanted was for a
fallen god with feathered he
Sta.sh
