Category Archives: Poetry

Feral Muse

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My muse is feral.
She will not be trained.
She refuses to do tricks.
Everything is on her terms.
I try to encourage her to stay
I’ve installed a muse door
Leave food out every day
And hope.
On lucky days, she shows up
Sits beside me, soft and comforting
Humming pleasant new melodies.
Sometimes she takes the pen
Right out of my hand
And scribbles fantastic things in the margins.
She lets me hold her, but not too tight
Never too tight.
She’ll bullet out of there
If you love her too much
If you lose patience with her
If you don’t scratch under her chin
Exactly
The way she likes.
She loves you
But conditionally.
You are a means to her
And she will not hesitate
To abandon you
And visit a different artist instead
One with better food
One who always leaves the door open
Who spoils her with everything she wants.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apostrophe to a Tatty Old Pillow

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Good pillow
Keeper of wishes
Kisser of dreams
Wicker of wetness
Tear sponge
Writing prop
Sore muscle press.
You accept what’s ugly,
You bolster what’s weak.
You hold the disconsolate.
Selfless friend
You give fully,
Never ask.
You take kicks
Soften blows
Cushion bones
Swallow screams.
You are always there
Ready for another round
Padding the worst of what we are,
Filling in our spaces,
Supporting both
Our helpless loves
And brave imagines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wood Child

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Sweet wood child
Faery of running sap and cattail wisps
Imperceptible
To the coarser senses
Sing to me, elemental imp
Tickle my ears
With your light lays
Weave a spell of woodcraft
Quicken the arbor above
Caress my languishing spirit
In green delight.
Your melody seizes my soul
Unveiling before me
Every sylvan splendor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled

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You who have always been there
My first and last loves.
You have seen what I have seen
Struggled what I have struggled
Felt my pain, lost my loss.
You balance me.
Anything I can’t do, you take the task from me
And I will do the same for you.
You see the future I see
Before and behind us are parallel paths
With enough deviations
To give us something to talk about.
And we talk. And talk.
I could spend days locked with you in a small room
And come out smiling.
We share humor. We share darkness.
We oppose one another
Only when we feel the other needs correcting
We lovingly correct one another
Delivering the hard truths.
When you’re here, I am the most myself
When you’re gone, I am writ lowercase.
You fill in the gaps.
Without you,
I am halved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waking Wake

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Flayed to the bone
Skeleton exposed, oxidizing
I am Cain
Slain
At my wake by mistake
Whetting my weapon upon the table
Unstable
I try to stand tall
I stumble I fall
I go through it all
And you all
Watch me fall
With glass eyes negligent eyes eyes like microchips eyes like calculations

Reduced to a sideshow
I tumble, fumble, mumble
My skeleton exposed
The things they think they know
They try to describe
Right in my face but who are they
Someone gave me steel file joints
A cruelly placed arthritis
Hobbles me
I stagger to the door
I try the lock
Locked
Locked
I think I might be here forever
Forever under scrutiny
In this living autopsy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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