I am not
An old school plagiarist
Stealing all that I write
From this life
Obvious to those
Cursed with sight
Funny how I still
Know nothing despite
The writings on the wall
And the many scribbles
In the stalls
Bumping into other thieves
Busy at their theft
Rolling up their sleeves
All of us trying to take a bow
For something we were presented
Here I sit staring down
At my clinched fist
Such force in the squeeze
Veins protruding on my wrist
To be noticed they do insist
Fist cradled by my other hand
I watch as it slowly unfolds
Revealing nothing
As air rushes through my chest
I am filled with anguish
Crumbled papers thrown with disgust
Bounce across the floor
Filled with shades of me
That I am trying to explore
Diving into gaping holes
Bringing up words
That only reflect cracks
Merely feathers compared
To the weights on my back
Black Swan Poetry is featured in the current Tuck Magazine issue. Please use this link to read the poems and please browse this very nice magazine while there!
My mind is soaking
In the bottom of a bottle
Full of blithe
In attempt to revive
A kiss off to all
Foreboding feelings
As they slowly die
Energy increases to take
Over the controls
Of this ride
The shortest of moments
Are what life has to offer
These capture what we live for
Tied up in a bow
Or is it a knot
That we have to untangle
To reveal the treasures
That we seek
Memories like short videos
Become the highlight reel
For our lives
To be watched countless times
When there are no knots
To be found
Words from your heart
Escape your lips
Hang momentarily in the air
Then are forced back by the headwind
Blown through your hair
A few appear to get caught
As they hold on for dear life
Eventually losing their grip
And bouncing quickly across the ground
As if chasing their friends
Do you ever
Stop and think
About anything
That even matters
The blood of those that can
Permanently splattered
Across pages
You can’t read
The knowledge from their pain
Forever out of reach
In the midst
Of thousands of bubbles
One holds your key
Which one has it
And can extinguish
Your troubles
You are desperate
Grabbing frantically
The pages of my life
They lie before me
Being written all the time
As the sand slowly falls
I try to turn ahead
Blank pages is all that I find
My future beckons
My past softly calls
Walking forward
But forever leaning back
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