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
What is hidden
What do I seek
What are the words
I dare not speak
Lurking in the shadows
These thoughts they creep
To fully explore them
They beg but still not a peep
Refusing to acknowledge they exist
Feels like the best way
To deal with this
Hi I am lost again
I know this fatigues you
My closest and oldest friend
Having to read this head line
Forever on my front page
That I sometimes try to dress up
As something better than the constant Black and grey
Unfortunately the best I can do
Are very weak shades of sage
In this life that’s so hard
I try to capture an image of you
To keep it in a jar
And carry with me
No matter where I go
Or how far
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!
With all the desperation and power
Of a young woman trapped in a love gone bad
She bangs on the door
Such energy when released into the universe
Attempts to reach whatever it can and destroy
He feels the vibration coming through the floor
Sitting on the couch
All sound from the world around him blocked
By the music in his ears
The Sound so thick
It is as he is adrift in it
But still the message received by his feet
Is all too clear
I am watching as my glass
Tips over and melts
Onto the table
Hands on the clock spinning
A translucent blur
As time ceases to exist
The roof lifts and breaks away
Escaping this place
Floor falls suddenly unattached
Appearing smaller until
It gone from my sight
Now left staring at my feet
Somehow hovering over
What now appears to be a darkened sky
Holding arms out from my sides
I slowly and softly rotate
Eyes closed tight
Air feels good upon my face
What do we need to
Mend this divide
To act as a seal
To these two independent lives
Subconscious whispers
Of what we think we deserve
Sentences only half heard
Driving us crazy
A taunting puzzle
It’s utterly absurd
Pulled forward
Or were you being
Pushed from the back
One eye on the prize
No matter how off track
Meandering through the forest
Before the trees
Always slowed by distractions
But just can’t fight
Random fleeting intrigues
blackswanpoetry 