Category Archives: Poems

Error

I can’t see the screen
For the blur has transcended
From a slight mist
To a most barricading fog
Its hazy gray makes no room
For the forgiveness asked
And I’m not sure
The sun’s rays will make their way
Through this blackened mess.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

The traffic

Can you stab
Once more
Unattended
I waited
Left
Yet surrounded
Driving in standstill
Red light, green light
No, yellow is not a color I like.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

The senseless

It’s the little things
But sometimes also naturally, the big things
Or the non-existent things
Nonsense yet full of sense
Oh dear, what an awful mess we’ve made.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

A how

I just needed a little help
A whisper left unheard
Can’t seem to forget
It’s all quite absurd

I have to admit
When asked, no reply
A choice made simply
By any passerby

I voiced with reason
Subconsciously of course
It’s all quite logical
When left with no choice.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

A slip

Yes please
No thanks
Quite enough
Just a bit
Up and down
Here we go
Yes I like you
That’s for sure.

Tagged , , , , , , ,

To whisper

He knew
Yet he didn’t
Because I told him
Yet I hadn’t
Because his words
Unchanged
My listening
Remained
Untouched
Yet never the same.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Going, going, gone

Hello
Here I am
Over here
To the right
Up high
To the left
Just above
Yes
No, not quite
Wait
What
No
I’m here
I swear
No
No
Hey, where’d you go
I swear
I’d never leave you behind.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

To begin again

A story of adornment
Begins
The skyline reaches
Further
The breeze whispers
With augmented sonar
The sheer lace
Enveloped skin
Hello
Simply said
It begun.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Tears

And he asked
Is it over now?
Deeply troubled
I stared
Yes, I replied
I believe it is.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

The worst

I think the worst thing is the waiting
For a message
A phone call
An appearance
A like
A comment
A nudge
A touch
A hello
How stupidly you just sit there
For a sign
That in most cases never comes
How you count the minutes
The passing of time
And that my dear
That actually hurts.

Tagged , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: