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The Concrete Wall (Poem)
Stupid mind, stupid heart.
I forget and forget again
That home does not exist.
A small yellow leaf drifts to the ground.
Rain patters on the roof.
I begin to bang my head
On hope’s hard concrete wall.
Is this it? This is it! Home now? Home!
Stop it, I say, stop it right now!
The wall, long dappled with red,
Has been stained by bloody foolish tears.
I’m tired, too tired to go through this again.
Rest for an hour, ignorant self.
I’m not staying here for long.
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Writing In Ignorance (Poem)
always considering the worth of this
the energy effort expended in writing
transient ephemeral malleable
these words one thing to me the writer
quite another to you the reader
why should anyone want to bother
why should I
if we cannot even see our own faces
then what do we see in the words of another
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don’t say it (Poem)
when you suppose you’ve found your most difficult task
be wary indeed
do not say aloud
“this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done”
deities have keen hearing and cruel wit
with an illustrious history of punishing hubris
if you must speak, say only
a murmured bit of thanks then
go about your onerous work
best not to say anything at all,
lest you find yourself transformed
a tree or cricket at best
forever having an eagle dine on your liver at worst
