The way they run
Then hop
Screech
Then quark
Between the trees
Peering between the leaves
Going back in time
In the glint in their eyes
Reaching out
To time gone by
A flash of a dinosaur
in the blink of an eye.
Poetry
A story of sheep.
Once upon a time, there was a herd of sheep.
And that herd of sheep walked over to the fence of another herd of sheep.
And the sheep that had walked over to the other herd said, ‘Bahhh!’ in a mocking tone and then said, ‘you fuckin’ sheep!’
And they continued to ‘bah’ in mocking tones.
All the sheep in the herd that was mocking the other said the exact same things.
They sounded the same because they were the same.
They accused all the other sheep of fear-mongering about a virus all while spreading fear of the ‘commies’ and Bill Gates and the ‘new world order’
And the vaccine will be worse than the virus, don’t you know?
Unless of course, the whole thing is a hoax.
And masks can you make you ill, depleting your oxygen levels.
But they also don’t work to help contain the spread of a virus.
And the other herd said some of the same things as each other too but that was because facts don’t change no matter who bah’s them.
The herd that mocked don’t know they’re sheep. Which makes them the winners at being the biggest, bestest sheep!
We’re all sheep
Follow who you may
But don’t tell us you’re the ones wide awake
You’re still following what another shepherd says
Underneath we’re all the fucking same
Smiling under skin
That bears our shame
We’re all sheep
That the androids dream of
In their sleep
An accumulation of things
I‘m standing in the hallway
I forget why
Looking between the doors
At the walls that try to contain
This accumulation
Of thought
And all bought
A place that can’t contain me
Yet still stands.
Sadness enveloped in each room
Permeating an existence
Empty and cruel
With screens to look into
And forget this hell on earth
We all bought into
No room left for rebirth
Tattoos & Scars
We tattoo and mark or shame
Hoping symbols
Will communicate
The things we cannot say.
untitled.
The trees bared all and the woods collected the debris of life. Feet left their prints and the Robins remained the last birds singing. Clouds cast shadows so as to smother the light of day. A murder of Crows cawed their raucous cries and the world looked and felt like the end. But it was worse. Days and nights merged without an end in sight.
Another one on Absence
Your absence rings
In my ears
As if
Every voice
Not yours
Is a gunshot
Reverberating
In my skull
Your absence lingers
In every musical interval
As if
Every note
Sustains your existence
Behind my eyes
Yet my mind’s eye
Continues to blur you
As if you’re fading, still
Not quite a ghost, but not quite true
A shadow
I must hold onto.
Reflections
Photograph by Matt Johnson AKA Silverbackgorillapoetry
Freedom is an illusion
We’re all imprisoned
By something or other
Tethered by a thought or dream
Or perhaps a nightmare
Or something else somewhere
Maybe someone or nowhere
Imprisoned in our individual encounters
With ourselves in the mirror
Reminding us we’re not who we envisioned
Smiling underneath our emotional contortions
This rag of flesh
A world for life
Microscopic critters
Replicating themselves
As we duplicate ourselves
Simulating one another
Looking into mirrors, looking into reflections
Looking into ourselves
Studying the world
And in the world we are reflected back
And hoping no one noticed
We don our masks.
Clown
I etched onto my face
A fucking clowns grin
An inside out frown
So you wouldn’t know
I was down
But I’m down and out
I took my clothes off
I shaved my hair off
And I walked down the road
Police picked me up
And took me to the hell hole
And they wiped my grin off
They said I was crazy
Said this is who you are
The man with a perpetual frown
So they sewed up my mouth
And pulled the strings
Until my lips smiled
Like the skeleton beneath
They took me to a clown show
And they stood me on a table
Shifted the corners of my mouth
Looked at my teeth and then turned me around
Said I came third
Pinned a rosette to my collar and cheered
But I was the only clown
And then I pinched my nose
And the crowd laughed out loud.
The man I want to be vs the man I am
Wrestling with these thoughts
Pacing up and down these four walls
Trying to contort myself
Into feelings I don’t have
Hoping to Box myself into the calm
Contorting myself into someone
I could never be
Wishing I could just
Pull myself up by the bootstraps
Twiddle and twirl my moustache
And be the man I keep thinking I ought t be
An epitome of man and calm
But with assertiveness as my next charm
Perhaps if I part my receding hair to one side
And wear a pair of matching socks
Suit and maybe a tie
To strangle the feelings in a noose
I’ll become the man I envisioned
Instead of the patchwork of a man
Barley complete and far from calm.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 