Is there such a thing as righteous anger?
Feelings. I hate these pesky things. Honestly, I really fucking do. What use are they?
Ash
Your spirits splash
As ash
Washed away by the rain
After rings of smoke
From your lips
Forget their origins
And the stories
that once radiated
Through your limbs
Have snapped
Broken into orchards of bones
It’s me!
I’ve changed the name I appear as from M.J to Matt Johnson. I know it may seem an obvious change and, “I could have worked that out for myself,” but I just wanted to let you all know. Since I know the slightest change in a name puts me back on the list of ‘commentors that need to be moderated’ on sites i’ve commented on frequently. (frequently for me anyway….) So just letting you all know, it’s me.
Matt Johnson.
Sunday Wordle: Dave
He’s drunk on the sly
He snatches another bite
Too many fermented apples
Don’t tell his wife, she thinks she’s the only apple of his eyes
She don’t know he’s not fit to fly
She’ll have a fit when she finds out
He’ll have spun ‘er a yarn or two
But that’s just like our Dave
The sheer cheek of ‘im
I love ‘im all the same.
Flies
The flies buzz
In this oppressive heat
Not a care for your defeat
Flying above your head
Caring none for the bleak of your heart
They’re flying in the face of dark
Their buzz as if a laugh
Upon you, lying on your back
Trying to be dead
The flies were a glimmer of hope
It was true, you had begun the end
But even death disappoints
At this hour, my friend
Can a man dare to dream
Sit and listen to
The sound of the pitter patter
That abounds
Like constant white noise
Asserting no significant attention
Just the buzz of human relations
Like the wings of a bee
Humming the language of nations
Industrious working of this socialisation
Working its way through the psyche
Of many generations
While clowns look to the clouds
With wisdom in their jest
And hearts of lions pounding in their chest
Perhaps detained
But noticing every freedom
Has it’s own cage
And seeing that maybe
As caged birds flaps their wings
Can a man surely dare to dream?
Sunday wordle: Tethered
The wind whistles through the broken fence
As the day gnaws at the final thread
Where hours echo and fall apart
Leaving imprints on stricken hearts
Where no word can touch upon
As the wheels than turn
Lead us to tethered ends.
Wits end
I found my wits end
Like a wick at the end of a candle
Dying embers
Refining my latest scandal
To be remembered
As I become dismantled
Enough
You took up so much volume in my head
Your every word, your every way
The way your nostrils flare
At everyday happenings
As if they’re the most disgusting
Offensive things
People just simply existing
In the same time frame as you
Have you reeling
I know your laugh is that of smugness
Believing you’re more intelligent than the rest of us
that you’re in the know
And we’re just clueless
And I gave you way too much time
Though you wouldn’t know
Because you never cared to notice
The story behind anyone else’s eyes
Back and forth between anger and sympathy
Driving myself insane
At the thought that maybe
You just needed someone to comfort you
But alas I sit here today
Coming to the conclusion
You enjoy the drama you create
And though I don’t wish anything bad
To be your fate
I’m letting you go
I’m saying any apology will be too late
I’m saying I no longer care enough
To drive myself insane.
I’m saying that it’s enough
For you, I have no more space inside my head.
Sunday wordle attempt: Shadowing dreams
Ignite your shadow in whispers
Let the tongues utter their rumours
Walking the line you walk
Sending ripples through dreams
Like water
Letting others know
The miracle you have within
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 