These whispers
Forget I’m dead
And they talk on as if
I dared to care
And my reflection
Says I’m still here
life
Cowboy time
The time is ten to ten
I want whisky on tap
It’s cowboy time
And then
We saddle up and ride
Don’t give me that side eye
I’m the man with the wit
And the battle stride
You may say I’m a misfit
But just like you, I was born to die
Stupid
There is something intelligent about an animal that only considers it’s next meal and contemplates when and where it might next sleep. The irony is that that intelligence wouldn’t be recognised as such if it wasn’t for a species such as us to be stupid enough to consider all of this in the first place.
Humour
I have possibly posted this before. I admit here openly this is not a poem written today, but was written last year. I’m struggling at the moment to write a poem every single day of April. I’ve tried prompt words, nothing is coming. I’m creatively constipated. So I figured I’d find an old one.
Hearts transparent in the crevices of our smiles
Those who know what to look for
Always find
The sorrow lurking behind
The laughter in their eyes
Humour is a bridge
Over sorrow
Transcending us through the waves
Frothing grievously at our feet
Trying to drown us whole
We laugh at the stench of our morality
Becoming clowns in our own rights
Casting illusions over doubt
Invisible man
I am the ghost in between these walls
I write and write
I writhe and writhe
I cry and cry
I scream, I scream
I shout, I shout
I have an entire ocean of
Doubt
I feel so much
The earth could crack under the weight of my feet
From the pendulum that is my heart
Swinging to defeat
I’m the invisible man
Everyone has another
Explanation for
Dead end
The lights keep me company
Reminding me of eternal darkness
Inside
Indicating to turn left
A dead end street
Those minor notes
Ring in harmony
With the static, on my mind
Doubt
Kissing smoke
With blue breath
As the moist air
Steals us from death
Mumbling with doubt
Replenished with that quivering lip
Biting back feverish wit
Lest we say the wrong thing
