Torn from Self

To be pried away
From this rotting matter
These ailing contours
I am cursed to inhabit

And to peer outward
Stripped of all dismay
Shall surely salvage
My havoc laden conscience

Into the greater opus
The bustling span of wilderness
I shall be replenished
Reaping, the earth’s timeless fables


A Farewell to Panorama

The scenic view
Has diminished once again
Undone by a passing flicker
And the final gusts
In close pursuit

Cradled in desolation
I am doomed to conspire
To conceive tomorrow’s plains
Of vibrant green
And meandering veins of blue

Shall it come to pass
In these infertile moments
Shall its roots sprawl in defiance
And triumph over the dust

The mind strains
But the cause is all for naught
And the moments defer
Like herds at a drover’s call

Days Spent Floundering

Beneath snow-capped ranges
Upturned and forgotten
By daybreak we meet
With the same desolate glare

I stir unfulfilled
As a waning sliver of youth
A disheveled wanderer
Marooned, to the contours of home

Where voices rage
Like iron-clad beasts
Trading the horrors
That fester violently within

Words arch hatefully
As I wade for hopeful shores
From the river’s eternal chorus
Where I flounder
Time after time


Torrential havoc
Gushes violently
From every sweltering pore

Dry words escape
Fleeing the loom of inferno
As the perils of the mind
Stampede beneath my flesh

Like frantic refugees
Streaming fearfully
From the fervid pulse of war

With eyes fixed forward
I let them take flight
As the towering flames
And rage among the ashes

An Inconstant Horizon

I am the wooden vessel
Cleaving the icy current
Caught in perpetual veering
Of reason or focus

By the inconstant horizon
My purpose arisen
From each mist-shroud daybreak

I diverge
In the ocean’s treacherous pull
Propelled by wind
And the surf’s iron whim

Before the immortal rage
The merciless span of havoc
I’ll relish in my imploring reach
For the shoreline’s
I’ll never attain

For Scavengers

Savagely carved
And minced to uselessness
I remain, a souring heap
With vitals lumbering
Toward the arms of sure decay

Beneath the infernal rage
Of the high cart wheeling sun
My flesh singes away
Blistering in the scourge
Of my foolish stagnation

My existence boils
Sprawled hopelessly
To endure
Submissively and frail

No complaints
Can escape me
In this rightfully earned
Mire of strife

Agony Thrives

A steep fall
And lightening flares
In bolts of agony
Spiraling up my legs

I endure the scream
Which never departs
In moments of staggering
By the fumes of spite

Pain flourishes
Through the sprawl of darkness
This harrowing strand of night

Up ivory roads
Reduced to shambles
Torment climbs
To claim
My fragmented thoughts

Paper Walls

Thin walls
Lend me the world
The ills of kinship
All trials endured

I brace in the swell
Of transient memories
First world gossip
The flare of household names

Through frailest ivory
Coarse words intrude
Coiling the solitude
That ensnares my peace of mind

Racing thoughts
With a flurry of everyday musings

My name
Casually spent
To garnish every memory spun

I cannot reply
With a mind paralyzed
By the inner thrash of panic


I’ve seen them before
Those scarred sandy roads
The endless trails
Of discarded youth

Safety, dwells within

Familiar words
Singe heartlessly
As burrowing vermin
I’ll harbor day to day

Safety, rings true within

Home falls desolate
A spanning desert of peril
Where slews scour hopeful
To reap the scraps not wanted

True bliss remains within

Yet it all grows so immense
And to withdraw
Means certain death

The Sins of Forefathers

Is it true
Stouthearted men
Stagger drunkenly
From a hard day’s labor?

Is it true they arise
Unscathed from it all
And yearn to overflow
With a pub’s fleeting thrills?

Perhaps they swear?
Unashamed and brazen
Letting foul words stream
Behind each cigarette’s
Cavalier plume

Or true valor lies
In the spun deeds of battle
The unending trash
Of primal man

Or does falsehood plague
What many
Foolishly hold dear?