Point of No Return

Time will set us ablaze
Once the trees grow frail and waver
Into oceans of thistle and sand

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Just another friendly reminder, my latest collection of poems “The Slums of Nightfall” has been published and it is available for purchase on Amazon. It’s a book that covers a wide range of topics. Most of the poems revolve around the subject of mental health, specifically  my ongoing struggle with anxiety and depression. The book is not about a literal slum. It is about a state of mind a person can reach, when they lie awake at night, contemplating the world around them. It is about the wee hours of the morning, when your home has fallen silent and you are left to be wide awake with your memories. Each poem is a part of larger story; a story about wrestling with your fears and insecurities, and the slow and gradually journey toward loving and accepting yourself. Amazon  Author Page

My latest collection of poetry has been published! I never thought I would get to type those words. But today is that day. My dream has become a reality and I could not have achieved this without all of your help. The constant feedback and words of encouragement are apart of what motivates me to write these poems. This is the beginning of a truly exciting chapter. Let’s just see what happens next..

The Slums of Nightfall is a collection of poetry that covers a wide range of topics. Most of the poems revolve around the subject of mental health, specifically the author’s ongoing struggle with anxiety and depression. The book is not about a literal slum. It is about a state of mind a person can reach, when they lie awake at night, contemplating the world around them. It is about the wee hours of the morning, when your home has fallen silent and you are left to be wide awake with your memories. Each poem is a part of larger story; a story about wrestling with your fears and insecurities, and the slow and gradually journey toward loving and accepting yourself. The book is available for purchase on  Amazon and the Creative Talents Unleashed website.

Whitewashed

Beneath steep Victorian walls
I am jailed by favor
Yet quietly despised

For I’ll do them no harm
From these sun-kissed snares
With crazed locks shaven
Gelled and kempt

For I’m far better off
Than the devious lot
Devoid of their rage
So pleasantly shackled

As the daily chorus
Ascends from the fields
Steadily, driven
To an armed and bloodied revolt

Where I’ll meet
The coils of kin
And their sorrowful task
So merciful, so swift

Not Quite

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At another time
He’ll stir with angst
Steam with contempt
And curse the sovereign lot

For now
Comfort seeps into his bones
Graciously codling
Such frantic and brash dissent

A warm hearth
Burns within his mind
Pacifying his roving anguish
Chattering misfortunes
Frigid and displaced

A cause for stirring
Shall bloom another time
With hollow aspirations
And pitiful resolve

Sloth reigns
Above his quiet limbs
Driven mad with pleasure
And timid disdain

Arise another time
When fire leads on
When droves disperse
And serenity streams away

Catching Our Breath

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When shall we claim our breath?
Plagued with savagery
From the hopeless creed
Of valor and gore
The timeless vice
Within us all

Ages pass
Trends pale and wither
As mayhem turns
With flaming vigor

Quiet yearning
Sprawls far and wide
Yet none object
Few care to decide

Fire bred skies
Bleed their dismay
As the wisps defer
In our reckless suffocation

When shall we reclaim
The calm winds of old?
Founded on intrigue
By the clever and bold

We’ll breathe once more
To resettle in composure
Diligently faltering
Into soothing compassion

Living Memoirs

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Never let them slip away
Memories retold
Preserved from long ago

Of roving ships
From shore to shore
As droves disembark
And clamor for distant promise

Never forsake them
Or befoul their ghosts
Entombed in the hearts and minds of kin

Salvos and shackles
Hold true to this day
For shivering masses
Remain within us all

Never defer
From shrill lessons learned
The scorn forebears
Have braved and endured

Their time dwells
Within our very roots
Emerging here and there
To chide
And to lovingly jolt us forth

The past
Our loyal
Tried and true friend
A child of dismay
Reared trough triumph
Toil and tribulation

Ode to the Outlaw

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Honest heroes
Gladly defy the safety of sacred norms
They dare to yearn
For the contours of the universe
And all of its mighty, unseen splendor

Beneath the fiery gaze
Of gilded impassioned hope
Outlaws swiftly ascend
For the far-fetched troves
They were long ago, urged to defer from

The soft, yet pestering refrain of why
Garnishes every transient moment
The waning hours
Shroud in bottomless inquiry

Towering beings
Spearhead for the rich unknown
To flounder or flourish
For immense clarity
Or the grave scowl of unease

Never mind the complacent
The perfectly snug
And blissfully fulfilled
The bold still lurch for the hearth of glory
No matter how reckless, uncertain or obscure

Grief and turmoil
Can never dispel
The determined reveries
Of the hungry outlaw

Our Age of Paralysis

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Without regard
We sing a cautious refrain
Hobbling to and fro
Beneath the mighty beckon and call

The more disarray coddles homes
The further we drift away
Withdrawn into the colossal noise
That bellows from flickering plasma

As disarray coddles home
Chiefs conspire within gilded ivory
Our wealth fluctuates
And streams for quiet kings
The ever vigilant titans
With feigned anguish in their eyes

Still we sing unaffected
Beneath the cool swell
Drained of dissent
Complaint or empathy

Conspiring chiefs creep undeterred
Unscathed as a nation boils
With each blistering, murderous hour

Who will come for us?
When all worth is spent
When all dreams run dry
Effortlessly gambled

The fault shall lie
In our sunken careless eyes
Fixed upon nothingness
The grand and hollow cacophony
Our destitute offspring
Shall rest, pitiful and hungry

They’ll wander roads to desolation
Forgone and sickly
Withheld, by ceaseless nights of falling