Ill and Faded Refuge

Home hardly radiates the same
Once its doors shoot open
And the warmth of the past
Is lost

For I’ve chased away the sense of refuge
It now rings ill and faded
As I dream and drowse in its binds,
In motionless spite

The night cries out
With a furious wisp of welcome
Howling for an effort
For me, to simply, stumble away

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.

Recovery

The agony settles to a quiver
Softening its wrath
To a dull burn
As I scale down from havoc

The outrage
Calms to a nuisance
To be soon forgotten
In a haze
Of mundane trials

The sorrow
Grows pale and drowns
In a shameful embrace
In the vice I carry
And coddle each day

The panic subsides
To a cool traveling wisp
A maiden who soothes
With the utmost of skill

The mind relents
Left wavering in grey
Capsized in relief
And bound to forget

Indecision

I’m short on precious years
And kin rage without words
Expecting
So calloused by time

Waiting
With sullen
And guilt-ridden eyes
They are launched
From the loving arms of patience

How dare I change course
And leave them to ponder
To stray past the brink
Of their generous deeds

At the proudest peak
Of their honest affections
I weave, indecisive
So frightened
So turbulent and young

Every Foul Minute of It

It is far too grotesque
A festering pile
Of ego, irritation, and squalor

It is doomed
Set adrift from the others
Sent lumbering abroad
For all the shadows of the world

To carry on and cope
Means to part from the mind
To scream from the depths
Of a drunken demise

It is far gone in poison
Pompous
And drab

Forevermore lost
From the eyes
Of the heedful and kind

The Last Living Nightmare

 

It came snarling across the dark
Crimson eyed, barreling
At the height of its lust

Trembling without end in sight
I rose up in spite
Defiantly, driven to its maw

In the murdering trash
The skewering
The pull and the slash
I was loyal
To the tremors of rage

As my tattered frame weaved
And survival, tussled in mind
All panic was hastily lost

The agony fell away
As war clouds reveled
Thundering to our bloodied
Subhuman descent

Till the last fading groan
Had triumphed in red
My conquest in shackles
True, to its iron demise

Seethe with Dignified Silence

image

In quiet agony I rise
Among the unfazed
Who scale with ease

As the weight of envy
Sprawls, unchallenged
In each spite-wielding glance
Toward their passionate climb

I sail away
With loathsome hopes
Carted to rage
To quarrel within

To rave on end
Toward the efforts of kin
Ravaged by worry
By the endless evils of scorn

The Yearly Freefall

 

Through the motions of joy
I adhere
So secretly drawn
To my yearly dismay

Driven far off
To the morrow’s swarm
My dreams all bustle
And rage to despair

I am tarnished and stalled
In a freefall and frenzy
In the murderous haze
Beneath
My veil of feign strength

The Ruptured Hull

Every ounce of strength
Is dragged away
From the hull
Of this discarded vessel

In flight from the horror
The cyclone of dreams
Where hysteria raves
Into pools
Of lash-drawn sweat

With what I have
I take to the breeze
Atop truthful
And kind-hearted roads

To disembark
Far
From the symphonies of havoc

Spared over
And lulled
Into the frothing
Currents of sleep