Category: Uncategorized
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The Dead Return
In hell Not a prayer Nor a chant Will save you… Only the hand Of a nameless demon You call friend Will console… Only a love of one whose heart has hardened and melted under the flames will be your only home and with tears and few words spoken will everything undone, everything fucked thrice…
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Storm
At some point you learn That the only true freedom From pain Is a valiant effort At moving Towards it…
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Dark Light
I remember as a child before going to sleep, I’d turn the lights off and dash for the bed. I’d strain my eyes open, desperately seeking light- that minute of waiting felt like an eternity. I’d initially feel a sense of dread staring into the nothingness of the air, nothing could be seen beyond the…
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Laugh Out Loud
What makes anything beautiful, what gives it life, is the experience it has had. We stare at a certain painting and become mesmerized by something unexplainable-there is an emotion, a life, a story that it has lived. This is the essence of all things worthwhile. They are neither fabricated or desired. Instead, these are the…
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A Green Rose Named Frankie
It’s surreal to reflect on how a thing, a substance, sometimes so small, sometimes invisible to the human eye can, utterly destroy a life. Sometimes, these things appear to be beautiful in their rawest form. A swaying cocoa plant or a vibrant poppy add beauty to the fields they inhabit. It’s astonishing and at the…
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Calypso’s Giant
The final word in war is not the emanating chemical, not the silencing explosion, nor the settling of heavy cavalry… what subdues giants in battle is the coddling of their own deficiencies, the salient soothing of their secret terrors Calypso keeps men asleep with sweet scented lullabies affirming doubt, praising the stagnant soldier with a…
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Hands
a hero unearthed like a rose strangled out of the dirt by a corpse’s hands the path is paved by deadened grips and shackled lips while silent kings die nameless a twirling palm unknown to the ashes decides the way…
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Ambula
time and time and again… time and again i have lost the path and found it again in an inescapable breath a treadless path unyearnable and anticlimaxically predisposed to unloved silhouettes dancing in the crimson shine of the night we are here alone prolonged by unsung silence mischievously hummed by a lone choir of tears…
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Samba
the truth is a lone white beast gasping for air in a dense lair, a colorless place in which we stare into suffering echoes that riot within the startling marrow… the abysmal darkness says hold on and the pale beast screams “let go!” oh, who am I and what is my face in the world…
Healing Through Words 