In midnight waking hour
Tag Archives: poetry
Midair
Clinging to a ladder
hung from a copter,
trying to tie my shoe
Cloth for a blood-soaked world
Where do you
wring it out?
A Curious Turn of Events
When that man called what he’s called did what he did
millions begged to be minions and wilt
You can only be good by being good
You can’t be good by looking good.
You can’t be good by tricking someone
into thinking you are good,
or by having someone rewrite history
to say you are good.
You can only be good by being good.
An end to lucky charms
I rose to cherish beauty
But darkness blocked my door
I thought you’d never find me
Now lie my love once more
Ideally, I’d
Flip the angle wide.
I’d become
obtuse in my love
and
fully full of you
How God got it wrong
He thought he’d throw a
speck of evil in,
to mix things up,
and that it would turn into
this beautiful pearl,
and that we’d love it
Outside the circuit of self-deceit
The sun is shining
and I do something
for someone else
Mystery Mansion
Every year I’d forget. We’d ride
through the mist and
past the ghouls, the car would
dip and rise, lights
would rotate and you’d
feel you were going to tip
but wouldn’t.
Bones would rattle,
snakes would dance,
crows and an owl would stare.
It was over surely and
not so bad really
when BLAAAAAAAA!! the bus
slammed to a stop.
Blinded, you were
jerked from its path,
left then right and out
the door, returned to the
more civilly blinding
light of day.
Utrecht Journal 