August 17, 2017


I am one whole of a half

All but one

and then some

Between a cozy oblivion

and a searing chaos

I am what you call

A piecemeal person

This patchwork persona

is my design

A cannibal with a conscience

and an uncertain taste

I taste of contradictions

The twin flavours

of love and loss

A shifting gaze

that finds stories

yet unresolved

And voices that speak

more and less

than what you hear

I am, it seems

both the ruler and the ruled

I lead, by example

my rebellious tools

And hold my own

in this no-man’s land

As long as I can.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 7

August 15, 2017


Nine steps, each for a circle of hell

There he sits, desperate and awake on a chair

Consulting a raven that merely stares

Eight, and the infinite loop of time

That plays and replays the original crime

Singular thoughts of a paranoid mind

Seven for each of his many ghosts

The dark plays a bountiful host

A glimpse of one he loved the most

Six and six, the bell now tolls

Thunder claps and voices unfold

What could those deep shadows hold?

Five inches from his brooding face

A window and a storm in haste

A lone figure, lost in time and space

Four seconds till he hears the scream

Four quick steps away from the scene

From the horror, the dread of his darkest dreams

Three words cut through his silent terror

Drown the sounds of a complaining weather

Three words for his unforgiving errors

Two hands whose icy touch does burn

Close in on humanity’s wayward son

Closer still, till the deed is done

One figure sunken to the floor

One shadow by the broken door

A fading whisper, “I am Lenore.”

#101DaysofPoetry Day 6