Depression is a Liar (a poem)

Depression is a liar
It tells me nasty things
These negative thoughts I acquire
And the despair it brings

But my friends always say
This too shall pass
Though it’s wretched today
I faintly see a half-full glass

When I feel disconnected
Not much seems to help
I’m not sure what I expected
Or when it will stop

Music is my healing balm
And so is my writing
They help me stay calm
With the negativity I’m fighting

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Holy Endeavor (a poem)

There’s a battle going on
Inside the minds of men
Some of us are pawns
Some of us are kings

The battle is eternal
A duality of dark and light
On earth it’s a rehearsal
For the glory of the afterlife

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Shadow Footsteps (a poem)

Underneath the cold, hard ground
I found the key to my soul
And I praised the gods of winter
Who enjoy the dead trees
And fallen leaves that rustle
Like shadow footsteps

In dark nights of lore
The high priests were astounded
By the teenage Jesus
No one believed us
When we saw him heal the blind men
In the sticky subway station

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Pictures in Storybooks (a poem)

The certainty of seeing your face
When I arrived in the hidden place
Was gone forever in a split-second
Head down on the table like
You were sleeping, an eternal rest
Great sadness in the center of my chest

Those days are gone now
Pictures in storybooks
Cemented in my mind’s eye
No need to cry any longer
Your spirit is forever with me

(Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels)

The Devil Hiding in Plain Sight (a poem)

The searchlight found the devil
Hiding in plain sight
He has always been a vessel
For the children of the night

He sees me in my dreams
I can never quite escape him
Whenever I go to scream
He peels off my skin

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Keep My Secret (a poem)

Outside the cold dream-realm
There’s a town on the outskirts
Where we have all felt
Compelled to take a stand
Against the demons within ourselves

We banged the gates down
We made impossible demands
And we were left stranded
In the cold dream-realm lands

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Garden of Night (a prose poem)

I. A Dark Field

There is a field shrouded in darkness. You’ve been there before, though you only vaguely remember it. Maybe you saw it in a dream, but maybe, you were there in waking hours, but it’s buried deep inside your mind.

The field is like this: Cold, completely dark; the only sound is a groaning wind. There’s no moon in the sky, nor can you see where the sky and horizon meet because it’s as if you were blind. Yet, a fire burns far off in the distance, and you smell sulfur. The wind kicks ashes in your frost-bitten face.

You’ve been here before, you know it.

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Vibrant-Colored Ashes (a poem)

Watch time move in a circle
Our concept is broken
Caught in linear perceptions
We believe death is deception

But when the lightning flashes
Our mere mortality crashes
Into storm clouds and burns
Into vibrant-colored ashes

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Unknown Gods (a poem)

Pitter-patter, rain soaks the earth
And I pray to the unknown gods
Asking for mercy, but they force me
To give up on idealized visions
Of future civilizations of peace

We all want a piece of harmony
But are we willing to pay the cost?
In the terrible frost of endless winter
We’ve become jaded and bitter

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Shadows, Light, and Myth (a poem)

There is no light without the shadow
There is no dawn without the darkness

In the primordial awakening, the Sun God
Was bathed in intense light and the blinding
Rays of gold accompanied his coronation

He met Mother Moon in the field, in the cover
Of the darkness, their naked, lithe bodies
Faintly shining by the light given off
From each of them, as they consummated
The love of the world

The shadows danced in the tall grass
And The Shadow Man peered from behind
The shadow-side of each of the Gods
Their murderous and lecherous sides

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