Thunderous Rasp of Breath (a poem)

Dark Night, cold Breeze
From the circling fan above.
There is no sound,
Yet that of thunderstorms.
Pressure on my feet
And slight movement all around.
However life seems still,
When the thunderous rasp of breath
Is not to my right.
Sheep and stars do not help,
The darkness only reminds me I am alone.

(Photo by Ryan Phillips on Unsplash)

The Light that Always Shines (a poem)

For Mick Dolan

Just when you think you’re going to collapse,

and get swallowed into the abyss:

You fall into God’s arms.

When you think life is too much,

and you’re surrounded by darkness,

and the world becomes small,

God enlarges it.

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Chess (a poem)

You asked me what I wanted
I said friendship and honesty
I still love you and will always love you
Our connection was deep and passionate
It was full of love and spiritual discussions
You made me feel stronger
Stronger than I’ve been in a long time

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Carnival Games (a poem)

It’s 6:48 am and I am walking onto a bus
We are no longer able to be alone
The government has deemed we must stay together

This is my first day on the bus – I thought I would be on it longer
My start time is at 11:42 am

As I am ushered off the bus after twenty-five minutes
I am given directions on my phone and told to stay with the group
I must plan my escape, I must be alone

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Swing Bench (a poem)

Sometimes I think of my soul as though it were a tree
Standing tall, reaching for the sun
The sun rises, the sun sets
Each day is the same
But then you came along, my gardener
You trimmed the parts that were too heavy to hold
You made adjustments to make me grow stronger
You set a foundation around my trunk
To keep me upright and strong
You made it beautiful with flowers and a pond full of koi
You placed a swing bench near by
Where you could sit and admire your work
When you are gone, I still grow strong toward the sun
But I miss giving you shade while you read under me
The days pass and it feels like a never ending winter
You will come back, as sure as the sun, with its warmth
You’ll once again shape me to grow better and stronger

The Poet’s Curse (a poem)

You humiliated the Netherworld Poet, and now you

must pay – the only way to avoid his curse is to

sacrifice the first-born son in your wife’s womb.

The Netherworld Poet cackles like a hyena on these

arid plains of this sun-soaked frontier – you dared

to question his knowledge of the tribe and kingdom

that is your birthright to one day lead.

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The Pale Woman (a poem)

Down the winding path, you go deep into the forest –

the dense birch trees make it so dark that only

a faint light breaks through and illuminates

the leave-strewn path.

You were told to avoid this place – a place

where corpses dangle from branches and

lay twisted on the forest floor, their faces

stuck in a final moment of eagerness to

kill a lifetime of sorrow.

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Another Channel (a poem)

I want to feel connected to the planet –

wet, black soil after a hard rain or swaying

tree boughs that reach out, wish to embrace me.

I want it so much, and yet, I feel nothing –

only a dullness where the planet is another channel

on so many screens, divorced from the living ground

of my ancestors.

(Photo by Jisun Han on Unsplash)