When Day Becomes Night (a poem)

when day becomes night

people tuck into beds

drop their heads

on puffy pillows & blankets

back from coal mines & factories

of fear, soaked in mud

smeared with oil of

dire times –

they were once in their primes

these working men & women

but now bones hurt

spines shatter

blood splatters

when day becomes night

(Photo by Uvi D on Unsplash)

The Faceless Woman (a poem)

The faceless woman chases me through vacant city streets –

lights on in every home, but no one’s there,

just us, running in dreadful silence

my heart beats so fast it feels as if it’ll burst

from my sunken chest, plop on black concrete +

continue to beat to the rhythm of the pulsing ground,

as a brilliant moon looms above, hangs over us,

shines blinding light on my ghostly skin –

I’m living in sin + if the woman catches me,

I’ll surely suffocate + gurgle black blood

from a wicked mouth –

No! my mouth is gone, covered by slimy skin,

+ I’m gone, in her cold grasp at last,

the world collapses inside of me +

I wake as a newborn in some

distant jungle landscape.

(Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash)