Why the Riddle? (a poem)

Why the riddle?
When we get to the end,
Will the Divine face be revealed?

Or will there be another riddle
Inside of the inside joke
That’s life on this planet?

Let’s peer inside, let’s abide
To directives of love;
Maybe then, a light will shine
From above, and stop us
From digging the crater
That consumes great
Urban centers.

The Divine face is ugly,
We must admit,
To be free from illusion
When the only thing we
Hold onto is our delusions.

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Painstaking (a poem)

I’ve taken painstaking care

to avoid this moment

when the hot solar flares

take away my chance at atonement

for the crimes I’ve committed

& the lovers I’ve lost

for the criminals I’ve acquitted

& the innocent lives it cost

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Haunted House (a poem)

There’s been trauma in this house

we thought it’d be our forever home

instead, ghosts lurk here

ghosts of murders, suicides

they followed us long after we

left cob-webbed hallways –

the trauma here makes us see things

hallucinations, delusions of despair

we can’t escape it.

(Photo by Stefan Ringler on Unsplash)

Instability (a poem)

The end is closer than we think,

the wild-eyed prophet says.

He, who has spent time in psych wards,

sees visions of hellfire at corner stores.

What are these images of demons and flashes of inspiration?

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