West Of The Deuce
The town was Show Low
named for a poker hand
way up in the White Mountains
of wild western Arizona
how very ironic
we met in a poker room
at the Dancing Eagle
Tag: poetry
Still Waters
there is so much beauty and so little time
which makes me tearfully treasure the breath of life
and your sun kissed shoulders and smile
Shelter
This is my muted voice. This is a language of my own choosing. The kind that pulls me away from people and erects walls in the vacuum of the Jungian deep.
Apathy
Turning in on itself,
turning out reflecting images of men,
transforming into disgust.
The Burdens Of Childhood You Can’t Outgrow
As a small child, I tentatively
reached my feet toward the floor
apprehensive of the crevice,
the mere inches
where darkness bleeds until
my monster emerged
Sanity
When the silence starts to scream,
when the pain starts to demand,
I search for a crowd,
one that can distract the deafening silence.
The Perils of the Business World
I touched upon my entire anatomy of silver ribbons and glittering intentions and deep black tar of unidentifiable insecurity without first learning how each part of me functioned.
Never Heard From You Again
Once he was gone…
once my world came to a screeching HALT…
you were gone with everyone else –
and it was silent.