Skip to main content

Countertop


Haunting this countertop/

Wondering how could all/

This go bad and walk/

Away from us, the patterns caught/

On repetition in my life, absent thought/

A coward's plot/

To brandish false/

Hope and manage slots/

Left over from the branch that rots/

Away, the old adage copped/

As an excuse, wrath of God/

Plant your balk-/

-ing seeds and stand and walk/

Because you are my spectre/

And I'm stressing/

Out over the time left in/

Our dying ending/

The price mentioned/

Was too much, so I write, wept in/

Quiet, bet this/

Life's questions/

Won't answer why settling/

Down defied convention/

My best friend/

You'll soon fly, stretching/

Our hearts like vested/

Lives destined/

To find remnants/

Of each other in every girl or guy messed with/

And getting over you/

Is akin to choking booze/

Down and moping through/

My days, hopeless, nude/

Vulnerable, emotions bruised/

Soaked in blue/

Feelings, morose and gloom/

My heart poured into/

Every poem proof-/

  -read at a bar, alone, enthused/

For nothing but foreboding moves/

Prose is glued/

To my eyelids, the chosen few/

That make the road we rue-/

 -fully walk down not a total slu-/

 -icing off of our former hues/

See me in every errant pen/

That stares and grins/

At you and cherishes/

Your caring lens/

That sees the world and cares and lends/

A cherry red/

Kiss and buries them/

In kindness, I sweared it then/

And now, but marriage went/

The way of our weariness/

Let the ocean's ensnaring winds/

Carry this/

All bleary fits/

Of weeping until my larynx rips/

Itself from my throat, I'm daring it/

Love is a scary den/

To leave, but it's our merriment/



Popular posts from this blog

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature. I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life. Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters. I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically min

A Drunkard's Lament

              Alcohol/ Is a battle fought/ With madness wrought/ From the sadness caught/ Between a man that calms/ His hands and thoughts/ With poison that wraps its claws/ Around his watch/ Makes time pass and stop/ Whenever he slams a shot/ I have forgot-/ -ten the chasms walked/ Barefoot and half distraught/ When I've drowned in bot-/ -tles of the brownest rot-/ -gut liquor, that the damned can flaunt/ Prancing, dropped/ By the rancid vom-/ -it that crams and falls/ From the mouth of all/ The manic lost/ Ones that choose to pad their traum-/ -as with Jack and vod-/ -ka, Schnapps and all-/ -the traps of karma/ Let's get plastered, crawl the/ Line, disasters wobbling/ Pants are starting/ To tear, we're panting, heart is/ Racing, death a tragic pardon/ From the crimes of a master wrong one/ The fortune amassed is startling/ Fan your pockets/ For the change that's always last for varmints/ Alas, unvarnished/ Regrets are magic, popping/ Up wherever you're lashed and