These poisoned gifts

Not sure what I was going for here. I started something, inspired by a song, then painted the bathroom so lost my train of thought…

In the dark stripped bare and cold

Drowning in things handed down

These rags, the curses, bloodied lips

Sins of the father, chains that bind

And shadows in the doorway watch.

Each blow, each bruise and words that cut

far deeper into sun bleached bone

than sharpened blade could ever do.

Dark lullaby and icy kiss goodnight

The hooded shame chokes, burns and blinds

But from outside wide smiles deceive

And shackled, shuffle silent by


Blah blah blah…Limerick tomorrow I promise…

Your name is always on my lips, the fairest treat

The furnace heat, life’s love, stars intersection

We walk the chapel built of breathless whispers

Spend summer days in golden fields, love’s raw reflection, soft flesh yields

Rush headlong to oblivion, with not a care and no retreat.

And orchards ripe and bursting full, we lay beneath their shade

This promise made, devoured like sweetest fruits, head on my chest

Full moon nights, desires willed, of yearning filled

Are all I need, surrendering to secrets spilled

And winter’s icy fingers wrapped tight around my heart do fade

And now amongst the living do I find a way each day

The path to stay and memories once so lost I cling to dearly

Love’s winding path home leads so very clearly

To the door, and like before, you wait

I close the gate and know that I am home at last,

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Saturday.

Now I’m just making stuff up for sh1ts and giggles…

I drank your lies,

Tepid they filled my mouth, trickling down my eager throat.

Such sweet promises and sublime simple surrender.

Idle and bloated I lay like a roadside carcass

swollen by the seering sun, and watched your soft cherry lips.

Eagerly, foolishly, I clung to every word,

each sickly syllable a noose tight around my throat

and sleepwalking I follow, my hand in yours

over coals lit red with flames of broken promises

eyes streaming as acrid tomorrows drift ever skywards

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Friday.

Happy friday people. A day late.

Oh I’d smile and watch you weep

Tears as cold as your heart

Beautiful promise you couldn’t keep

Sickly sweet they dripped from your tongue

How I’d laugh as you tell me why

Acrid lies spilling over your lips

Pooling stagnant at your feet

As I remember his hands, gentle on your hips

Sweet moments soured and stained

And fists clenched, confined to experience

A heart now free once chained

No regrets, no forgiveness. Just nothing.

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Thursday.

A little late….

Alone she stands and silent mourns

Snow whipped about her feet

Dreams buried in a grave of lies

Air foul where once was sweet

And tears streaming down her cheeks

Fists clenched, jaw resolute

A rage inside pushed deep down low

Her screams once wild now mute

The trust now lost the joy departed

Cold earth on loves corpse piled

No rose she lays no prayers she speaks

Wipes her face, then turns, and smiles

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Tuesday.

Tuesday and still going strong…Bit dark though I will be honet. Perhaps tomorrow I will be serious about someone riding a bike. How dark can that get?

On the shore he stands, tempest raging, sky turned black

and defiant screams into the wind

Demands the ocean calm and give her back

and tears demand forgiveness for his sins


Atop the waves white horses rear and furious race

headlong, stamped and crash about his feet

and tousled hair is whipped about his sallow face

no surrender, no forgiveness no retreat


Nature’s fury taunts and mocks, he hears her calls.

The sun obscured, dark finger pointed, accusations fly

and though he begs she stays within deep prison walls

doomed to repeat and every night to die





Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Monday.

More serious poems becauise I’m just that kinda guy. No I am really. Honest. Look at my rhyming n stuff.

Mouth full of lies and the soft sigh of thighs,

oblivious he swims in waters deep.

And entangled dragged low by her strong undertow

full red lips, creamy skin, whispered promises keep.

And so blinded, and chided and ever reminded

how she bends to her will and devours

very easy succumbs to the beat of her drums

and he withers with autumnal flowers

and so belly fat, filled, he’s a slave to her will

appetite, ravenous, quenched

too late rails, cold and frail, and her darkness prevails

on the shoreline cold lifeless and drenched




Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Sunday

How about a poem to start. A poem can be a frightfully serious thing.

Through golden shards I see her one last time

Summer’s fading light reflected

and slow she turns away.

And ever since each moment tight in chains I’m bound.

Such cruel memories remind me often,

of things that I gladly a king’s ransom would pay,

and to forget.

And then, with sun on my face I look to her and at last,

as love lost fades into bliss I rest.