Art Angst Poems

Where art thou unknown spellcaster?

If in fact such a female and/or male exists
an insufferable existence clamors for surcease
against riptide of ineradicable anguish.

Living hand to mouth
for...

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i was chosen for the next moon landing
and my co-passengers arrived at the meeting
in lightweight space suits
but i wore my black leather jacket
to show my...

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In the Land of the Lost, on my floor;folks crazed 
A wod jane does yell trash in flush room.; felt miffed
My nerves tense, on this...

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PrEdIcAtEd on PeRcOcEt

predicated on percocet, or jacked up.
that man that appears, familiar in
a painting, when i land chin up.
i see, clearly, a countenance of sin,
with...

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The world plunged into darkness, on the day you said goodbye.

You were my sun and you were my moon,
You was the light in every room.

Time...

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In shadows deep, where dreams retreat, Hope deferred, a heart's defeat.
A whispered promise, lost in mist,
In longing's grip, where souls persist.

Each fleeting glimpse, a flicker...

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Finding liberty in a blank white page
Requiring imagination like adding sage
Emptying my thoughts my heart’s desires
Embracing my challenges feeding the fire

Winged white words please take...

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The house used to be warm when they were all home 
Not the house is gone and I'm all alone 
A stray on the street...

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A lamb with eyes of trusting blue,
Approaches charm, a smile untrue.
The puppeteer, with practiced art,
Hides strings of deceit within his heart.

The web is spun, a...

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Home at the Ranch 


Once, I had a big ranch in, Oregon, technically it is still mine
but I have no way to prove it
one day...

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In blackness,
 I hear forked tongues 
whisper wicked witchery,
hope within arthritic 
  ink slowly f a d e s
as darkness descends  
upon snow-speckled...

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“Special are the ones that see beyond  veiled verses, 
   behind violet smiles, so much is spoken in silence, where cosmic chaos...

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Sometimes I wake up and wonder,
Who have I become,
I draw the curtains from my eyes,
And realise I am numb,
I recognise my heart and face,
I just...

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("Mrs. It Dances Through It", 2014, original pen and ink)

Turning Point - Coming of Age - Acceptance at Last

Finally at age 65 I reach a...

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A definite air permeates
When in the walls of my room
Projected productivity is it?
Or rather the reflection of what those expect of me

Identity found... lost, through...

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