i was rotting from the inside
felt it younger
this sentiment of not fitting in
hidden it
putting on a mask
covering it
a spoiled apple in the basket
imitating it's pears
i can no longer blend in
now
i'm rotten from the core and beyond
all see it
the rotten apple
will not last long
A waste paper basket, a trash can, a bin
Whatever you call it, some things won’t stay in
The things that you write
Long into the night
May make, when discarded… one hell of a din
*
Don’t write by moonlight at midnight
Do not trash your tale late at night
For powers unseen
And terribly mean
May use it to give you a fright
I know, for it happened to me
I tell for I need you to see
I binned every word
And later I heard
A screech of malevolent glee
*
I lie wide awake in my bed
My discarded verse in my head
I tiptoe downstairs
With prickling neck hairs
For something smells like it’s long dead
A full moon sheds just enough light
In the room where I sit down to write
But somehow I know
It won’t let me go
This thing I created tonight
It lives for it never can die
I think I now understand why
I wrote about strife
My words gave it life
And you can’t kill words, though you try
The waste paper basket taunts me
It’s dark in the room but I see
A claw on its rim
My thoughts turn to Grimm
It mutters my name… and I flee
Basket case
There is a smudge on my computer screen trying to clean it with spit,
but no, perhaps it is finger marks left behind by the strange people
Who sits in the back of the computer shop?
Their diet is cola and chocolate; they are thin, bald and weedy looking
I must whisper to them, or they shrink away.
They sulk if I disagree with their diagnosis, it will take time to get
my computer back.
When the owner closes the shop, they climb into toolboxes, the ones with
the helpful drawing of a screwdriver, maybe the smudge is a camera
watching me
when I have a drink tonight, I’ll pour it in the bedroom then go into
the bathroom and smoke a cigarette
buy a can of coke a bar of chocolate, eat and drink in front of the screen
and they will say, look, he is a basket-case like us.
what’s in the basket case, let’s see
a jumble of clay, i can’t pass
embittered pretense of forgive
a vomitus litter of crass
why does this gift keep on giving
over and over it tumbles
with no argument i let go
but dredged up in talks i fumble
this basket case with a heavy lift
it’s mind control unforgiving
my one hundred pound head of lead
the relentless tales reliving
SINK the wicker into the sea
TEAR apart its strands of pale reeds
POUND it with a tenderizer
until its remains are sound seeds
5/22/2019
Basket Case?
Is your home spiral basket, not fond of the light?
If you could might you favor perpetual night?
Is it pain that you fear, or God's heart-piercing sight?
Or does life seem a puzzle you never get right?
The good news is it's silly to feel that alone,
For one's view is constricted when fear's overblown,
To say options exist, would I throw you a bone,
When there's steak you can chew on, why pay to feed clone?
I'd guess fear's a big issue. It rocks happiness!
Is there sin, maybe guilt that you need to confess?
The most probable culprit perhaps is duress,
Could it be that you're only a victim of stress?
I would beg you consider that other folk too
Do not have all the answers, feel trapped in a zoo,
Where though eyes may be curious, no love shines through!
Though your parents are fair, your soul fakes black tattoo!
Such a wonderful chrysalis, sure you don't care?
Though some troubadours won't have a clue you are there!
All it takes is one peek! There is none to compare!
Trip your own light fantastic, with new Fred Astaire.
Long Tooth
August 18, 2018
Oh battered skull,
with what power
do you withstand explosion
from the pain
I feel within?
Like the grinding
of one's bones
as your chest
is so slowly crushed.
Blackness overcomes
as eyes burn with liquid
close to the nightmarish reality.
Leaving the brain to convulse
in its own hellish scenes.
Icy, clawed fingers
dig into the brain
and it heaves within it's fluid.
This organ.
entombed in it's crypt since birth
now wishes freedom
and screams a silent scream
as darkened bile scolds my innards.
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