Best Blades Poems

I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death, 
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if...

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safe haven for poets once existed
till destructive forces came on board
those who seek just to hurt others
end up harming themselves

several such people have inflicted pain here
though no one would call them “writers”
juvenile antics and hateful comments
are their only legacies

through profanity and threats
digging holes to poetry’s...

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Blades of grass quiver
Pearl dewdrops drip like tears
A snake in the grass...

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the blades of the third eye open electric
sleep sits and runs for death
a coffin writes a promise with rich, ruddy dirt
a poet sinks in his eyes and coughs
winds ride the cold shout of crippled prayers
a wolf flows in distant sands
howling white moon...

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blades of grass rip
passed the hunters gun they slip….
fifteen in the clip...

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the flowers droop
but refuse to die 
from the heat
like tanned fields
subsumed in the struggle
to survive to keep 
the flow of transpiration
like the trodden 
blades of grass
pushing upward
through the hole of sidewalks
to capture 
the cosmic energy source
that fuels them onward
towards the victory
they seek
to be free
like we...

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Vexatious destroyer of my soul behold what has been done
Timeless and eternal I cycle through endless days of woe
Into the shadows of chaos I go - seeking, searching and lost
Swiftly your knife slices cleanly in, into my flesh so weak
 
That blade of kindness cuts...

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Crying because I have to let go of you
Trying to conceal these tears, but they spill out
It’s complicated how I feel, you know?
Encountering situations that bewilder me and fill my mind with doubt

Making my brain go insane…
Oceans separate us now…
We went our separate ways
My train...

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Memories scarcely recollected
as if the frail pictures hold traces of
shame—no, not shame—
a contemptuous emotion strung
upon such intruding truths,
basking and waiting
for words to record its frumpy 
existence—gone . . .

There is a fear lurking where
honesty resides, as blades
of apathy slash away at the edges
of time—making way...

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Gliding like an eagle,
the rush of clean air,
wonder of wonders
on two knife blades,
cheeks frosted with glee,
breath iced and cold,
hands loosening but not
letting go,
around the oval like a race car
just practicing laps,
getting the feel,
gaining confidence,
bright smile showing grace and skill,
faster and out of breath,
gulping frozen air,
slowing...

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Just one more I say
No one will notice
No one will care
Then I see my life start to fade

A cut to my wrist
A cut to my thigh 
Making a fist
While I start to cry

No one cares
Nobody's here
It's just not fair
Why do I have to live in...

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He always loved knives. 
Blades flicking sharp like a snake's tongue.  
"Knives never lie," he said. 

The moment depends on honing. 
A ritual all its own.  

       Scrip.
         ...

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We shelled out
the pieces of our hearts;
scattered on the floor,
sharp bits of doubt
and war-
Slice your wrists with them all,
the fragments of my love and tears..
the sorrows you couldn't persevere
sprung red leaves from the wrists,
the bloodiest autumn-
Night brings polar pains
that run down my spine 
and through...

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A blade of grass
produces health
in annual balancing equivalence
to consuming soil and sun's wealth.

A human child
given Earth's sufficiencies,
produces robust health
by consuming soil and sun's captures
and re-investing wealth
out into this child's multiculturing exterior.

A wise humane Elder
given Earth's sufficiencies
and given trust of responsible authority
by a democratically cooperative polity,
Also...

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His mind lay prey to mumbled threats within,
drawn to perch upon a twig-thin edge 
slung between a gauze of blatant dreams.
Like some homeless bird come to make a nest,
it yanked discarded bits of skin and hair,
from bins of vain memory's hoard, 
then joined to form...

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