Best Wound Poems

Friends?
Are we still friends?
Can we JUST be friends?!?
Oh such a horrid, charity-stained question!

What a keen and salient dagger it wields!
The pity that you wear like black lace finery,
Is as deadly and whetted a sword as any raised in battle ... 
The patronizing look in your...

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Sunny aspirations were not meant to be
As cloudy days appended the rainy nights
And mornings arose with darkened skies
Leaving her behind, in shattered dreams

Still she walked, in your abandoned path
Hoping one day you would turn around
But you kept advancing, defying her call
Searching for meaning you never...

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I stand here by the ocean, heart in hand
          A tender place that you and I made ours
                  ...

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No entry wound; I know inside
What should be whole is broken
Between the cracks my feelings slide
Where words cannot be spoken

Strange silence speaks within the gloom
Where memories keep taunting
A ghost sits in a lonely room
With no desire for haunting

Where once before I used to go
When I...

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"The Mortal Wound of the Civilized World"



Shift upwards
speed fast
the choice, Is

Gears chosen by the 
energetic heart 
fuel the freedom

The point of attention
the “I Am” 
an expression

of the same
consciousness 
that you are "Is"

we are living 
yet contained economies
numbed and played circadian 

pinned and 
framed 
to our...

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 It was past midnight
The moon, a sphere of luminosity! 
But she saw the frozen grimace of death
And the nocturnal bats in gyrating motion

Meteors of shame and repugnance
Flashed past her darkened sky, 
Cockroaches scurried in her brain, 
All the nerves taut and about to break
Her...

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A decade wearing you 
like a cast
And all I have to show
Is that no 
one ever taught me to 
be a friend...

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Woe am I to whom your words have torn bits
Out from my heart only to smooth, console	
Until I have again untangled wits.
Needful, I beg you patch this jagged hole
Drilled into my heart by your darkened soul....

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Science can’t save you, neither can religion,
at least Popper and Niebuhr, philosophers and poets,
are entertainers, which is why actors and athletes
are paid so much. Thanks for the summaries.
I was teaching Shakespeare’s 92nd ridiculous sonnet
to my student who lays blacktop in the off season
Shakespeare bellyaching about...

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GUNSHOT WOUND TO THE HEART 


From a two-room schoolhouse high on a hill over the Fundy Bay, I sat at an old wooden desk daydreaming. The ink stains and etchings which were dug deep into its surface had captured my imagination as they had so...

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When my mother died
My craving eyes rained
And tormented soul cried
Blood sucked and energy drained

The sky fell, the sun eclipsed
It was a horrifying dark day
The fragrant breeze turned into easterly wind
O God! Orphaned at the age of twelve, why say

The spear of loneliness pierced my heart
Causing...

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My heart was skinned when you left.

And the sutures were just removed.

I have been to the doctor and the healing.

The scar is a reminder of the thrust....

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It was a hot summer day.  Harry had stopped by Grandma's house and offered to take the two little girls down to the store and treat them to an ice-cream cone.  Grandma, thinking this was his way of making amends for the last...

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Today I met you for the first time,                                     ...

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please  my heart begs you stifle each false thought
          i see wounding words forming in your eyes

spoken false words will shape us more distraught
           than...

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