Glass Half Shattered
I find my thoughts are often quite destructive or productive
I try to turn the former into something more constructive
My name will live in infamy forever and a day
The loss of independence is the price I have to pay
I dream that putting pen to paper, publishing my woes
Can deter some other creep from traveling down the path I chose
I see these kindred spirits making headlines all the time
Using words like "sick and twisted" may be fair but they malign
All us who decided to be cruel and turn to violence
Linger long in jail or death and do our suffering in silence
But isn't that the way we did our suffering before?
And that just led to bodies bled and senseless acts of gore
The voices of experience in these deeds so macabre
Must speak out against indifference (consider that our job)
We have a second chance to leave a legacy of good
Cause I know I'd take it back if only there's some way I could
Try to piece together and repair half shattered glass
So there won't be any need to fly our flags at demi-mast
I race into thick of woods
denying all noise
From a mind rushed by bruised thoughts
This life how shallow ,
And time becomes my ruler
Dragging me to pits
Of unrelenting wounded strifes
A world without calm.
Weighing up peace, love, and rage
wait a half-minute
you lose all the momentum
losing lines on stage
To you, I'm a fleeting breath
half a minute's worth
when you are my endless sky
casting a shadow
half light on the page
words spill yet swallow their truth
a moon veiled in clouds —
I read between the shadows
for the part you did not write
half a tear is mine
half I give to other hands
to carry its weight
shared grief breaks into pieces
small enough for hearts to hold
half my breath holds on
half my breath has wandered free
seeking other paths
in this hovering between
I glimpse the soul's bright outline
half cream, half bitter —
the coffee swirls like my grief
clouds folding through black
each sip both soothes unsettles
like truth disguised in sugar
glass shows half my face
the other drowns in shadow
back towards the past
what I see and what I am
trade places without warning
horizon's hard line
splits the blue from burning gold
dusk drinking the day
I stand between both the realms
unsure which beckons me home
the streets smell of coffee
and the burnt ends of last night’s cigarettes.
faces move past me like they’ve been sandpapered—
eyes dull, shoulders pulled up like bad weather.
the mailman walks slower,
the bartender pours heavier,
even the pigeons look nervous.
something’s in the air—
a weight you can’t see
but you feel it pressing your ribs.
I drink my beer,
pretend I’m above it,
but the truth is my chest is tight too.
whatever it is,
it’s leaking through the cracks.
and we’re all standing in it,
pretending it’s just another day.
Half Past Summer, Two Months To Fall
The sultry legs of summer dance under sunny skies
Each day, the steps are heated and embraced
She lies in summer's arms on a beach, tanning herself
As the sands of summer roll with the waltzing tides
When the song ends, she sighs, and a new stage begins
Slippers and sandals are replaced with shoes for the fall
A picnic of beachgoers wanes as a harvest moon peaks
Soon her yard fills with leaves as Fall looks to ask her out
connie pachecho
7/29/25
A truckful of drunks
half-skunked boozers
gun racks in the back
unlucky losers
pulled up to the pumps
for a gallon or two
only high octane
tanked would do
then one had a bad itch
he started to scratch
wanted a smoke
and when he lit a match
the explosion was heard
three miles away
to arrive alive
do what they say
'Don't drink and drive'
and yes it's true
it could ruin your day
smoking is bad for you
There is a hush
between the crash of sky and soul—
I almost forgot what silence stole
his name half-spoken
My own heart is unsure if it’s mine
Grief echoes softly through measured time
footsteps blur
on ground not wholly earth or dream—
I’m learning that not all ghosts are mean
For long who’d been my better half
Has now become my bitter half--
Bitter, my autumns sing
Of fantasies of spring…
To bull has blown a benign calf
Who feels (or feigns) she’s tired
Ever since I retired,
To smirk has turned a vibrant laugh.
_________________________
Happenings | 24.07.2025 | humour, life, wife
Note: She has, I would like to feel, nothing against my poetic journey as such, but that my poems fetch not a penny.
Twigs and dried leaves talk timeless tales cuddling together.
Parrot pandemonium camouflage under fading flowers
I've witnessed seasonal cycles. Is the deep calling me?
Summer is a time of wanderlust and fun with long days and warm nights
A season to enjoy the outdoors as we cultivate our many gardens of life
The days are now getting shorter as nature slowly starts to rest into slumber
Hummingbirds take their last sip of nectar before their fall departure
Leaves start to transform from green into bright crimson, orange and gold
Gardens deliver their last bounty then rest as they become brown and drab
It will soon be fall, a season of anticipation of the upcoming holiday season
Homes decorated in harvest décor in gold and rust and with orange pumpkins
less sun, more moon as night time grows
seasons change as all things must
where did time go? Heaven knows
the stars give signs, much to tell us
be still, as nature all around us flows
Warm summer days fly by so fast,
cool weather’s lurking in the wings.
School holidays they never last,
warm summer days fly by so fast
Dead foliage will soon whizz past -
“Those Autumn Leaves” my grandma sings!
Warm summer days fly by so fast,
cool weather’s lurking in the wings.
Half past summer, two months till fall
Leaves are still green, sun shining bold
Flowers still bloom, and birds still call
Half past summer, two months till fall
Visions of Fall, dressed in her shawl
Her breath swirls the leaves, turns them gold
Half past summer, two months till fall
Leaves are still green, sun shining bold
They quickly pass, the waning days more brief,
like love once shied beneath a garish moon,
expose the truths betrayed by Autumn's thief.
Infatuation always ends too soon ~
still tethered to the oak, a hopeful leaf...
for Andrea's "Half Past Summer" Contest
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