mom, i think im dying
and i think i will miss you
my 8 year old self would hate me for that
but you are my flesh, my home
your rage is a tribute to all you have endured, perhaps misdirected, but i think i understand you now
a final encore
i know that scares you
it scares me too
i spent all my life despising you, for things out of our control
but perhaps i am you
i blamed you and i blamed you and i blamed you
but i never knew you
a young scared broken girl, your brain a storm of love, for hatred. your brain is my brain, your love is my love, your fear is my fear, anguish is my anguish. i feel what you felt
oh mother, hold me, brush my hair, kiss my forehead
for this is the end, and i don't hate you anymore. forgive me
i will die your daughter
and i will be rebirthed as your haunter
Categories:
haunter, angst,
Form: Free verse
In his weary hour
The legumes blossom on time;
Out of jocundity in honour
Of the beautiful turf
The drowsy peasant peak.
His weird blistered palm blimey,
His nasty regalia wretched,
He produces plenty and eats small
He produces good and eats bad
To the nobles he worked,
The dark noxious pest
Ravage and wrest
The peasant-shaddock
This tonic the dressy peasant
A nocturnal haunter.
This extempore task
Demoralizes his sinew
His swansong
Rhythmically envelops
In serenity and drone.
Each rising smoke
Nervous him to move.
This previous eyes
That know no peace
By the smiling scorching sun.
At the dark hour
He puts on his clogs
And marched to the farm shack
There he finds the beetles
On the yam.
The great anxiety of the peasant
Is the bragging fire of winter
He fasted to lull it
He became gaunt
The sturdy peasant.
The time unknown: the blazing fire
Burnt the bedecked bower
The ranch house and the lettuce
Barefooted staggered him
To the farm with his straw hat
And met the yelling ashes
The cracking twigs of cocoa plant
The peasant live no day
Longer than that and slept
Categories:
haunter, anxiety, dedication, farm, holocaust,
Form: Pastoral
I hunt the ghosts
still stalking me
through caverns of
insanity
dark moments when
our shadows creep
beyond the boundaries
where we weep
infringe upon
the here and now
fleeing from the
when and how
John G. Lawless
©9/18/2018
Categories:
haunter, loss, self,
Form: Rhyme
A shrank is a plot point you had to move through to become you,
it had to slide right in-between the two red Sea's you carry with the...
No-one could expect a place to be after it's all seen, but your mind is obscene,
have you not heard me?
Latter days in,
expelled ways,
listener rells,
but that countries expelled!
Grip, grime, pell,
pull it in with the weld-
baby it had to be hell,
I pulled the all the way across a spell?
Hey heckedy he-he!
It's a male gene,
no-one expected reliance upon compliance in such a hot car but heyy! We dived pretty far!
Look at thee!
Look at thee!
It's promising me some saunter,
a grace glance at the haunter!
We loved him,
expected his yonder,
far fetched songer with-a bonger!
Because who knows every wanderer!
Categories:
haunter, business, class, desire, growth,
Form: Blank verse
Didn't know
how to be in this God haunted house,
I Mr imperfect:
short sighted and tone deaf
I saw things move as by a poltergeist,
heard thuds as though a carpenter lived between floors.
Speaking;
I could not ask and hear.
I'm sure she spoke but I wouldn't listen.
I don't want to know about him;
I want him
I can't have placating words,
I need love I can feel
I know it in my bones
but my flesh is all serpent like;
Writhing
in it's own oil spill
of fear and greed
needing a saving, cleanup operation
I'm sure you want to;
but I do not dare.
I take a deep breath
and look out of the window
I see it's raining
and almost trip as a I rush outside
I hope that the rain itself is the tears
of the one my heart seeks
soaking;
I cry myself; knowing his grief
Freezing I know the loneliness of all of His
I'm made one of them.
I didn't know how to live
in this God haunted house,
I a son,
a lover,
the adulterer,
the unfinished.
I still wrestle with doubt in my darkness
Panting;
I worship silently, unworthily,
Wrecked
I feel the cross of the world wearing me
I'm sure I can't live in this without the haunter...
Categories:
haunter, allegory, faith, hope, inspirational,
Form: Blank verse
Candles sparkle, reflections bounce off the accent wall I painted red
"When a man loves a woman" bangs from the speakers
Pops from the wood echo through the room
my body trembling, your hands are impatient
Tires coated in rain water glides across the black tar blaring from the window cracks
The heat from your dark chocolate skin and the shine from that cherry limade lip gloss I
picked up from the corner store seemed to scent the room
You change tremendously in size
My emotions are tangled like yarn in the hands of a kitten
My temptations are like mating tiger in the safari
We reach a new esculator of feelings
I take it all in, the sounds, the popping of the wood, the music from the streets drums in my
ears
I give into you
You are floored by me
And the steam from our love makes the candles sweat
As we lay there panting like the haunter and its prey both staring at that red accented wall
I turn to you with love in my smile
and then I close my eyes
and when I open them I find myself alone with only a memory of us in my empty apartment
Categories:
haunter, love, passion, love,
Form: Concrete