Journey Poetry Poems

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Henry carried his house on his back,
He could get up and leave, no need to pack. 
Although travel was slow
For this escargot
He traveled alone, made...

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IN MY 16 YEARS..


They always tell you, Comparison is the thief of joy,
 I miss those years of innocence where it was just me and...

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Well, here I am again… at my crossroads
I can tell they are mine
The marker I.D. reads “Between a rock and a hard place”

“What a shameful...

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Life is a short drive,
though the ways be long.
A journey twists and turns
before it can be made straight.

He drove many cars,
most had six windows.
in each...

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The shifting tides of change washed over me like a tidal wave. 
It was in that moment of chaos and uncertainty that I found my...

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Beneath the churning skies and wrathful sea, 
A lone man wails into swirling agony.
Each crashing wave, a relentless assault,
Mirroring the chaos of his inner tumult.

Beneath...

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Within Me

Trapped within, a tempest roars,
Where demons dance and anguish pours,
In the haunted halls of my soul's estate,
Dwells a darkness deep, where love and hate...

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Poetry is a drug, mixed in the alchemy of the night,
An elixir of never-ending dreams, the bitter drink of wandering souls,
Poured into the empty goblets...

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She smiles
and considers the crowd,
all backward somersaulting
detached vagabonds, all,
serious soft smalls revealed -
marshmallows imbued
with the glee of writing 
irregular poetry;
works of art thou art, ...

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Our brains, the experts do opine,
Have a left side, a right side, and a dividing line –
But that daunting corpus callosum
I fear to cross it...

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What am I?
 
I’m great fun and sometimes crazy,
Loud or soft with moods quite hazy,
Full of love, sorrow, unrequited loss,
One minute happy another sullen, cross.
I...

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The Revenant pt. 3 - The Midnight Hour

             ~{Renatus}~

Toll of the bell at...

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Brain cells that were once bright shiny colourful marbles
Now starting to dull and lose the vibrancy they once had
Some days they still shine but in...

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He wrote a bible every day,
a poem without beginning or foreseeable end,
yet like the New Testament
they were the work of his inner Jesus
the same Jesus...

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Strangled into the ropes of death
An undeserving figure took the role finely
Tears were my favorite pal
Scribbling manifested my parallel reality
Overthrowing seemed an eminent long journey
Warmth...

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