Details |
Max Horton Poem
She wanders through the cave
Caressing its walls with a slender finger
Cautiously, she treads
With attention to every detail
Every stalactite,
Every blemish,
Every twist and turn,
Effortlessly inscribed in her mind.
It feels her there
Inside its walls
Exploring all its corridors.
It welcomed her
Guided her down its myriad alleys
Exposing both the good and the bad.
It is amazed by her;
Every move reveals
Her ever-sophisticated mind: the pinnacle of human thought
Her creativity: it had never seen so many novel ideas and concepts from one brain.
She’s frightening
So intelligent, and so beautiful
Brighter than its most brilliant gemstones
She slowly makes it her home
Residing in its vivid green chamber
She writes her words upon its walls
Adorning them with the distinct marks of her heart
It has grown used to her
Accustomed to her
But there are still many parts of her soul that remain unknown.
It is terrified
Terrified at the thought of her ever leaving
It wants so badly to simply remain with her for eternity.
But eternity is a lot to ask for.
So, it pushes away such negative ideas, realizing that it can only do anything to affect right now, not the future.
It cherishes every moment with her
And for as long as she is its
And it is hers
Its mind is in peaceful bliss,
And there is nothing more in the world that it could ever want.
Copyright © Max Horton | Year Posted 2018
|
Details |
Max Horton Poem
Two sat at a table where the board lay
Gears turning, pondering a play.
Simple conversation was being made;
Talking and talking, but few thoughts were said.
They exchanged many a move,
Probing at the other’s mind.
Very little sufficed to reveal their intent —
However, the ever-cautious pair, riddled with doubt
Felt petrified of decision without
Some explicit,
Some undeniable,
Some irrefutable notion to confirm
What they had surmised from their conduct
Inevitably, the two grew tired of their exchange,
Waiting for a sign that never came
They rose from their posts;
Frustrated,
Disappointed.
They left and travelled their separate ways,
And haven’t seen each other to this day.
Copyright © Max Horton | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Max Horton Poem
There’s nothing inside
But a deep, deep hole
It’s all black and white
Color’s just a fairy tale
Does anything really matter?
Does anyone really care?
Purpose is just a word
In a language I can’t speak
Satiate yourself
With fables and lies
Put your hands over your eyes
So you can’t see what’s coming for you
Have you ever really thought for yourself?
It doesn’t seem that way to me
You buy everything they’re selling
Without glancing at the price
Some days I just want to close my eyes
Illusion myself with your fake world
But I cut away my eyelids long ago
And oh, how they burned and bled.
You’re so good at wishful thinking
The best I’ve ever known
But now you’re sitting in a white room
Full of people
And you’re all alone.
You have nothing left to love
But your bootleg friends
And a counterfeit future
Copyright © Max Horton | Year Posted 2018
|
Details |
Max Horton Poem
I’m flailing,
Drowning in this pit of my own design
You don’t know,
They don’t know,
And quite frankly, I don’t know
Why this came to be.
Each time I near the surface,
I am thrusted further down
I can’t see,
I can’t breathe,
I’m blind to everything but me
Copyright © Max Horton | Year Posted 2018
|