These words
Are such a limp expression
Of the rage
You’ve evoked
Within me
You cannot fathom
The pain I could induce
Were I to yield
The full weight of my mind
Upon the sole task
Of destroying yours
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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If I knew
How hard
I’d have to work
In order
To not have to
Work so hard
I’d have probably
Settled for a day job
Only now
Do I realize
Just how tall
The mountain
Truly is
And how strong
I’ll have to be
To climb it
Nonetheless
I am grateful
For my ignorance
For it made me
Strong enough
To believe
That I can become strong enough
To make it
To the top
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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The candle burns
Giving light
Giving warmth
By fulfilling its function
It destroys itself
By destroying itself
It serves others
The candle burns
Sacrificing itself
For us
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Seen through their eyes
my father’s shame
a new disguise.
Their questions,
first responded to by lies,
then by compromise,
and finally by a summarize
of all the things I despise.
Somehow they are surprised
to find me so compromised,
so paralyzed,
So utterly debilitized
with my inability to
sit analyzed
and scrutinized
and demoralized
and so clearly despised.
Of course they’ve taken offence
at my dropping of the pretense.
How could I have been so dense
to think they could handle my defense,
to think they’d want me to get off the fence,
to think they’d want my two cents?
Yes I’m intense.
Yes my pain presents as a nuisance.
Yes my demons are immense.
It’s common sense
All they see is my father in me.
How’s that for a recompense?
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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How
Can I accept
Your offer to help
When that very offer
Is tainted?
By opening myself
To your love
I would also be reopening
The old wounds
Inflicted by you
Unfortunately
For both of us
Your love
Isn’t strong enough
To stop that pain
Unfortunately
For both of us
I am not
Strong enough
To move on
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Insert pretentious words here
To abstractly elucidate beauty
Ensure reader’s confusion
And thus embarrassed admiration
As they critique themselves
For not ‘getting it’
Then watch as they lose interest
Relegating all poetry
As something beyond their reach
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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a man
played a song
in my dreams last night
it was a eulogy
a homage to a life lost
it was a simple song
softy sung
but powerfully prosed
i woke weeping
mourning a man
that I never knew
mourning a song
that no longer exists
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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calm
within the eye
of the storm
joy
vicariously
obtained
warmth
besides
growing fire
clarity
from duty
beyond self
peace
of a riptide’s
pull
focus
alongside
fear
awe
at primal
efficiency
pleasure
in
pain
release
through acceptance
of death
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Sometimes,
I feel like a seed.
A potential inert,
A possibility to succeed.
So just put me in the dirt
And give me what I need.
How else can I avert?
How else can I exceed?
Other times,
I feel hurt.
Just a societal weed.
A potential victim on alert,
Nurtured only when I bleed.
I don’t mean to be curt,
How else can I plead?
How else can I divert?
How else can I be freed?
I am the hurt seed, the weed that’s only freed by the blood that it bleeds. Put into the dirt just wishing to exceed. Inert without encouragement, unable to succeed. Thus, I plead; Be alert to my need. Don’t divert or think me curt, I just want to succeed.
So just bury me
And perhaps this seed
Will grow
Into a weed.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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If I could just
Monetize my pain
I’d be able
To exist
In this world
As myself
Until then
All I can offer you
Are these
Few
Words
Of myself
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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There is a moment that comes
Just before a lightening strike
When I notice an ever so slight shift
A constriction
A dropping
A sense of dread mixed with wonder
In that brief moment
I feel truly connected to the world
No longer merely observing it
No longer apart from it
But a part of it
It’s feels as if time stops
As if there is an eternity between that moment
And the flash
And the rumble
And the rain
It’s just one moment
But that one moment
Is enough
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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You know what’s worse
Than feeling completely overwhelmed
By the mundanity of normal life?
The shame
The knowing
That I
Now must
Make plans to cope
With things most others thoughtlessly navigate
The knowing
That I
Now must
Choose between
The embarrassment of bailing
Or the embarrassment of failing
The knowing
That I
Now must
Accept
The fact that I am limited
That my desires will forever outstrip my capacity
All in order to survive
A crowd
A noise
A smell
A look
A word
A touch
A thought
Yes
Even a thought
My mind
In its infinite wisdom
Sometimes views the thoughts it itself creates
As so dangerous to its own existence
That it deems it appropriate
To shut itself down
The shame
The isolation
The confusion
The loneliness
The limitation
The fear
The inevitability
The holding back
The rumination
The depression
The shame
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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From the first
I could see that you
Were wrong
Only now
Do I see
That I was too
How much
Would we have saved
If only we both knew?
Now I sit in regret
Wondering if you
Are sitting likewise too
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
and then
you remember
the breath
and the silence
within
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Sad Zac is sad
He’s feeling bad
He’s feeling like he’s been had
That the times he was glad
And feeling rad
Were in fact just a fad
As a wee lad
Sad Zac couldn’t relate to any comrade
He was bullied by Chad
Crying, he asked advice from his dad
‘Just punch his face a tad’
Lesson learnt, fists make a nomad
Add one tick to the notepad
No one approaches the battle clad
No one threatens the mad
Sad Zac is sad
Remembering his dad
Remembering him before he was mad
Rereading the notepad
Reminiscing of the success had
Ruminating on his advice to play mad
And embodying it as a personality pad
Sad Zac now fears the nomad
And trains daily for a fight he’s not yet had
Fear of the footpad wielding a doodad
Has grown into fear of every comrade
‘Where is the rest of the advice, dad?’
‘How can I avoid also going mad?’
‘What can I do to stay feeling glad?’
‘Who can I turn to now that you’re just a notepad?’
Sad Zac is still sad
But also a tad glad
Because putting these thoughts on this notepad
Has alleviated some of the mad
He still feels bad
But writing has healed some of his inner lad
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Impending doom
Looms over the womb
Nothing can exhume
The gloom of the tomb
Life is just a costume
An heirloom
A temporary bloom
Before the darkness consumes
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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Do I think it true
Because it is
Or because I want it to be?
I cannot see
The bonds that blind me
But I know they’re there
Death isn’t tragic
But how death occurs
Most often is
Fantasy
Can only exist
If I’m an active participant
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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When I die
What will be left of me
Beyond these words
And
The impact I have had
On others?
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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I struggle to know
What I want to do
But I know
I want to do it with you
I struggle to know
What I want to be
But I know
I want you to be with me
I struggle to know
Who I am
But I know
Without you I’m a sham
I struggle to know
What I should think
But I know
Without you I’d shrink
I struggle to know
Where I want to go
But I know
I want you to show
I struggle to know
But you help me see
You show me
What it means to be me
You teach
And you guide
You let me confide
You help
And you heal
You let me conceal
You are
My everything
In my life
All hope you bring
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
I’m held
By the inertia
Of my own inaction
If
If only
If only I
If only I could
If only I could just
If only I could just take
One
Single
Step
I know
I’d be free
Forever
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
