(2015)
#Broken #Cadence #Free-verseHeart #Jennings #Pain #Parker #Poem #Poet #Poetry
I have seen my own death, it isn’t pretty. My face as a corpse is unkempt. It’s ok, I wasn’t perfect. It is strange,
Oh how I wish my talent with words were like that of a painter with color and dimension.
Lurid music dripping about starts softly then crescendos into something
I grew up staring starry-eyed at t… of healthier men walking out of do… head held high while I kept their… It wasn’t something to really envy… and a fine nights sleep. No family…
And the others withhold experience from me. So that I sit, and stare,
Her gaze is slightly off-center as she stares at an unknown landscape. Only I can wonder. Long black hair
I really wanted to die underneath that heavenly blue sky, and leave behind the tensions and… and float upwards and away from th… No longer called a buffoon,
A long time ago I wrote a poem for a girl whose beauty and grace was captivating, enthralling but who was also
I live in the street of somethings… I live 30 feet beneath the street. It scares me sometimes. Life rests its crest,
The tower of Babel was destined to fall not because of the wrath of God, but the hatred
Inner burst of joy– from a caffeine fix– The modern day call to action. I do not stand, I sit for miles and transfixed on the
Why choose misery over the joy found when mugs on the table hide their secrets and pour out everything
Fire and Water sensations rinses and rises as a dutiful procedure. Felt within,
As I sat on that dark misty cliff… and felt the tips of the ocean bel… lightly on my face, in comfort or… by that sun burst into the world w… The sea beneath my dangling feet r…
The rain wanted to fight me. Pouring down to become pines and n… splashing upwards, dropping down with mock-unison into the now flooded sidewalk.