subtext

My Poetry and Commentary on Life

  • This Writer’s Beginnings: EarlyYears
  • Bread Loaf Influence
  • Rock and Roll High School
  • About

Designed with WordPress

  • manifestation

    by

    acceptance, control, metaphor, poetry, silence, unstable, ways of knowing
    do not mark
    the chain
    mouthed softly
    as she speaks
    just submit
    quit
    accept futility
    as your god
    then vanish
    into the earth
    beneath her feet
    as you pray for love
    in open-mouthed
    silence

    (May 5, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • Feeding

    by

    anger, meaning, metaphor, poetry, tension, unstable
    to remove anger from my bones
    I tear my nails through skin
    extracting fat blue veins
    between the muscle and tendon
    like earthworms from the ground
    writhing in a robin’s clenched beak

    (May 5, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • be not coy

    by

    erato, eros, metaphor, poetry
    The rose opens to his touch,
    the petal’s flesh moist
    between his fingers.

    (May 4, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • as the wolf bites down

    by

    poetry, thinking
    it’s easy to say
    don’t be afraid
    but when the slaver
    drips from the jaws
    your fingers pry apart
    truth becomes slippery
    and fear and luck
    conspire to justify
    all your panicked whispers
    through the solitary dark

    (May 2, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • Two Haiku on the Scaffold Steps

    by

    acceptance, fate, metaphor, poetry, power
    How soft can one go
    to deflect the killing blow?
    The wind flows through leaves.
    *
    Another chain’s forged
    bending your head to the ground;
    the axe blade gleams near.

    (May 2, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • Devil’s Price

    by

    control, fate, fear, happiness, irony, life, poetry
    I fear I
    will find I
    have become
    the person
    I despise.

    (April 30, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • Remains

    by

    acceptance, fate, life, poetry, process, traces
    Little is left of what I have done,
    like a meal after everyone is gone,
    the table cleaned, the dishes put away,
    by dawn only a trace lingers in air,
    to hint at the beauty of life’s passing.
    (April 29, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • In Time

    by

    existential angst, poetry, time
    with this drought the seed
    overlooked by the sparrow
    must wait for the sun
    to relent it’s cold greed

    (April 29, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • My Fear Finds Me

    by

    community, fragments, poetry, tension, traces, ways of knowing
    Within this light
    I carry, I am only
    able to see beyond
    myself a certain way
    into the darkness.
    Friends turn as I
    enter; in greeting,
    I nod as if I know
    anything more
    than who I once was.
    I bring what I can
    to the table, scraps
    of past ideas I can
    no longer patch
    together as one.
    I try to listen,
    but only sense
    the conversation’s
    rhythms and flow
    dancing in the room.
    Uncaught in any
    ear, I watch my
    metaphors die
    gasping in need
    of explanations.
    The noise becomes
    my silence, a cocoon
    to comfort into safe
    solace while the world’s
    fangs drip in hunger.

    (April 28, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • sentence

    by

    acceptance, control, poetry
    Condemned to a life
    of controlled contentment:
    to do what’s expected;
    to play the proper part;
    to exist not live
    within this labyrinth,
    I translate my loss of self
    into a cleaner line stripped
    of loose tangential talk,
    one where I could rise out
    of my self-loathing,
    attempt to fly on the wings
    of a stereotype so simple
    no explanation would be asked
    after the unremarked crash.

    (April 27, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • unstable

    by

    fate, fragments, poetry, unstable
    “the millstones
    commenced their grinding again”
                            –Denise Levertov
    I am only
    a tremble
    in this air,
    which I gulp
    as if drowning
    in a water far deeper
    than I could ever
    wade before
    slipping
    beneath the surface
    with a last
    quick thrash.
    This morning
    at the rear of the meeting,
    I read poetry
    as they sold
    their promises
    of puffery
    and change
    without change,
    and felt fragments
    blister and flake
    from my soul
    like painted facades
    in the sharp summer
    light until only
    tears remained
    to rise
    against the broken levee.

    (April 26, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • and always a wolf lurks close by

    by

    life, love, mythic, poetry, romance, social construction, sonnets
    She wonders where he goes
    as he turns another corner;
    she panics she will lose him
    as he wanders in the wood.
    He walks in tighter circles
    not knowing tree from tree.
    He broods into the darkened sky
    fretting the silence in his laughter.
    She pads between birch and elm
    not knowing all she knows;
    she finds her way to track him
    dropping crumbs upon the ground.
    With another layer of abstraction,
    we hide within cliché’s expectation.

    (April 25, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • poet to priest

    by

    control, poetry, silence, ways of knowing
     “no wind is the king’s wind”
                       –Ezra Pound

    Once again,
    you tell me
    what my words mean;
    not placing words in my mouth,
    but taking my words,
    reshaping them
    to your purposes,
    an appropriation of intent.
    Content in your beatific vision,
    you sit blinded
    to the insights of dissent,
    the first slow tremble
    of the lotus
    before the fall.
    Be still;
    know in this silence
    between now
    and the damp petals
    upon the resurgent ground.

    (April 24, 2013)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • perhaps

    by

    dissatisfaction, doubt, happiness, meaning, poetry, ways of knowing
    perhaps his heart could hold
    a desire for tomorrow
    as if the future were
    more than not now
    a veiled perpetual
    pessimism of today
    perhaps hope propelled
    him toward a purpose
    to provide reason
    for all the troubled
    moments of doubt
    devouring him like crows
    perhaps memory marred him
    into a trust with the way
    he wanted to believe
    every option presented
    as true as before
    when his story was new
    perhaps he can open enough
    within himself for light
    to dance away despair’s
    weary plod and grumble
    perhaps he will know
    the joy about him

    (April 23, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…
  • lament

    by

    erato, eros, lists, love, poetry
    I miss your laughter
    I miss your eyes
    when you laugh
    I miss the loose strands
    of hair at your neck
    I miss your hands
    as you talk
    your hands
    in my hands
    your hands
    on my skin
    I miss your skin
    soft along your clavicle
    the small of your back
    I miss you near me in silence
    I miss your talk
    your intellect
    your obsessions
    your anger
    I miss your passions
    your kiss
    I miss
    you

    (April 22, 2014)

    Share this:

    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    Like Loading…




«Previous Poem Next Poem»
  • Subscribe Subscribed
    subtext
    Join 410 other subscribers

    Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.

  • subtext
    View site in Reader
    Manage subscriptionsSign upLog in
    Report this content
    Collapse this bar
%d