Poetry

Posts tagged with PTSD

  1. Season

    “Seasons are always changing. What season are you in?” I am in a season of “fuck you, you don’t can’t couldn’t possibly definitely don’t know me” so stop trying right there right where you are. Stop and don’t get any closer. I am a dragon swallowing my fire. I am…


  2. Too Much Again

    I keep a shard of glass tucked in the back of a drawer in case it all becomes  too much again.  (c) LSP Fine Art + Studio LeRoi


  3. Somewhere Far Away

    It’s the dog days of summer The crepe myrtles are in bloom  Shining their pinks to  Anyone who should care to look  Black-eyed Susans stare intently  At twilight’s last gleaming  It’s the blue hour Clear and mad and repeating The same song you’ve known Since the beginning Purple coneflower, butterfly…


  4. Survivor

    Sometimes when I look in the mirror I see my father’s body reflected back The same muscled arms Skin browned from summer sun Legs taut from constant activity  Restless soul walking the same earth Playing out the same story Generation after generation Stone upon stone. But not looking doesn’t have…


  5. Tiny Earthquakes

    I certainly hope you do not and will not meet your demise under a pile of books unless of course there’s an earthquake or many little earthquakes, tiny earthquakes shaking the tiny bit of ground they have because God damn it it’s theirs and what’s the point of living anyway…


  6. Tabula Rasa Then the Rest

    The secrets I carry are not my own They were glued to my body by my mother with Rubber Cement glue to match the cement galoshes weighing down the body  as it struggles to tread water in the ocean. Another wave crests and pushes our face our head under water.…


  7. Not the Story

    The lake, flowing freely like an infinity pool  bending back on itself curving figures, carving eights. It hypnotizes, swells when you consider: the depths, its depths, your depths. You plumb the depths with purpose probing and examining where you’ve been in order to draw a map to where you’re going.…


  8. Does the Camera Lie

    Does the camera lie or does it tell the whole fat ugly truth from soup to nuts then back to soup again? The camera tells the whole truth and nothing but the truth  so help us God close your eyes and close your gates Only neutral expressions welcome here people…


  9. American Sunrise

    The things we do in secret to prepare for the Apocalypse  I have always known the ending carry the same evil inside my body injected by my ______’s penis five or six years old the same evil Uncle Sam is pumping into your children  I demand awakening through the  gateway…


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