Happiless

Happiless
When I feel this way
Happiless
Is how I feel today
Can’t tell the difference between blue and tired
There is no light at the end of this tunnel
There is no light at the end of this tunnel
Just gray
Happiless
Present love
An easy cure
The problem now
The problem before
Happiless
Is a cold entrance wound
I’m not sad
Not mad.
Just happiless

Not sad. Not mad. Just tired. Just gray.

IMAGE:  Leslie Avon Miller / December 03, 2011

Black Grass

Black grass

Black grass
White sky
Fog walls
Comfort from the stage
Safe
No one can invade
Out here
No shade
Black grass blade
I breathe
You suffocate
I walk today
Chilled and damp
Heaven made
Red stains
Biological rain
Red on the blade
A red name
The old neighborhood
Wasn’t that friendly
Keep me in the white
I’m the memory
Safe in my grave

I’m reading into many things in only black and white. Gray is smoke, not contrast. I’m starving to decide. The in between is memory.  Black and white. 

IMAGE: Riensberg Cemetery Bremen, Germany

 

It’s The Inside

It’s The Inside. It’s the inside that counts.

“It’s the inside that counts” is a barren affirmation.
A person is not 2 people, nor 2 halves.
There is not an inside and an outside.
We are a whole package.

We market the inside when the outside is in question.
Or we sell our “curb appeal” over a dilapidated interior.
Nobody gets to cherry pick another person.
Nor should anyone sell themselves short.

We have as many varieties of our species as there are human beings.
Enhancements here, disadvantages there.
Opinions and judgments aren’t real.
When presenting oneself, proclaim, “It’s all or nothing!”

Something got under my skin. This is less of a poem and more of a rant. 

IMAGE: ‘You Blew Me Away’ sculpture by Penny Hardy

Cement

Cement

Descending stairs
In the cement dark
Not cold but stifling air
Cannot see one cement stair
Would a florescent flicker show
Blood unknown?
Splattered, smeared
A red cascade rolled out for
A VIP
A guest of honor
Keep out any light
Guess the way down
Cement wall
Cement hall
Inside of anywhere
Cannot see a single thing
The smell of a diamond ring
The unseen bloody scene
Cannot keep cement clean
The descending cement stairs
Blindly leading anywhere

I don’t know where I got the imagery from. But there it was in my head so I wrote it down. 

IMAGE: darksilenceinsuburbia: Maryam Savoji. Steps Towards Love.     Saatchi Gallery