TBT: Rape and Pillage

As words pour from my mind onto the page, and I wait,

like wine for the world to better with age.

It’s only effect is drunkening like the taste of burning whisky.

The door to everlasting love is locked and I don’t hold the key.

I cry desperately into the dark and wait longingly for a faint answer.

Still no sound comes from the black abyss that is love.


Despite my self advice I continue digging a hole in the sand.

Wave upon wave of dirty salty water spoils my plans.

To build around myself the mightiest of fortresses.

Time after time my walls crash down as a soft breeze passes.

I will never stop the rape and pillage of my heart.

TBT: Caught by Love

Ah the innocence and enthusiasm of my youth. It’s wonderful to read poems I wrote as a teen.

Sand clings to the naked body like a new skin.

Free falling into a thing called love a life is ready to begin.

Underground the Earth rumbles and shakes the world above.

Growing together from the strange chemical of love.

Father please save me, for I know not what I do.

Flying as if there was nothing that clouds my soul, renewed.

Arrows pierce my flesh and puncture my bleeding heart.

Eyes blinded from all things when we are apart.

Caught by love, practicing the single most beautiful form of art.

TBT: Poem…Satan’s Welcome

Wow! Totally hadn’t seen this poem I wrote in High School for probably near 20 years. Totally forgot about it. I’m a little impressed with teenaged me taking on something this dark.

Water floods and drowns a soul that is now extinct.

Running from a storm; fear reduces man to instinct.

Hell beckons, for a new tenant is always welcomed happily.

Paralyzed, the body cannot run from the grasp of destiny.

Klaus calls your name from a list he tightly clutches.

Crying desperately as it’s you that fate touches.

A glass of wine as the devil’s servants observe his art.

Fingers squeeze the last drops of blood from your vacant heart.

TBT: Poem, Wasted Beauty

Wasted Beauty

In a soft field of grass an elegant flower blooms tall and proud.

Drinking peacefully of the rain from a smooth white cloud.

The sun warms its’ beautiful petals all day until night.

Perfect the flower seems standing in the beautiful light.

Unseen to the world the flower goes unappreciated.

Its’ worth despite its’ potential is completely decimated.

The flower remains forever hidden from the worlds view.

For a flower forever unseen holds no value.

TBT: Poem Forever True

Alcohol swimming in your mind, blinding your soft eyes and hurting fate.

Tranquilly sitting in a boat, drifting on a glass lake.

Everywhere crawl people who long to hold your reflection.

Drunk off power, possession, personal satisfaction.

Heathens toss stones, shattering the glass and your might.

Shaking from confusion anyone who comes near gets a fight.

A flask of kindness, caring and love, is all I can offer to you.

Sweet lips taste the good, I will hold you forever true

TBT: Poem Nature’s Gifts, Nurtures Lessons

A young boy bright and strong,

A young boy average in every way,

Full of joy and full of song,

He loved to run around and play,

A boy who seemed to do nothing wrong,

A simple boy who lived only for the next day.

Parents push the boy harder and harder,

They let the boy live life for his self,

The boy’s performance got better and better,

With some love and care and a little help,

The pressure was getting even heavier,

Throughout his childhood his parents love was felt.

Living with some friends in disarray,

Average still, though he got a degree,

Drinking and doing lines every day,

Yet like any bird he is completely free,

The child needed to find his own way,

Love and care is what all children need.

Poor parenting destroyed the talents given by nature.

An average child succeeded with a little nurture.

TBT: Poem Asleep in my Bed

Weary, tired and soar from a long hard day,

Skull pounding and throbbing, headache won’t go away,

Stomach turning, rolling, churning, from lack of food,

All day spent with people, vulgar and rude,

Combined, it all created a pretty poor mood.

Lay down, slip under the covers so warm,

Soon as peaceful as a baby just born,

Close your heavy tired eyes and drift off to sleep,

Gradually content and peace will creep,

Time spent in twilight is always yours to keep.

Muscles relaxed and quickly recovering,

Anything can happen while you are slumbering,

Mind drifting from place to place without care,

Wherever you want to go, you can go there,

In your dreams everyone can be bare.

Dreaming of love, lust and content,

It all comes easy with hardly an attempt,

In a dream no door has a lock,

Every great blue ocean has a dock,

And it all ends at the sound of an alarm clock

TBT: The Feeling

Two people living quiet and alone,

Suddenly into a spinning chaos are thrown,

Madly chasing their tails like a dog,

They find each other through the thick fog.

Running and jumping over sharp rocks and logs,

Crawling through a thick deep muddy bog.

Still they stand, now together they’ve grown.

Hearts beating and racing entirely too fast,

Not a single thought remains of the past,

Thumping and bumping the friction is hard,

Quickly the snake slithers through the yard,

Sweet sweat rolls down soft skin so smooth,

Tongues leaving slick saliva as they move,

With a huge burst and a cry it’s over, at last.

A cool breeze returns to the night.

The silhouette can be made out in the light.

Bodies embraced and as one they breath.

All pain and anguish has all but left.

Peace and tranquility is all that remains.

Forever the unstoppable heart will retain,

the feeling .

TBT: Soldier’s Qualification

The air is hot and thick and full of smoke,

It’s hard to breath, some cough and choke,

The sun burns down hot with all its might,

When looking around eyes are burned by the light,

Salty sticky sweat pours over rough skin,

Jagged sharp rocks cut the body like pins,

Squinting hard through the tiny sights,

Hand shaking while grasping with all its might,

Freddie pops up and glares with glee,

Gently squeeze the trigger and kill him angrily.

TBT: The Laundry


Here is a little sensory exercise I did while at the coin laundry yesterday. It was pretty much the way I describe it, only I have a tendency to make things seem more dramatic than they are.

The light inside is not quite dim but not quite bright, it’s as though there is plenty of light but the light is grey and therefore seems darker than it ought to. The windows are no help as they appear opaque with paint spay on the glass along with dirt and water spots. If anything they make the room seem more enclosed than open. The walls too are not white though they are supposed to be. A film of grey has settled on them dulling their appearance and making the entire room feel darker.

The machines are a shamble. Half of the dryers have a sign that reads “do not use” taped to the glass on the front of the machine. Some of the washers as well are missing the glass altogether, rendering them inoperable. Even the ones that are not labeled as broken, or are clearly broken, show signs of wear that seem excessive for a laundry. There are dents and paint missing in parts that suggest the machines had survived some sort of bombardment. Perhaps they had.

There is dirt on the ground from the outside, and dust from the laundry swirled around on the floor in an almost intelligible pattern. Dryer sheets are scattered about, and a couple of socks that clearly do not go together and were somehow left behind in this wasteland to suffer endless loneliness.

The air is almost too hot to breathe. Somehow it is hotter in the building than out. It is humid in here and is nearly suffocating. Occasionally a hot breeze blows into the building pushing the door and making it swing, but this only serves to remind me of the desolation of the place.

The only noise is the humming and rumbling of the washing machine and the noise of cars passing by outside. The machine beeps loudly on occasion signaling the end of some action and the beginning of another, then continuing with its work.

I can’t even discern a specific sent in the place. I expected to smell detergent, and cotton, but smell nothing. This too is troubling. Like I am not actually in a laundry, but a building meant for another purpose, disguised as a laundry. The air smells stale is all—washed of any important sent.

There is a camera in the far corner of the room. It is pointed right at me and I glance at it regularly expecting that it is staring at me with nothing else to look at. Yet I wonder if it is even operating since there is no light flashing or any other indication that it is on. Another sphere is above me and to the right. Such things usually hide cameras but again I have no way of knowing whether anyone is watching. Somehow wondering if I’m being watched is worse than knowing that I’m being watched.

The entire place is like a ghost town. There is nothing but destruction and dirt around me. Graffiti and trash. Warning signs and instructions that have certain letters scratched off. Sitting here alone is making me feel as though I am trespassing somewhere dangerous.

Then she stepped in.