Category: Poetry

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Legacy

Existential thoughts rise at 3am, 

Creeps in through the bedroom window with the cold air,

Memories spin vivid like television flashbacks,

Count each drop of blood, each tear, each moment sulking in the bathtub,

It was what it was –

You are still you and you are here now,

So what will it be?

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What If the Sea Was Empty?

don’t you miss getting piss-drunk in the evenings, then losing your mind to delirium?
inside/outside of reality at the same time.
did any of it mean anything,
if we were simply swimming in between increased serotonin and neutrality?
all of those choices…

what if the sea was empty?
and the sky, the land, every memory – all part of a vast dream?
je pense, donc je suis.
take cover, take a credit,
take it one step at a time.

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City Dweller 

The city moves and I move with it,

Pulsing to the rythym of the engines, on nearby cars stuck in traffic.
Slide through heavy crowds of people working, roaming around Downtown,

Then when the sun falls, I meander back to my little village.

The city moves and I move with it,

But at the end I must admit, nothing beats a glass of wine in the bathtub.