Emotional Closure

featured in the poetry forum April 28, 2014  :: 0 comments

As the mind unwinds the dissolution of fear,
Unspoken becomes spoken with new found discourse,
Red eyes no more just receding tears.
Flowers smell of I adore trying to close the mind subsists,
Exit sign still exists over that door
now let your feet sway the floor on your way out that door.

editors note:

Turn retreat to triumph; exit one to enter the other. – mh

P.T.S.D.

featured in the poetry forum February 27, 2014  :: 0 comments

Fossilized memories rebirth, obliterating pursuit of happiness, uncultivated mind with an interpretation of fallow espousing renunciation of self-destruction, mental filtering the culprit as the body ossifies and words of comfort don’t satisfy a mind that orbits within an illusionary prison projecting demeanors effecting physically and mentally, mind spirals out of control; lost hope, no willingness and broken conviction having no recognition of a mental condition only the spontaneous reminiscence of a war.

editors note:

When memory is reflex, jump down, hit the ground, wail and cry; though all in the head, the illness is real. – mh

Irrational Affection

featured in the poetry forum February 22, 2013  :: 0 comments

Floating in your mind stream, dark waters carry an erratic lofting heart drowning in misery, sunken chivalry, and wolves run the blackened stream bank, no howls or growls, fouled forest trees of grim and cascading heavens bleeding red rains and soaking stains, loss of prevalence, no gentle winds irrelevant, and child born shivering from the cold, fear and illness of unknown benevolence, never to know longevity as the dark stream consumes clarity and births ambiguity, no guilty minds only raggedy quilts, sour milk and hate fits.

editors note:

A dystopic descent into deprivation and despair, derived from a bleak beginning. We can decide otherwise! – mh

Colors

featured in the poetry forum June 13, 2012  :: 0 comments

Paper petals fall from the sky, my eyes receive the red that bleeds the nose open.

Green follows greed blocking yellow sunbeams; ski’s covered in black clouds hiding the white moonbeams.

Blueberry wild, how can I smile, running a black road for many miles; fellow gentlemen dressed in magenta tuxedos, silver lining stitched with golden needles, shoes of gray with bottoms faded away by walk of day.

While the translucent rains stain the tan box house dark brown and now his sign, “I will work for food” cries without sound, pencil laid makings run juvenile wild, street lights blink orange child scorn, street life, soul torn and recession born.

editors note:

If you’re gonna to see this rainbow, gotta take off those rose-colored glasses. – mh