Winter Knows (the End of a Summer Love)

Their heart is now cold,
Icicle pointed at his.
His blood is warm;
Now coloring snow.

Their winter plays with
A different snowman.

Clock Work

Ten past ten
The clock on display
Sits still
Waits until
It can do the splits
Take it home

A quarter past nine
A stretch in the morning
Makes way for the night

Adult life sucks.
When you’d have the strength
to fight wrongdoers,
to keep your stance,
you’re just too busy
dealing with your traumas,
battling your demons,
feeling like the one to blame‒
every other day.
Any other day I’d write a wonder.
Not today.
—

There’s no use…
misused.
I could have used
a little help.
—

At times,
I can’t help but cry.
What could help but try?
—

A lot more to say;
This isn’t where I end‒
only where discretion starts.
—

Tactile Redemption

Out of the blue
The now-greyest skies
Torrential rain comes
And turns me outward

Negatives

Gaslit mind, mine is blind.
Sunlit eyelids, covered eyes.
Afterimage, booby prize.

It couldn’t be any different,
Out of sight, out of mind.
A snap of a finger (hypnotic drive).
Brainstorming impulse; cloudy eyes.

While karma’s a bitch,
trauma is its son.
Creativity is a burden;
It might as well die.

All the photos I refused to take,
All the group photos I was left out of,
Aren’t making it any better;
The negatives neither.

You are here.
Are you with me?
Then let go of me.

I’m a verse —
averse to closed relationships.
Go meet new verses.
Read.

Don’t Mind It, I’m Out Of My Mind

Cul-de-sac

It is a no-go
Going on that road
Nonstop
No, stop

Don’t go

I’m on a dead-end street
That cul-de-sac, you’d come and leave
Won’t you come another time
You would stay a little longer

Radio on too loud
Rain pouring down
Phone calls hanging up
Rubber burning out

No one turns around

As X so Y

I can’t remember for the life of me
How the life before
This one went.
Rumor has it that as before so after.
Legends say it, “as above so below.”
Here I stand, in middle ground.

I won’t be surprised
If in what’s left, in some afterlife
I can’t remember what the death of me was;
How life used to be.

Great point to be—between rumors and legends; pre-existence and death.

On the Tracks

I passed along some lyrics to the AI (suno.com), and thought I’d share what came out of that.
They weren’t gathering dust — I kept coming back to them.
They carry specific harmonies and melodies the AI just wouldn’t replicate.
I wanted to see if it could capture my vision.
It can’t. Not yet.
But I embraced that — and veered off course completely, just for the fun of it.

Yet, here are two songs that came out better than expected.

To start off, think of a dark pop and cinematic trap ballad blend, featuring female vocals. Emotionally intense, hushed in the verses, powerful in the chorus.
The tempo is slow to mid, with a smoky, layered production — sparse rhythms in the verses, explosive hits and vocal harmonies in the chorus.
The overall theme: karmic revenge through intimacy.

Now, listen to Song A:

For a B version, listen to it here:

https://suno.com/s/dlsh4bfZ3fPVip1e

And, to song B, a trap, swing folk, blend (well, kinda):

For a B version, https://suno.com/s/Os5VzFpOKtHLSF2G

Now this has a widget for my music, that I’ll keep tweaking and updating. Stay tuned.

Residual “I”

Left to the measure of time,
Solipsistic minds.
Mean time.
Countless selves
cease to exist.

Yet, there remains the “I”

The “I” there is not me.
Amen, so be it.

Aight, I’ve gone a bit overboard on this one.

Category: poetry