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The Trinity and Me
First They took my father, and then consumed my mother Without the slightest hesitance, They came and took another My sister left in tender years, They left me naught but pouring tears We’re...
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Opposite Sides of the Same Pain
A Sunni mother silently watches: overhead, a gathering of scavenging ravens paints the dusky sky above the broken bodies of her three children. Bewilderment mixed with horror and beauty, accented by...
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The Skirt
You laid your plaited skirt on the foot of my bed, neatly folded as though in doing so you could somehow retain your virtue. In the midst of our fleshy thrashings, I kicked it to the floor, and...
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We Are Gods
We are gods treading boldly upon a blue-green marble beneath a sprinkle of stars, tossed upon a blue-black canvas. We blow creation, like a kiss, from open palms, fingers spread like the wings of a...
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Armageddon of Faith
When the Angel of Death extends his wing And Heavenly stars fall into their black holes; And Angels no longer sing; When Mountains to dust once more descend And the Stain of Original Sin eviscerates...
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The Green Viper
I walked into the dark forest, my stomach gurgling fear. Pushing it down into my gut I entered a grove of mangoes devoid of fruit and intensely tangled, like the ribbons of my life. I saw there a...
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We Are the Reason
There is a reason birds don’t fly here anymore. The skies are filled with fear and lamenting, and their wings are covered in blood and ash – bones falling from the sky. The deer no longer nurses her...
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Half-Measures
I watch in morbid fascination the quickening pulse of the vein on the soft underside of my forearm; each throbbing beat a silent protest for the living of life, the loss of love, the failure of faith...
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The Night She Called
I was so drunk the night she called I thought the phone ringing was a song in my brain - I hummed along and laughed that empty laugh that is found at the bottom of well drunk bottles. Later, she...
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A Godly Silence
I speak to God in silent phrase And offer up my heartfelt praise Yet silence is His voice to me He shows no earthly empathy My prayers are but a silent wind And I a storm that’s lost within A body...
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My Turn From Heaven
My ashes are to dust betrothed, my bones ‘neath lily and the rose. My soul, which hath no penitence, shall ne’er see heaven’s countenance! While God doth cry on bended knee, “Who brought this vile...
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Irises
I watch from my folding chair, the low autumn sun measuring out the remains of the day. She, genuflecting in the garden, places four purple seedlings into the dark damp earth, pushing each with a jab...
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Where I Live
How temperamental is the man in me who misses you but will not call this because I find the thought of romance more alluring than actually opening myself to you? I drink to burn the voices in my belly...
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Beneath These Stairs
http://alastairsphotofiction.wordpress.com/2013/06/16/photo-fiction-sunday-june-16th-2013/ photo by Alastair These are the back alleys where destitute meets despair and this is my journey. The stairs...
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Cowardly Run
”Contemplation” by Unknown Artist Footsteps echo across silent floors Lightly I stumble against bolted doors I can no longer see for the daylight blinds Thoughts become jumbled; confused is the mind...
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Fallen Angel
He writes for a fallen angel but the rhymes don’t appear, not in words, but in stilted verse, in outpourings of watered down love. She spreads her wings and hunts the night. What the poet will not...
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A Midnight Violation
I preface this poem with an apology should it provoke any memories in my dear readers of similar abuse. It is never my intention to cause pain. On the contrary, I offer my love and compassion, and...
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The Trinity and Me
First they took my father, then consumed my mother - Without the slightest hesitance They came and took another My sister left in tender years They left me naught but pouring tears We’re promised...
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Lights
You have always stood beneath a dazzling array of bright colors Brilliant, and brave, and blinding Your light provided bright reflections and lit the stage upon which you danced careless, joyful, and...
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Poets and Prostitutes
He was a lover of street prostitutes; not the sable-wrapped uptown girls bathed in Chanel No.5 and punishing Daddy by selling their tight-toned wares retail, but rather those wholesale working-class...
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