me,
a cemetery of dreams,
each one a headstone
weathered by
the acid rain
of reality.
i've tried to forget,
to let the dirt
of time cover them,
but the itch persists –
a nagging sense
that I must exhume
the remnants,
... – by Joe Strickland | 11 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
the bathroom,
she held the evidence
of their failure,
a crimson-stained
wad of toilet paper,
like a tiny,
defeated flag.
the sound of the faucet,
a cold,
unforgiving drizzle,
echoed through her skull.
she thought of all the... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
you are looking for
is already in you,
a city of echoes,
where every street
leads to the same
doorstep of skin.
you already are
everything
you are seeking,
a constellation
of scars and longing
mapping the terrain
of your own...
– by Joe Strickland | 3 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
is my conviction
that there is no way
to arrive at the shore
without surrendering
to the undertow.
peace is the way
the waves crash
in my chest,
a relentless
pounding.
i've tried to chart
a course through
the turbulent
waters of my... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
quiet one
in the corner
of the room
where legends are made,
his fingers
weaving a masterpiece
of melancholy
and devotion.
in the shadow
of giants he found
his own voice,
a gentle breeze
that rustled
the leaves
of love
... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
the depths
of your faith
i find my own apostasy,
a mirror
to your fire,
where doubt
is the only prayer
that sets my soul... – by Joe Strickland | 5 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
once told me
i'm a genius but no one knows it
yet.
the words echoed
in my chest like a bruise,
a slow-rising bloom
of doubt.
he was a published writer,
a scholar,
a know-it-all.
in the mirror
i searched for signs
of... – by Joe Strickland | 17 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
the still creek's
mirrored surface
a tadpole's tail flicks once,
then stillness,
like the way I take you
for granted,
assuming
you'll always be there
like the water's edge
unmoving,
unremarkable,
until the day
you're not
and... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
said:
i was a flower that
bloomed in your darkness,
but I was the one
who withered in your light.
you said:
i was a song
that only you could sing,
but I was the one
who lost my voice
in your... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
and stella,
my daughter's hands
a map of all the ways
i've been lost
in the creases
of their palms,
an outlook
of doubt.
where do i go,
when the roads
i've been given
no longer lead?
and i'm supposed to lead... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
the morning light,
in the evening rain
I'm still searching
for your eyes.
in the crowds,
in the silence
I'm still searching
for your touch.
but it's just a memory now.
fading like the light
at nightfall.
I'm left with... – by Joe Strickland | 3 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
the town where i was born
summer air still sweet
with the scent of blooming
magnolia trees and promise
my grandmother's hands
used to hold mine
tight as a prayer
as we walked to the creek
where fish swam lazy
circles in the shallows
... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
i even know
how to be without
the weight of the world
crushing my chest?
has it been so long
since i felt a moment's peace
that i've forgotten
what it's like to... – by Joe Strickland | 7 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
hooded men,
their faces
shrouded
in the very darkness
they sought to
impose.
hours before,
voices were singing
and hands were beating
out a rhythm
on the worn wooden
pews
of a church
that dared to dream
of freedom,
of... – by Joe Strickland | 9 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
hands,
like worn maps
folding into mine,
a profile of scars
where our stories cross.
in the creases of your palms
i find the shape of my own,
a followed landscape
of all the ways i've been
broken and remade.
your eyes,
like two... – by Joe Strickland | 13 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
gods,
no masters,
no mystics,
no myths,
just the stench
of last night's liquor
on my breath
as I stumble
through my jobs
concrete insanity.
no angels,
no demons,
no spirits,
no saints,
just the hollow echo
of my footsteps
... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
thought i had her
where i wanted her,
but it was she who had me
on a leash of false hope,
a velvet noose
tightening with each smile.
she'd whisper sweet nothings
in my ear,
while her eyes laughed
at my expense.
i was a puppet
on strings... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
he's stuck
in the shallows
of his own mind,
afraid to dive
into the depths
of her eyes
where the world's weight
presses upon
his chest.
an atlas complex,
carrying the globe's
grief,
he thinks too much,
a vortex
of what-ifs,
... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
life laid down like a
gauntlet and they call him
idealistic ignorant,
as if the weight of his
conviction was a flaw.
but what if the majority
stayed silent and still
long enough to hear
the whispers of their own
hearts beating in time... – by Joe Strickland | 12 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
world's a dumpster fire
and we're all just
standing around
fanning the flames
my guru says
the material world
is a prison
we're just
trying to escape
but it's hard
when the bars
are made of
smartphones
and social media
and the... – by Joe Strickland | 8 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
mother's eyes
a roulette wheel,
spinning with each cruel joke.
I learned to wear a smile like
a bruise that won't cure.
in the mirror a
stranger's face,
a painted-on grin that cracks
at the edges where the truth
seeps in like a slow... – by Joe Strickland | 5 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
say I've done a lot,
my name etched on diplomas
and resumes like a promise,
kept but still I wake
with the taste of unfinished
business on my tongue.
I guess I've done a lot
the faces of loved ones
blurring like a watercolor
in the... – by Joe Strickland | 2 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
you're well liked everyone
wants a piece of you
and I don't mean
the way they glance
at your body in a room
no it's not that kind
of hunger they're after
something more
intangible a slice
of your attention
a shred of your time
a... – by Joe Strickland | 5 Views added 6 months ago
| Rating
|
every breath, an ache,
dukkha's whisper, a slow fire
that consumes the heart
longing for what's lost, or yet
to be, in this fleeting form.
in the depths of craving's sea
a hunger that cannot be fed,
roots of pain take hold
like a weed... – by Joe Strickland | 22 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
for much my love of happy heart
fragments of sunlight stuck in my teeth
like a lover's fingers tracing my jaw
world paparazzi my love green
the way a bruise blooms on tender skin
exposing the tenderest parts of me
for warm sun
... – by Joe Strickland | 11 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
city's din,
a racket
of whispers
in my ear,
each footstep
a reverberation
of all the words
I've never spoken,
words I should have spoken.
fear of echoes
that haunt me
in the hollow
of my chest
where shadows of loved ones
... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
smell of wet earth
rises like a question
in the dry air.
no one remembers
the sound of rain
on pavement
last week,
or was it last month?
the way it seeped
into the cracks
of the sidewalk
and disappeared
leaving only
this faint scent... – by Joe Strickland | 4 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
brain a slaughterhouse
where thoughts are butchered
daily.
serotonin the executioner,
swinging its axe
through the meat of my mind.
a fragile ecosystem,
where neurons are the prey,
and depression the predator,
lurking in every shadow
... – by Joe Strickland | 4 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
actions are my only true belongings.
the rest is just clutter,
accumulated dust
on the shelves of my spirit.
my actions are my only true belongings,
the only things that live
when the world strips me bare,
and i'm left with nothing but... – by Joe Strickland | 7 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
we've forgotten the curve of the earth
in the small of our backs
where the spine meets the skin
and the skin meets the air
how to walk without leaving
a footprint of longing
on the skin of the earth
as if our feet were mouths
drinking from... – by Joe Strickland | 6 Views added 7 months ago
| Rating
|
