Empty Wine Bottles Clink; Devoid Of All Inspiration

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Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration
But that’s not the way you remembered they bled
Choosing the perfect wording for posterity
A trembling shadow of what the poets once said

We once set out to create a fresh universe
But that’s not the way I can any longer think
Falling in love with strange, beautiful women
The source & reason for all the dedicated ink

Our souls entwined in deliberate communion
But that’s not the way that I came to be lost
Specific writings to engrave our cosmic lust
Forever entombed within this highland frost

For Whom The Bell Jar Tolls

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For whom the Bell Jar tolls
Chasing demons down the dark hall
Scratching an itch until it bleeds
Beyond a fantasy that wasn’t there at all

Never letting the imposter take hold
Growing larger in our own impression
Sizing up unquestioned confidence
Surviving in spite of a soul’s transgression

The Grand Rubbish

The grand rubbish
That we display here
Our soul’s bleeding
Harking back to fear
But we push ahead
& slowly expose
Our personal thoughts
Fighting the reality of those

Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay