I wish to retreat,
perhaps to a cabin in the woods,
or, like Iris Murdoch’s hero,
to settle near the sea…

It has been so long
since I have felt true solitude.
I long for that silence
that only it can bring
to sit in stillness
and listen to my own thoughts,
to cook only for myself
and savor each single bite,
untouched by the street’s noise
that might disturb
my quiet comfort.

the pieces of me
are not tender
and eyes darkened
skin so grey
as its been
over a year,
since I left
this prison

I have sores
of sleeping
with
the false
of wishing,

You holler
and wish
for my death
But Jesus
has
other methods
for here....

You
and
pretentiously
Mr Jones
so slowly
and acres
he's full
and unravels
as the tide pulls
and pummeling
is your spirit

of those teases
and the bullies
made you
into one such as him...
the mirror of fearing
of seeing the phantom

But angelic
are silently
tears fallin.....

It began in silence,
The kind that bruises,
The kind that teaches you
How pain can wear a smile.

It wasn't pretty like the movies
It was ugly
Like what they did to me
A cruelty
I would never place
On anyone's skin.

Bt even broken
I gather myself
Rising from what tried to end me
Proofing that pain
Cannot silence light
Still burning in me.

Somewhere far away, deep in the forest,
animals dwell
some hide from predators,
yet more dangerous still
is the rifle of a hungry hunter.

He returns home with prey,
switches his plasma TV
to the Discovery Channel,
slices the animal’s flesh
to feed himself.

He sets the table,
eats,
and at last,
with half-closed, weary eyes,
lights a cigarette
the final act,
before locking the door
and collapsing into sleep.

I could have been,
the extension
of a circus's worker's
not these
overblown
so many papers
of being
a civil
obediently
Accountancy
is a bore of
every morning....
running numbers....
and we seem to
be so excited
when its just
one more
or another,
of sequel of sums
to these *******.....
Its a waste of time.....
of the true events
of life's stimulation
pumping back in veins
and the secret of stations
of exchanging lanes....