🚪

If your past knocks,
don’t answer.

It’s not here to talk

it’s here to wreck
what took you years
to rebuild.

Let it knock.
Let it wait.
Let it rot.

Just don’t forget:
some doors
are better sealed
forever.

Sneak, tell-tale,
Big mouth, blabber-mouth;
Rumour monger, scandalmonger,
Scaremonger.
Sneak, snitch,
Supergrass stool pigeon;
always dobbing someone in.
Busy as a nailer,
Narrowing your eyes;
Squinting all the while, in sociopathic style,
To avoid accountability, idling along like Burlington Bertie.
With the drama of all your relationships,
He said, She said,
Finger pointing, drama triangles.

The sun sets over the horizon,

Painting the sky with fiery hues;

Clouds look like cotton candy.

Waves ebb and flow upon the pebbled shore, creating a soothing melody,

The sea breeze is gentle and refreshing.

Stars begin to shine, sparkling up the darkening hours,

Bringing a sense of peace and wonder.

Sitting in the kitchen, doing a bit of stitching,
How do we know what we know;
How do we know, what we do not know.
Do they remember, or even try to recall,
Projecting their unwanted parts onto their host;
Corresponding with their ambivalent attitudes,
Stirring the emotional ***.
Indomitable minds in turmoil,
Flinging words around, to hit a guilty vein;
Frightened on the spot, leading to a senseless fight.
Tipping the scales of love to hate,
They swagger away, on their empty boastings;
The host lays grieving over the kitchen table.
Exiled from delight,
Coiled in shells of sorrow;
Their discarded heart bleeds out, the colour of blood on a butcher's block.

Sitting by the window,
Remnants of Springtime's past;
Flash by on the call of the Songbird.
Syllabic diversity, in temporal regularity,
Repetitive, and transformative patterns;
Dance on the waves of the air.