Rage poem

What started as a small ember or glow from distant past now transforms into something felt as a growing internal fire within, clouds the judgement and vision much like how black, carbon, soot-like smoke from large chimneys engulfs things and people below or around it,

blackens judgement and vision like a pass through a dark, tight tunnel or a stroll through a street with broken streetlamps or even rehearsing the Dark Ages,

growing larger in height and intensity with every intangible, negative thought chucked casually and carelessly into the barbecue grill fireplace, so much so that this inferno boils the wine, rapidly inflates/deflates the pink, rubbery balloons,overturns tents and garden tables/ chairs on a windy day, all to create a personal Pandemonium.


Unrequited poem

Glancing at a photo or the mere mention of you reminds me of preconceived should and could have beens,

possibilities and probabilities all coalescing into that one single moment of confirmation that brings forth a sense of clarity from the myriad, confusing possibilities and uncertainty,

while simultaneously gifting a lasting taste,

much like the aftertaste of a bitter drink or the phantasmal linger of a lost limb or perhaps the constant reminder of a scar tissue in a conspicuous place while looking at a self-reflection casually or in haste.

A bitter pill to take despite the awareness and knowledge that it was for the best,

better to not mull too long over such things lest I am dragged to a dark, bottomless pit.


Oblivion game poem

“It is only by fate
that any life ends,
and only by chance
that is mine…
not yours.”