The Circles

Posted: March 30, 2014 in Poetry


Convalesced with the best
can see my footprints
across the Margate Sands

Somehow living
bearing witness
to Eliot’s Waste Land

I/ve known

I now believe

Prayers for the dying

American beauty

Shades of former self
never fail to form

Dreaming dead dreams
despondent desperation
my own house of pain

We/re all in denial

We/re all the same

We know we/re wicked

We reside right by
death the inspiration

We kill our-self
not for ourselves
for we are filthy

On the wrong side

Find spirituality
only traverse
through means of verse

Descend into the limbo
my whole life rehearsed

Nothing funny
in divine comedy

The comfort of being sad

Rambling insanity

Schooled by sins
the absence of dads

Circling seven times
the seventh circle

With Plath

Saw Cobain

Somewhere else souls
lost in this abyss

T.S. said he would
show me fear in a handful of Jesus
so I forsook the God
in which they trust
before I nodded
down through to
number nine

Number nine

Number Nine…

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