Immaculate Conception (Poem) #WritePhoto

Mountains of Zion
So full of grace
The Lord is with thee

Blessed art thou
In the last days of Rome

For you are the light that shines through the cold

Blessed is your chalice
The cup of your blood

The wine of salvation
The womb of your throne

The dawn of your glory
Like the crimson at dusk

Night of Day (Poem) #WritePhoto

Who can withstand the night of day?
As the clouds roll in
And the laughter fades away

The warmth of the sun
A distant memory

Fog of the mind
Chains of lethargy

Pray for salvation
An inkling of light

Behold
God is mercy

She Sees in the Dark (Poem)

She sees in the dark
like a bat out of hell

An echo in the park
She preys like a spell

The glow of the moon
is no match for her shadow

Her cold, bleeding heart sheds more light than the towns

That she stalks
And she mourns
And she summons to battle

Birdbrain City (Poem)

Look at all the birds
Every shape, color, size

Scratching at the surface
Pecking at the lies

Adorning the walls with excrement
Every day is a holiday

Every day is the same old story
The plot thickens
But none will sway

Where have all the flowers gone?
Where are all the vines?

Where are all the pretty birds?
Where are all the signs?

The Morning Star (Poem) #WritePhoto

The following badass poem was inspired by Sue Vincent’s daily photo prompt:

The crow caws in the early morning
then smashes into my window
as I wipe the sleep crusted tears from my eyes

What a wonderful sight to see
as I awake to a hopeful new day

The blood of the morning star
dripping down my window pane

Taunting me to share in his glory

Tweet tweet tweet
Says the morning star

I have so many ways to distract you from your path

Pipe Dreams (Poem)

The wars of the world never heal
Never die
Hail to the throne
Glory to the kill

The games of the thrones don’t save
Only lie
Beckon to the call
Buy your wasted time

Dreams
Of the famous
And the riches
And the pride
Of the mansions
And the pensions
Picket fences
Little dogs

Maniac (Poem)

How can someone who burns so hot be so cold?
How can something that feels so right be so wrong?

It’s like I’m lost in space
And I can’t go home

The further I drift
The hotter I burn

The colder it gets
The more I yearn

For something less painful than the stake in my back

I can’t relax
I can’t look at myself

Rare Form (Poem)

I’m in rare form
My form is so rare
that no lie is too great to embrace my warfare

No fire can make dust of the bombs that I drop
And no thief in the night can take swift with my plot

I’m a renegade
I give swords to your slaves

Chop it up before dawn
then give bones to your graves

I’m a hurricane
I blow hard through the chill

Get it Done (Poem)

I’ll do it when I wanna do it
I’ll do it when I’m done

I’ll do it when I’m sick and tired
I’ll do it when it’s done

I’ll do it when I’m all burnt out
And my legs are tired

And taking that first step feels like a marathon
without breakfast or a bottle of water

I’ll do it tomorrow
I’ll do it the next day

The Hardest Step (Poem)

The disease of isolation
Self-pity and self-harm
Anger and resentment
Selfish lies and selfish wants

It’s baffling
So obscure
Cunning and hard

It’s your own personal Satan pounding at your door

It’s the first place you run to when you want to hide
And the last place that gets you where you want to go

It gives you everything you want
But nothing that you need