Rebuke

•August 24, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Dip your toes,

in the water;

 

cool brushes,

glacial case,

 

in a pattern,

like a canvas,

 

crossed

 

you hold on

to everything

 

you love, but

battle inside

 

with darkness

unbound; it’s

 

truth ever-last,

the moment

 

in time, when

cast iron, and

 

chains square

off, but human

 

beings prove,

life is more

 

than loneliness;

castigate, and

 

tear the fabric

of time; erupt.

All Poetry Books Just 99 Cents!

•August 13, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Thanks to those who have already picked up one of my poetry chapbooks.

If you have not, please follow this link to grab one for yourself: https://www.amazon.com/Shawn-Young/e/B01D03OYZU

Thank you! Thanks for reading!

New Poetry Chapbook

•July 26, 2016 • Leave a Comment

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01IA6FBYA

chapbook 5 -- love

Other works available here: http://www.amazon.com/Shawn-Young/e/B01D03OYZU

Spider Spit

•July 25, 2016 • 3 Comments

Tears drip, stinging bees,
rusted legs, and a sad
smell stuck to the bottom
of a sunken boat,

cantankerous
men strike billows of
blood, buckets and mud,
and she waits alongside
a yellow wall, tinged in
harpsichords, musty and
encyclopedic — aloft,
singing brazenly, because

tomorrow is a muse, and

we are nothing but a
chorus of bad lines and
drunken nights, sad yet
sick, and singed by light,
even though much

can be said about skin
memory, never do we dare,
unless we peach kiss a
burrowing rat, send
it sailing around the earth,
gasping for air like mold,
wrapped inside velvet
paper, indelible and sweet,
a song for the ages, but,

like Brautigan said:

It’s so nice
to wake up in the morning
all alone
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don’t love them
any more.

 

Click here for more.

Field of Stones

•July 21, 2016 • 1 Comment

Your soul is beauty, my friend,

even if I never see you again,

 

I will carry your memory with

me, and we’ll share time and

 

fates like it was meant to be.

On a bike, that day, mid-March,

 

a bird swept your hat, and cold

air stole your breath; upon a

 

wing, you reeled, and forgot

about her face, and smiled for

 

the camera, swept inside a sea

of green, then I cried for eras,

 

of long gone hearts, and suicide

notes drawn up in blood, a

 

scattered head, lain atop a silken

pillow, and guilt that wins a

 

writing contest. So even if our math

is bad, I will always see you there,

 

in the reflections of coffee, soothing

and dark, like that day in March,

 

a decade long past, and we’ll worry

no more, and I’ll still remain,

 

always your friend, in the end,

as it was, and the future’s calling,

 

a heart in a cot, two ways until

relapse, sanctified as past is repose.

 

For more of my poetry, check out my poetry chapbooks on Amazon.

The Autumn Springs

•July 18, 2016 • 7 Comments

In summer, I want to radiate. I want to stand in closure of my wrongs, waving at them from a distance. I want to take the hand of my loves and dance, looking for them all in my tears, in the skies, my heart full, my chances taken, my satisfaction filled. Eyes for eyes. All things discovered.

A joyful glass casket.

A basket of fish.

In winter, I want to regret. I want to fall deep into my bed, hard, hardly feeling. I want to see the face of the cosmos shoot past me in my cold repose as I de-exist. I want my lament for life’s loss to motivate me to find them. I seek them out and rediscover them.

My sadness as motivator.

To enjoy them again.

Glint for glint; we will waltz to the music of rejoining, holding ourselves close. We will know, but nothing will be lost.

 

Originally published in the Antioch Voice, September, 2015.

If you like my work, check out my new love-themed chapbook, found here on Amazon.

At Dawn, I Am I

•July 13, 2016 • 3 Comments

In a dream, I died.

 

Sitting in quiet

repose, I felt a wash

of joy release me,

absolve every essence,

erase me and send

me away.

 

One cool morning,

a breeze swept me

under a grass rug,

acquiescing to the

worms and bugs,

I rejoined.

 

In a dream, I lied.

 

I attended the party,

smiling as required,

though I felt alone,

a crowded room

became a melting

pot.

 

I thought of you

walking, a human

like us, shuffling

among the towering

trees, reaching,

grasping.

 

In a dream, I cried.

 

Your maverick ways,

cobbling together a

kite, a mounting

suspicion, freezing

cold and shuttered;

banal.

 

In a prescient poem

you angered everyone,

and for a lost second

your words recovered

and recanted; shamefully

dour.

 

In a dream, I glide.

 

Upon the water deep,

a fish nibbles my feet,

and I am left with your

ghost, a tattered dress,

a fable of my youth;

ignominy.

 

♫ Taste the moment,

it’s possibly the last,

pushing your heart

and numbing your past,

timbre and movement,

a loss to compare,

in the lights ever passing,

I won’t be there. ♫

 

In a dream, I am I.

 

For those interested, here’s a link to my latest book on Amazon, a chapbook full of “love” poems.

 
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