Adonael

Dear G___ Corporation, Thank you for your recent correspondence regarding my application for the position of instructor. It is after careful consideration that I have decided against pursuing my application with you any further. I would like to thank you for your continued interest, but I feel that my experience and qualifications are more suitably used elsewhere. I guess I'm just not in the right place at this particular point in my life and I need some time to think. It will be good for us to have some time apart, branch out and explore our options. It's not you; it's me. You can do better. We should see other people. We're just not going

The red sun folds in half over the sea, Bold. Everything I want to be, How I want to be seen. I'll be a lantern, A shogun, Mr Gilgamesh. I'll try to be tidiness in all my mess. I can keep my calm; I can take a guess. I'll be the ocean, The ship, The island bay Nerves running through me Like waves, tidal spray. Just give me time. Just give me air. I can work it out; I can take a guess. The interview approaches. Breathe. I can work it out. I can take a guess.

I could hear my parents arguing from the lawn. Fighting fork with fork, they were swordsman, weighing the credits of ketchup against brown Like politics depended on it. Click. The door sways apart like parting hands, Ivory cogs gristle, turn and creak. The smell of thyme looks at me with wispy eyes Like candles; I was the firefly floating in Like they do in those cartoons; six plates carted off to the table. What's cooking? No idea; Looks kind of green, I say; Family glares shoot me down. Food glides in on a bed of white mist Like steamboats While rowdy voices bartered with space, The best plates, A place in time people called 'house' To

I wonder, what drove you to pluck a good deed from the air as if it grew on a cherry tree? To build faith up like a bell tower in the Lego set that is Earth. I wonder... You smiled, but I glimpsed the antonym in the eyes you'd worn; I saw fresh divorce, a deceased daughter In the wing mirrors of your car. They smile at you from heaven. I hope You know that. I hope it helps you sleep at night. If I could've bought another moment, I'd wonder some, But I was just a moment in a world of a million more.

Splat!

Summer peaks: the days are forever, Verdant virtue in shrubbery gleams, The white, dotted spotlights recharge my sleeping self. I can't breathe without happiness. Snow may deepen, but sun is dying Ultraviolet waves of brightness exposes ulterior shadows lurking. No. I can't breathe without happiness. The deal maker leaves; I'm sane The lamp is packed away for now. The open window greets my guardian I can't breathe without happiness. My protector spills blood by horizon Day by day, it's time is short. I don't know how I'll manage this Christmas. I can't breathe without my happiness. The laughter underlines my cries for help The shadows le

How many times will I try to wake up? I won't lose count but it'll still be a lot. 68 times by count, but who's counting? Me. I am. My mind spends the hour double-checking. This represents the Eschew Minds out there With off-tangent steps for thoughts, In directions endless, perpetual and concrete; Stone so stubborn, it cannot be obselete and my cereal bowl is three quarters full and I can't leave the house in less than ten steps and I can't stop using the word and at the start and the rhymes are consistent; OCD takes charge. Sometimes, the sun is in the wrong place I wake up convinced Thursday grins like Tuesday No leaving the house until

     Dear readers,     I hope this message finds you before my success. A part of me hopes that I never achieve it, so that it still may find you in the same way. That way it will come with uncertainty and promise; warmth and the cold nights without money for a roof over my head; fame and the fall shortly after.     First off, I want to say that you are right. This makes it all the more important that you don’t fall over the lies you tell yourself when you start to doubt. You have to drown them out, make them sounds similar to voices you hear while you’re underwater.     You can achieve this anyway you know how: writing, pai

It’s given, not taken, whether we rise or fall From mouths of writers, publishers; after all I want to write: it’s my calling. To create that novel under the swelling sun Where white amber gold always comes. The problem is I’m allergic to mornings. Listen. Morning isn’t my time I say, convinced But that’s not for your benefit I’ll admit. I want to write: it’s my calling. Then raging sphere; it centre skies Afternoon floats and ponders by The problem is I’m allergic to mornings. Poems of denial because at my core I’m a dreamboat of dreams; nothing more I want to write: it’s my cal