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Archive for September, 2016

Words, it bears remembering

Are simply acoustics, sounds

And breath warmed by the body

Mixed till sweet, sour, bitter or pungent

They cannot break your skin,

Choke air from lungs, pierce organs,

Burst arteries or sever limbs

Yet somehow they tear through

Eardrums, towards skull, seeking 

Deepest abscesses of minds

Darkest corners of souls

Rooting out the weakest spots

Ravaging them like carnivores

Eating away at the spirit

Till your heart shrinks, 

collapsing Into itself, 

your sense of being shatters

And you kneel, trying to gather up

The shards of who you used to be

Squeezing ragged edges together, 

cutting yourself on the sharp points

Of memory, insecurity and failure

Till the cracks finally stick

And you can pretend you are whole again

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An Ode to The Old House

The lobby smells of cream, that’s the only way I can describe it. It’s a nice comforting scent that lingers in the entrance area – not too strong not too weak – the baby bear of smells. I stand in the room surveying the space around me carefully.

There is a long hallway of an entrance with a washroom on the left hand side. If I stand facing the entrance there are a series of closets on my right, a balcony on my left and an arguably excessively large wooden panel in front of me, presumably for mounting the mini home theatre system someone has decided I will undoubtedly own.  (more…)

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