I have started a podcast. I’ve done this primarily because I think my poetry has more life when I speak than when it’s sitting latent on the page. As such, most forthcoming poems will come with a link to my podcast where I put myself on the line and read them with as much emotion as I can muster. Ho boy! Hope you like it. Here’s “It’s Me”.

Podcast Link: Download this episode (right click and save)

 

It came at me quick

It came at me fast

“Oh dear God, please understand

I can’t possibly last”

 

Red drips fell

From my cheek to my chin

I collapsed to the dust

Drowning in my own sin

 

I could not speak

Could not even cry

Faded sheets and false friends

Had left me to die

 

The blood on my hands

The tear in my skirt

They wrapped me up softly

Led me low to the dirt

 

I crumpled in deep

To my cold lonely friend

Prickled hugs, worn out kisses

A life playing pretend

 

Covered in scratched canvas

I gave it all in

I closed my eyes tight

Gave my body its last wind

 

Slower and deeper

Farther I sank

Every dream I had clung to

Washed up on the bank

 

My body lay empty

An old used up rag

A log with no fire

A toy with no tag

 

Hours later

Or minutes, or more

I still had not left

I still clutched the floor

 

Something awoke

Or within me sparked

It started a flame

It shattered the dark

 

Something so silent

From the grave rose

Rust and dents

Brown paper and snow

 

It wasn’t the Christ

It wasn’t the free

It was all the dead, lost,

Rejected parts of me

 

They stood and they danced

Made hay in the rain

They took the second chance

To soak in their blame

 

They said it’s okay

They said it’s all right

To give up the day

To seek out the night

 

To wallow in filth

To tear to the core

To break and to bleed

Lay naked on the shore

 

To put on a show

To dress up in silk

To shower in sunshine

And honey and milk

 

Then step into garbage

And rip it in two

Swim in the mud

Till I’m raw and nude

 

Then look at myself

All tattered and rent

A wretched cantankerous mess

Half broken, half bent

 

And see something real

Bruised, black and green

It’s ugly, it’s corrupt, it’s fucked up

But it’s me