words

WORDS

from fonts imbued
lavender fumes
carries across
into windows lacking frost
heat radiates past flocks
words written
prepared ignite
burning in the summers light

whispers flicker
from lips lost
in an echos ghost

wisps of flowers hang
above heads
kindles frosted
in hundred Fahrenheit

eyes flicker in lines
bolded to block
reading fine
gold beyond windows
paling sights
red bright

words
a written song
commemorate
all that unsung.

6/24/22 - Andy McRae

Where Depth has no Master

Where Depth has no Master 

lost in a pit, my eyes weary, the way black 
my heart weak, thoughts bleak, 
sunk into a disaster, where depth has no master 
slick grey stone sides, dives unfold, 
echoes rolled, this man folded over, 
one stumble to find out, a bottomless mine 
or is it just a hole, driven into the chest 
part way at best. 

12/23/21 – Andy McRae

Flowerbeds

Flowerbeds

Love permissible
For a man so dismissible
Short stares
Leaving flowerbeds bare
My heart, how do I dare
Bare forth more than I can hold
In my hand, my love grows cold
A waiting for that hour
When I am told,
I am allowed to flower
My love can grow
No longer be locked
In ice and snow

11/14/21 – Andy McRae

Morphing Words

Morphing Words

Writing is not going as easily,
The ideas are not coming as fast,
The rhythm of my words is broken
Segmented by how I changed
The turn I took in life. 

My words are different
From before. 

After every turn in the road,
My being morphs
And with it my words change. 

I am unsure if I like these changes.
Having just grown accustomed to
My words and how to use them.
Now I have these new ones,
This new dialect
It feels like I don't even know
how to speak my own language any more. 

Where do I go from here
When my language had broken down
And I struggle to write like I used to. 

Is all but surrendered
To my failure to reproduce the past
Has this doomed me to
Utter misery? 

Or is this a pivotal moment in my existence
An in between written words
When nothing makes sense but soon
My words will flow better than they ever once did. 

Maybe.
Or maybe I just haven't written in a while
And was out of practice.

2/23/21 – Andy McRae