Poem-a-Day

Masquerade

Never ending expansion Something everywhere you look Not a single vacant corner Nor a empty nook Filling the void One purchase at a time Momentary satisfaction Props for the facade But the emptiness Ever present Just as truth and mistrust Always linger Betrayal and lying The fabric with which you’ve woven The brilliant tapestry Shrouds

In a word ~ RUN

You frolicked gaily at the masquerade Swooned like a schoolgirl at a hit parade Reaching and conversing throughout the day Thinking to yourself you can do this thing Clueless to what you’re setting yourself up for A genius IQ does not smart this one make It makes him cunning and wickedly dangerous Numerous casualties left

ignis fatuus

Enveloped in a cocoon Safe in a protective crowd Intent in this technique Forever shielding himself Lost in glorified illusion To keep from coming apart His ugly unknown truth Self-serving lies A knife looming Forever in darkness Threatening to shred Threadbare foundation Alone in the corner When everyone has gone Haunted by echoes Broken wailing

Crown of Age

With old patterns faltering In the wake of time Serving him less and less Desperation creeps Then slowly sets in Searching for something Real to cling to In a world of illusion And cheap parlor tricks Of which he created And has always dwelled Better to be An imaginary somebody Than a real nobody His

TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCE

It never ceases to amaze me To what lengths people will go To appease their own ego To maintain the façade Making themselves And their lives Appear more gradiouse Than they actually are How many would rather Live a life built on lies Rather than face And admit their own truth Its only when we

In Due Time

Already past the point of redemption, he sent an email of apology to all his investors, seeking forgiveness; and while his ego tempted him to wait for that first rely, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d given the staff the weekend off and spent the next hour in silence, wandering the halls

Bottom Rung

He could have taken her to the Grande Palace Resort, but chose a seedy hotel on the waterfront, within walking distance of the Pier; for it lent an air of noir to the affair, that mixed well with her fatalistic attitude of their coupling. Though he hated when she spoke in “after the fact” tense,

Richard II

They don’t all float down here, as his mantra would have you believe. Some wrap themselves intentionally, in the dispirited darkness; fighting natures buoyancy that would raise them toward the light. He thrived on being the outcast, for he knew not how to fit; emitted false illusion, so as to sway opinion and perceptions. But