Dead Weight In Recoil


I hate who I am

but I love what I could be


Pain and joy coincide

steering clear of

long bonds

and aging conflicts alike,

driving wildly free


Feeling the life I could've built by

deeply hugging a telephone screen

on a hermit's couch

in anguished mental attire

entirely unseen I scream 


Look at me!

Mr. Silver (at best) Trophy!


..more like Mr. Atrophy

obeying your indifferent signs 

you post along the street

in daylight

knowing I'm a man of the night

so you know we'll never reconvene

or even meet 



so I step away

'by choice'

then decay 

in the soil below your feet 

I'm dead weight

in recoil

as you leave

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Cascade's picture

I find it simply amazing how

I find it simply amazing how a rock the size of the earth can float as light as air in a big dark universe. Be good to yourself, deepblue.

allets's picture

U R Not Dead Weight

U R A poet...well maybe half dead weight, but that is not my point... Peace and Happy Holidays from one quarter almost dead weight to another. :D



deepblue's picture

❤ thank you, take care 

❤ thank you, take care 

allets's picture

Hearts In The Mail


The season is upon the land

of the freedom seeking, there

are lists to finalize that say

do me now.


A heart appears in the mail

and it is not even St. Valentine's



Snow is expected to see

us soon, plows to move great

weights of frozen clouds. Yet,

hearts melt snow and give

a moment meaning when it

is received from the void

called poet.








deepblue's picture

This is beautiful, by the

This is beautiful, by the way! Thank you so much