"Air Apparent"

by Jeph Johnson

I was smothering her
and she felt she couldn't leave
For she was so breathtaking
I was unable to breathe!

But she left anyway,
the air sucked from my sails
The diving bell tolls silently
when your oxygen fails
Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Joy, 2016 

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Tired Eyes


So tired of fighting

Don’t feel like writing

Here in the cold of the night

As I sit here and sit

With my head full of shit

That comes pouring straight out of my life

Like a weight full off lead

Would be better of dead

Cuz the cycle would finally end

No more picking up pieces

Blown up by releases

And things that I cannot defend


And I’m tired

Oh I’m tired

Of the way that I’m wired

And the sad state of what I’ve become

That I hide behind smiles

Hand crafted denials

Built to cover the things that I’ve done

But with every day comes

A more vast growing sum

That fills every night full of dread

So I sit here and sit

With my head full of shit

Here at the side of my bed


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New Day


Have you ever come to the end of the day,

and can run the clock back play by play,

and can add it up that supposedly

it was the day it was suppose to be,

but somehow it seems that no time has gone

like a broken record playing on and on,

and you think back through all the things you’ve don

every day every deed bleeding into one,

and you can’t help but feel just a little fear

and hopelessness, cause it isn’t clear

what it’s all about, why you rise each day

fight the fights you fight, play the games you play

do the things you do, “Just what the hell for”

for you’ve done it all a thousand times before,

and could keep on going til the bitter end,

and you suppose you will but what purpose then

does it serve, and so your left with not

but to sigh and deal with what you’ve got,

and keep moving on, for you know what they say…

Tomorrow will be a whole new day


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Standing at the gate of imprisonment


At remains of the bridge, she stood; looking out across the void that once connected Victor Island to the world beyond its borders. What was suppose to be a sanctuary for the living, was found to be a desolate graveyard; a prison that now held her within is walls. Only the midnight wind offered any comfort, as it wrapped its cold, numbing arms around her. On her soft, pale face, it kissed her gently, as if to kiss away the exhaustion and the scars she carried.