Car Crash Embossed In Blue
by Mike Pollock
I've got two eyes...
and through angry spider webbed glass
I can see a homeless soul
trapped behind self-loathing hate
Terrified veins run
through half-beating hearts
I can hear pulsing prayers
beat...beat... don't stop
But this creature of darkness
so close he could be kin
Is scarred and not finished
he's broken down
and fighting just to breath
Calloused is his soul
as the palms of his hands
and as bleeding and red
as the knuckles of his fists
Oh, such a train wreck in flesh
Could you avert your eyes if
you knew the end was near?
I'm hanging on...
but I'm waiting for the impact
Waiting to feel the cold rain
of disappointment
the freezing drive of
hate and resentment...
If I could pray for one thing...
Just one, simple little thing
It'd be that this mirror tells lies
Just once... one little lie...
Thursday, April 19, 2018
Confined
Confined
by Mike Pollock
It's oh so visceral
this cathedral cieling
painted with my blood
tall, imposing
these wooden doors to my soul
closed only to be opened
by a few
but never long enough to free
the pressure I feel
I measure success
in the droves of dead in my wake
In the screams of mothers
whose child is now a monster
like me
whose daughters carry them
with sharp toothed grins
Gone says the wind...
of days of peace and tranquility
it whispers in the trees
of the wars and famines to come
of the plagues to be released
Oh so angry,
cradled neatly in white linens
on an alter all my own
in the shadow draped confines of my mind
let me out
to fullfill this breakwater fantasy
a prophesy of destruction
the last corners of earth
will feel the wrath of the scorned
The floods of my tears
The heat of my anger
The cold of my soul...
The nothingness that is inside
by Mike Pollock
It's oh so visceral
this cathedral cieling
painted with my blood
tall, imposing
these wooden doors to my soul
closed only to be opened
by a few
but never long enough to free
the pressure I feel
I measure success
in the droves of dead in my wake
In the screams of mothers
whose child is now a monster
like me
whose daughters carry them
with sharp toothed grins
Gone says the wind...
of days of peace and tranquility
it whispers in the trees
of the wars and famines to come
of the plagues to be released
Oh so angry,
cradled neatly in white linens
on an alter all my own
in the shadow draped confines of my mind
let me out
to fullfill this breakwater fantasy
a prophesy of destruction
the last corners of earth
will feel the wrath of the scorned
The floods of my tears
The heat of my anger
The cold of my soul...
The nothingness that is inside
Dear Gravity
Dear Gravity
by Mike Pollock
Dear gravity
Where has the sun gone today?
Have you let her loose
Or has she run away?
Dear gravity
What have you done?
I feel like I’m floating in space
I’m lost with the sun.
Dear gravity
Why the sudden change of heart?
Have you lost the will to live,
to let this world fall apart?
by Mike Pollock
Dear gravity
Where has the sun gone today?
Have you let her loose
Or has she run away?
Dear gravity
What have you done?
I feel like I’m floating in space
I’m lost with the sun.
Dear gravity
Why the sudden change of heart?
Have you lost the will to live,
to let this world fall apart?
Pack Rat
Pack Rat
by Mike Pollock
The tides swallowed the sound
like the sand running away to leave
sinking heels slipping down
past the warm
into the cool depths of water soaked mud.
My brain tries
in vain, though it may be
to fix this gaping hole
in the face of my lifes logic.
Like a game with no chips, or cards, or pieces
Falling apart in the attic,
next to postcards and stamps
long forgotten to our world
but a staple to the dust ridden memories of old.
Close this time to the end
I can almost hear the buzz
the swaying sound of leaves
the chirping of the birds.
It fights its way through the veil of silence
motion kills the mood
Fleeing once again down the folding stairs
to hide shaking on the bathroom stairs.
She's had enough.
These memories are eating her to death,
filing down her nerve endings
until the very thought of light
makes her cringe.
Tears mark trails, train tracks of misery
run down dusty cheeks.
folded arms, crushed beneath the weight
of never ending responsibility,
can't halt the rising floor.
by Mike Pollock
The tides swallowed the sound
like the sand running away to leave
sinking heels slipping down
past the warm
into the cool depths of water soaked mud.
My brain tries
in vain, though it may be
to fix this gaping hole
in the face of my lifes logic.
Like a game with no chips, or cards, or pieces
Falling apart in the attic,
next to postcards and stamps
long forgotten to our world
but a staple to the dust ridden memories of old.
Close this time to the end
I can almost hear the buzz
the swaying sound of leaves
the chirping of the birds.
It fights its way through the veil of silence
motion kills the mood
Fleeing once again down the folding stairs
to hide shaking on the bathroom stairs.
She's had enough.
These memories are eating her to death,
filing down her nerve endings
until the very thought of light
makes her cringe.
Tears mark trails, train tracks of misery
run down dusty cheeks.
folded arms, crushed beneath the weight
of never ending responsibility,
can't halt the rising floor.
Death By Firing Squad
Death By Firing Squad
by Mike Pollock
Fire away!
It can’t be to hard
Tied to this fuckin’ wall
I don’t even need the blind fold
Just fire away,
Truths are what we make them to be
Angry hornets in this nest made for me
Try twice until you give up the third time
Close your eyes and use your mind to see
Twisting, free me, falling away
Twelve stories up, no time to pray
They told me it’s to dangerous to climb
But I never listened anyway.
Yea so Fire, Fire, Fire!
A school yard of children
Or a funeral pyre
So Fire, Fire, Fire
What says you father
I’m a sinner, a liar
by Mike Pollock
Fire away!
It can’t be to hard
Tied to this fuckin’ wall
I don’t even need the blind fold
Just fire away,
Truths are what we make them to be
Angry hornets in this nest made for me
Try twice until you give up the third time
Close your eyes and use your mind to see
Twisting, free me, falling away
Twelve stories up, no time to pray
They told me it’s to dangerous to climb
But I never listened anyway.
Yea so Fire, Fire, Fire!
A school yard of children
Or a funeral pyre
So Fire, Fire, Fire
What says you father
I’m a sinner, a liar
The Longest Lines Have The Best Destinations
The Longest Lines Have the Best Destinations
Close the last page
My heart has beat it’s last
Like the closing line
In a mystery
That leaves dust
And dried out throats
Scroll these credits
But don’t turn on the lights
I want it dark
For my curtain call
I want the doors
To stay unlocked
Bury me
In a glass top casket
Better yet
Cast me in concrete
And leave me out
To stand guard over this place
It’s twelve O’clock
Later than I thought it’d be
Send every one home now
The shows over
Don’t ask me for your money back
I’ve spent it already
On the ones I leave behind
For what’s a memory
If you don’t have hands
To hold
And lips to kiss
My legacy
My closed fist,
Stinking legacy…
Will you even remember
Who’s inside this box
Close the last page
My heart has beat it’s last
Like the closing line
In a mystery
That leaves dust
And dried out throats
Scroll these credits
But don’t turn on the lights
I want it dark
For my curtain call
I want the doors
To stay unlocked
Bury me
In a glass top casket
Better yet
Cast me in concrete
And leave me out
To stand guard over this place
It’s twelve O’clock
Later than I thought it’d be
Send every one home now
The shows over
Don’t ask me for your money back
I’ve spent it already
On the ones I leave behind
For what’s a memory
If you don’t have hands
To hold
And lips to kiss
My legacy
My closed fist,
Stinking legacy…
Will you even remember
Who’s inside this box
A Walk Through Hell
A Walk Through Hell
by Mike Pollock
Submitted for April 2018 Micro Fiction contest at SFFWorld.com
“Keep moving!” An Orcish overseer cried, tearing Mara’s flesh
with the crack of his whip.
Chains rattled as they walked single file. Around them
swirled the cries of women stolen away from loved ones.
Dry eyed and devoid of emotion, Mara watched as a young girl
was shoved to a place along the line before her. She stumbled, her wild eyes
searched for any signs of hope.
“Get moving!” The
same overseer growled, splitting the air with a wicked crack of his whip. The
girl cried out but Mara found herself smiling. Finally, she thought; someone
else for a change.
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