Saturday, February 10, 2018


never deep
it seems of late
my visits to the dreamer's realm
initial plunge
a breath's extent
the rest spent floating 'round
the edge of mortal consciousness
where worries do abound
about things artificial
that we've wrought upon ourselves
and though I float
it's not at ease
the water's cold and roiled

I long for depths not tempest tossed
where surface is the myth
a respite from the waking toil
the heart of the abyss
where free from gravity and light
imagination will take flight
and weave me stories
that just might
leave mind and soul refreshed

unlike the zombie I've become
who struggles
with the simplest sums
and wanders graceless
through the day
mumbling incoherencies
instead of cogent themes
though early morning it might be
it seems quite late
for those like me who
never sleep

© 2018 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Inspired by an RC deWinter tweet.

Friday, February 9, 2018

behind my eyes

behind my eyes you're warm and free
clear as crystal
strong as can be
graceful lithe and full of life
by doubts or strife
the truth that makes this hard to see
behind your eyes
there is no me

© Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Sunday, February 4, 2018

no surprise

a tad too late he realized
the size of his left left foot
and just how bad the taste it had
like peat moss mixed with soot

the right was sized about the same
but flavor all it's own
used sweat socks soaked in gasoline
one match would send him home

a blaze of glory not deserved
it's best he's left to stew
and rightly he'll just hang his head
cause silence he eschewed

next time he'll shut his stupid mouth
before he makes a sound
who's kidding whom tomorrow could
find him on this same ground

a lesson taught ain't always learned
time and again he's shown
especially when between his ears
naught but testosterone

© Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved