War: A Poem

War In this fading pain, A pain encumbering with my action, I slip, Recollecting lost fragments of things not in time. A quote, A choice, A love, Lost. My head screams with my regret, But push forward I must. Fatigue drags me further down, The sand beneath my feet Loose, Rough, Cold. There is something there, A journey of hardened choice, Greater insight...hindsight. For my regrets are not masked, My choices not caught in careful arms. They fall. Like my knees to the ground. The sand biting my knees. The pain-- It is no longer fading, Encumbered with my action it is Heavy, Thick, Pulsing. And my regret, Knows no greater agony In a past yet lived, A future now gained. I slip from my knees, Find peace in releasing My flesh to the ground, The sand. There are no waves to greet me, No hands to grasp me. I am with my pain, My choices. Not free from the binding pain Of my past, My journey before me. Buried with my battles, The myriad scars. Yes, I know, This war looms on evermore.

Keep your bite,

S.C. Parris

Poem: Your Eyes

I trace the lines of your needWith the haunt of my departure. I try and see the way your eyes reject my light, My hope. Dispel it, Vanquish, All hope. There is more to this than despair, More to this than angry looks. My scent calls for your removal— A hounding thrill of a pleasure seldom devoured. But when it rings true. Oh. When it rings true, There is nothing more sick in this world, Than the way your eyes reflect my love.... And I can no longer see it.

A Poem: The Night

In these frozen hours, Haunting recollections beckon.

Betwixt my sheets lies absence,

Atop my breasts rests the heaviness of the night.

And I am alone.

A collection of thoughts?

Perhaps,

But their lingering finality cannot deny me of my need.

My need for another.

Perhaps.

My need for another mind.

One to pit against my own.

One to quell my recollections of a day gone.

How I need.

How I wish.

A simple being to quell the emptiness of the night.

-S.C. Parris

Poem: Howl

I watched you from afar, But stood right next to you.

And all the same my tears did fall,

Into the pit I carved for you.

Desire?

I was lost.

Gathering the scraps of what I’d held on to so dear,

I blew the secret when I let you in.

I am the wind,

Wishing you would hear me howl.

-Sheron Parris