I offer up these words

Skeletons in my closet,
Itty bitty friends
Dead bodies
Picked to bones,
Spat out the colon;

I offer up these words
They lay in state
Upon a catafalque
For all in awe
To gaze upon, ablaze;

I offer up this hymn
To God Himself
As a judgment,
Witness against myself,
Seeing all in death;

I offer up these journals
As bricks and mortar
Of my future house,
To keep my enemies out,
And me, warm;

The more I write,
The more I evade life,
Piling up weapons
I throw at father time
and apocalypse to come,

I offer up these words,
Gnawing off fingers
One by one.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

"The more I write the more I evade life", how that line resonates with me. When the going gets tough, and it has and does, I find a retreat in poetry. That's where I come for peace of mind and to retain my sanity. That's where it is easy to stay. A great read Maxwell. Some excellent lines here. Hope all is good with you.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is really excellent writing...thought provoking and very clever in the limits pushed with imagery...
as we try to write and gnaw off our fingers when the words won't come...
the future house we build with them once they do come.
I am reminded of "I am a Rock" by S&G...."i have my books and my poetry to protect me"

j.