Golden leaf alone,falling through days final light,to land among friends.
Tag Archives: Poetry
The Monsters Come
By Chris Bunton Every morn, the monsters come.They come to attack my day.Every morn it’s the same,and every day, they strive away. The skeletons from closets scream,while vampires claw from crypts.They draw and draw until I am spent.Every day they come. The Monsters come. Ghosts of words unsaid,and desires of demons ripping.Wraiths of past thingsContinue reading “The Monsters Come”
Me
Truth Poetry by Chris Bunton I have failed at everything.Everything I try to do. I have failed in school.I was never well behaved. I have failed at work.I was never a very good slave. I have failed at family.Where are they now? I have failed at life.I’m barely making it somehow. I’m not a famousContinue reading “Me”
Justice
By Chris Bunton Justice is always achieved through violence. When a nation wants justice they carpet bomb the enemy, and drop nukes on their head. When a government wants justice, they drag you from your car or home, lock you in a cage, put you before a joke of a court, and lock you inContinue reading “Justice”
Church Nursery
By Chris Bunton You were in that church nursery, where they forced you to play. They made you share your toy, with that boy, who kept stealing it. They got mad, when you beat him, with that red fire truck. They said you were bad, and needed a long time out. Everyone made a bigContinue reading “Church Nursery”
Good Boy
By Chris Bunton We murdered our dog today. Or at least that’s how it feels.We say it’s for the best.We say he’s suffering.But, it feels like a pointless death. He ran into the vets office.A Good Boy with cancer.He tripped twice, bumping a wall,and peed for the last time. What did he think as heContinue reading “Good Boy”
The Clock Ticks
By Chris Bunton The Clock ticks,tick tick tick.Time drags on,and on and on. A million times a day, the same thing,The same dread and hate all dayEvery day. Disrespect, again and again.It’s my fault once again.Whether from your mouth,Or twisting in my head,Again. Another prayer to escape,another prayer for change,another prayer for peace,another prayer to forgive,justContinue reading “The Clock Ticks”
Cell Block Sounds
by Chris Bunton I was locked up in prison,on an aggravated charge.I had stabbed a man like me,another tough guy, just like me. I taught myself to whistle,a dozen well loved tunes.It soothed me, and brought joy;in a place where hate ruled the day. It was night, when we lock down,and I whistled out theContinue reading “Cell Block Sounds”
My Plumber
My toilet sucked.It would not flush.I was like a caveman,with an outhouse. So, I called my plumber;he estimated thousands,to help me fit in,with all my neighbors. It was way too much,but he had a plan.He knew a Man,who handed out grants. He had a friend,who gladly loaned,me moneybacked by the Man. The plumbers bill,was paidContinue reading “My Plumber”
The Art Fair
Sun shiny day;free after lock down. White tents in rows,flags waving,smells lifting,and the music plays. The search begins; for that perfect piece. Tent by tent;a smile and a nod. “I like that.”“It’s beautiful.”“How much?” Move along;the hunt goes on,for that piece that speaks,and sings. That local art,that awakens,something within. That beauty,that demands to come home.Continue reading “The Art Fair”
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