Tag Archives: angst

Excessive Angst

Excessive Angst

He suffers not from nuance. His moods are all too blatant.
He bares his anger to display a violence once latent.

His colossal fits of rage reveal that he abhors me.
His reputation slips a notch, and in the end, he bores me.


Prompts today are colossal, display, reputation, bare and nuances.Image by Alessandro Bellone on Unsplash

Road Rage


Road Rage

Every time I lose control, I have cause to regret it.
I only hope that friend and foe in time will just forget it.
 I try to hold myself in check before I go too far.
The only time this does not work is when I’m in a car!

I rave and rant at thoughtlessness. Bad drivers I revile.
I simply must use tongue and fist to communicate my bile.
I wish I had more self-control, that my response was blander,
but somehow selfish drivers just tend to up my dander!


I have an early appointment tomorrow so need to do my post early.  The only prompt ready is Your Daily Word, so it is a single prompt today. The prompt word today is control.

Clarity: Words After an Armistice


Words After an Armistice

I want to make this perfectly clear.
We are not close just because we are near.
There has to be more than proximity for
my heart to open its almost closed door.

Say something sweet to me. Say something rare.
I do not feel loved just because you are there
across a room that is filled up with things.
You must think of something and give your thoughts wings.

Speak playful words that will prompt words from me.
Then volley them back to me. Don’t let thoughts “be”
without giving them air to live in and grow
so they banish these shadows and fan fire’s glow.

Passion’s not something for us to remember.
It’s better a constantly glowing live ember.
Get up from your chair. Give that remote a miss
and speak to me now with a word or a kiss.

Remove my hands from the keyboard and say,
“Let’s give the internet rest for a day.”
Take me to water and take me to sand.
Take off my shoes and take hold of my hand.

Walk me to tide swell and gull cry and light.
Say you’ve forgotten our last brittle fight.
Banish bad thoughts in the now and the here
so I can feel close just because you are near.




In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fright Night.” What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?


Although it feels to me that my main fear is fear of death,
I think what I really fear is the loss of breath.
For when I have night panics that drive me bolt upright,
it isn’t so much fear of darkness brought on by the night,
as it is my fear of something  cutting off my air.
It  is thoughts of smothering that I cannot bear.

The very thing that makes me fight the snorkel mask and rise
above alluring water worlds for a view of skies
(and all the breaths they bring with them–breaths more easily won
when not underwater, but out here in the sun)
is what causes fear of death––that last futile grasp
to hold on to all of life with one final gasp.

Life is so incredible, I don’t want it to end;
for I have no idea at all what’s waiting round the bend.
At times a flash of memory reveals a bygone life
filled with superstition, violence and strife.
If that is what’s in front of me in a new incarnation,
I’d like to miss out on that life and take a small vacation

from all the karma has in store if my next life is worse,
with no time for leisure––no time for blogs or verse––
then oblivion may not be the worst thing that could be.
Perhaps then I could just accept that there will be no me.
Give in to fate and realize I’m just a part of all.
that recycles and recycles–guided by death’s call.