Abstract Poem

An abstract poem.
a rejection.
I pick the most promising themes.
No ready-made novel, no dense story.
Cut off in a self-induced vacuum
I could be myself.

Midnight Darkness

She stood there,
together in the midnight darkness
with her lover. They swayed and stumbled forward
over the edge
locked in death's embrace.

Nature

Nature did remove my grief,
and tranquilized my mind.
The woods and clouds bade me peace.
I resolve to remember the effect,
the sublime ecstasy to the soul, the light and joy of nature.

Drowning

I sit here, drowning
in self hate and the blank hell of my primitive consciousness,
it seems too late.
I can see only the filth of my life.
Reality is what I make it.
Can I ever honestly accept how I rationalize my life?