Rotting Fruit

years went by
pleas were ignored

love languished
ripened, yet not picked

seen, and not heard
dying on the vine

a heart’s desire
not getting what it needs

it was perishing
before my eyes

John Grey

WHIPPOORWILL

I hear 

a whippoorwill’s
bodiless
chirp

dusk’s 
inimitable mating call –

the bird world
opens a window

but doesn’t turn
a light on

DESERT MORNING

the sun of old
reveals an empty landscape

shines on every cliff-face
the prospect of heaven

steamrolls with light
the thick, hardened clay

wakes the stones
to another blind day

CROPS

black earth
can only bury
for so long
a seed’s
steel boldness

FIRE ON FIRST STREET

A house burns.
Throngs of flame 
overwhelm firemen’s hoses.
The family is safe,
look up in horror 
from the opposite side of the street.
In one collective searing raspberry,
a great red tongue
pokes and pffts 
through every window.

AFTER THE BREAKUP

like salmon 
swimming upstream

you too return
to your birthplace

flop on your old bed

and die a little

MEDALS

Survived a helicopter crash,
was shot three times
and badly wounded 
from a roadside bomb explosion,
of his chest full of medals,
his very favorite was his chest.

TAKE PLEASURE

Through my window,
I spy a sky worth waking to,
the blue of Dutch pottery,
and thin strips of cloud.

No tenements.
No factories.
No smoke-stacks.
No traffic.

Looking up
gets me out of the city.

POST-DIVORCE

the hands drifted apart

and the hearts
were now for everyone else

yet remained unwanted

in the lonely years to come

~~~

John Grey is an Australian poet, a US resident, and has recently published in New World Writing, River And South, and The Alembic. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters,” and “Between Two Fires,” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Paterson Literary Review, White Wall Review, and Cantos. John has been with The Short of It since its very first feature, and received a Push Cart Nomination from TSI for his 2024 piece – Handoff.

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It’s Just A Phase

Inspired by What do you see #331

harmony at first
what begins comes to an end
shattered hearts run red

Chronic Ambivalence

a heaviness surrounds
the lonely veil i wear
of not being remembered
while i’m right here
silent tears trickle
from an ache to be wanted
arms reaching out
only to be met with distance

what’s the anti-venom for disgust
because it’s slowly killing me

Embittered

promises not solemn
an inimical rage felt
lifetime mishandled

Cold

Redux

you threw the first rock
the force of it landed
the pain came in slivers

you broke open
love’s shelter
it’s no longer safe here

our warmth escaped
cold steeliness seeped in
my blood curdled icy

Originally published 4/10/2019 on I Write Her.

A Broken Heart

Inspired by What do you see #306

crisp conversation
with a visceral response
we are over now

An Infiltration Of Indifference

there is an underworld hiding in relationships
like the place of departed souls in hades

it’s weakness

maybe he didn’t mean to hurt you
or abuse your trust

but he did

his deeds were intentional
his needs, desires, and wants came first

like you didn’t matter

his love is an illusion
a lie you can’t believe in anymore

Losing Her

the flowers and chocolate romance
heated by unbridled lust
and wicked passion
the start of both your engines

“the honeymoon phase”
a mix of tender intimacy
and out-of-control longing
countless, unending hours of communication

but then, the day-to-day takes its toll
overtime at work and at home
nudges each over the jagged edge of stress
undernourished nurture strains the bonds once so strong

eventually, the peak is reached
and after a certain time
the relationship solidly diminishes
there is no return to paradise anymore

what came so easily before
now, only a faint trace of the allure remains
occasionally, it’s sparked again
but mostly, there’s indifference

it’s tiresome to be so out of sync
and frustrating to feel extinguished
now, only capable of loathing
enduring yet another day of disassociation

until one day when the sadness, too hard to bear anymore, makes her turn and walk away

Obvious Deception

Redux

Pixabay.com

i’m not the enemy

wrong
you were never a friend

friends will…
listen
offer a shoulder to cry on
give tissues as needed
nurture
be excited to be with you
tell the truth
protect
support
engage
comfort
laugh with you
act like your #1 fan
shield you from oncoming shit
be ready and waiting

me having to stand up for myself
and up to you
proved once and for all
you were never willing
to give what should have
come so naturally

Originally posted 2/11/2019, here on I Write Her.