Sunday, April 27, 2014

the porch at night

the porch at night

by: M. MacMinn

strokes of deep blue, tousled in black
wisps of dark grey
florescent yellows

old men on bicycles
heading home
slowly, surely

cabinets of paper
begging for the fire

breathing out the past
aching from the present
longing for the next page


www.markmacminn.com

Sunday, April 20, 2014

The Distortion

The Distortion

by: M. MacMinn


false teachings, the distortion continues
a mindless feed, the distortion continues
distraction, manipulation,
foundations built on cracks, built on pits,
bottomless and desolate
the distortion continues

free falling
on a gasoline slide
floating with beef and milk
in a Coca-Cola filled pool
happiness everlasting
the distortion continues

love on the other side of the bar
the distortion continues

lives wasted, slaughtered, slayed,
raped and robbed,
pillaged and fucked
the distortion continues

the sun's gotta shine,
Lord the sun's gonna shine
distortion is mine

and the distortion continues


www.markmacminn.com




Sunday, April 13, 2014

I Hunt

I Hunt

by: M. MacMinn

I hunt, everyday.
I do not attack, but at times pursue.
I plot and plan.
I think like a man.
I want you.

I want your body wrapped around mine.
I want to watch your face scream,
satisfied, pleased, complete.

I want to feel your muscles pulse,
responding to my pressure.

Twinge and quiver.




www.markmacminn.com

Sunday, April 6, 2014

The Sound

The Sound

by: M. MacMinn

a wheeze and a sigh
an unsteady hand
tries to clasp
tries to hold attention, which flees

scattered vision, hushed voices
circling dim lights, rapping on the roof

defeated, falling to their seats
holding hands
underneath the table
to shy to be seen



www.markmacminn.com

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

I Rain Out

I Rain Out

by: M. MacMinn

Like the rain that swells me
drizzling slowly out
Older eyes open
jostling blindly

Fortunes once forgotten
return with breath blown
Novels find new meaning
as fresh hands turn

Simplify your story
believe it within
Days are written daily
when night can begin



www.markmacminn.com