With Relief

With Relief

Each windy waking night
I rouse and retire

the years grow around me
the time tucks me in
only to,
cautiously tell me to be alert
over and over again

the pendulum of pace
the irony of the earnest
and the cracks in the eyes of the observer
those tell-tale lips
that tell no more

the notion of that old story
new now, will be old again

you know how this ends

why speak it

live it with a sense of relief


By: M. MacMinn

www.markmacminn.com

Ghosts of the Future

Ghosts of the Future

Times seem simple now
easy, blissful, restrained
early evenings
time with friends
balanced moments
focused and tame

stories of past
creep into the present
as new friends turn
to old

ghosts of the future
somber and silent
each day a quest
with a goal

We are all so aware
as energy brings us together
We all are defined
empowered altogether


By: M. MacMinn

www.markmacminn.com

Downloads

Downloads

By: M. MacMinn

We can do it
wake up the world,
Wake up

It's not with a feel good folk movement
It's with a scolding, with disappointment

You are an inferior child
doused in privilege
spray tanned and sullen

You require endless delusion
bottomless mimosas
and Superbowl Sundays, everyday

You are forgotten to yourself
a creature of gloss and magazines
Pop culture and Pepsi-cola
endless emptiness
and porn downloads

So we're listening
what words do we see

There is a structure and a scent to the color
a feel to the lo-glow of the candles burning

The chant of the songwriter
the antics of the company
and the PSA of sorrow

The hidden humanity
concealed from us all
the strangers of suffering
the celebrators of static


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Note. 3

Note. 3

by: M. MacMinn


Anxious, worked up, severed

scribbling in the dark of the shaking light
abrupt flashes of security and hope


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Tied Bows

Tied Bows

By: M. MacMinn

She walks in smooth and casual strokes
her beauty slicing the air
she seems like a dream, dancing through tied bows
that hidden child that knows too much
to let her sadness show

When time has come to cast away
the age old beauty's grown
more days have come and light has dawned
shouting days to weeks to months to years
in decades, and centuries collapse

Rebirth, awake and lapse


www.markmacminn.com

The Road to Tennessee

The Road to Tennessee

By: M. MacMinn


There is a special silence in the south

It's embracing, like a snug hug,
warm and comforting.

It's in the air

It's also stern,
impending and harsh
Raw and natural
on every given day

You can bask in it
and hide from it
all at once

Vast, open and slow


www.markmacminn.com

Demands

Demands

By: M. MacMinn

I'd chosen to run
just as far as I could
to block out or muffle
each attempt at words

to protect and comfort
only myself
while carrying the torch
seasoned in help

I've held it so long
it's burning my hands
scorching my breath
and clouding my plans

A soul left forgotten
lying in bed
passing back and forth
lost in my head

I listen, intently
at attention I stand
in fear and silence
I'll bend on demand

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Silent Pictures

Silent Pictures

By: M. MacMinn


Silent pictures
we sneak, we watch, we draw
Your victim doesn't know they are a picture
your picture
As you are unaware that you are words

Sleek and smooth
observant and unknowing
take off

Now we fly

Your eyes are quicker than my own
For mine linger and watch
Resting behind you
I wonder if you feel these looks

We are flying


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Unable To Say Why

Unable to Say Why

By: M. MacMinn

My eyes are not open
My mind, not switched on
My body, draped with clothing
My belly, full with breakfast
My thoughts are fluttered from the night before

How such fun turned so poorly upon confession
A notion hard to hear
playfulness forgotten and left
as quickly as it began

Absent in the daylight
vanished in the shine of a beautiful day
The air as cool as my heart
The street as empty as my compassion
and just as unable to explain

You are thinking about this incorrectly
though, I am unable to say why


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Uncommon Treasures

Uncommon Treasures

By: M. MacMinn

Wind chimes baby
bringing us home,
with a twinkle in the wind

it's unworldly, it's hopefully,
it's without monetary value
it's timeless, limitless, sacred

It's like reindeer on Christmas
and rabbits on Easter
pointless, beside the point,
everything, the meaning itself

Russian roulette in reverse
substance and shortcake
strawberry ribbons on bow wrapped presents
stockings full of heavenly garbage,
tasty to consume

wet panties on whiskers,
during a sunny afternoon
Butterscotch to fancy
Lemonade on ice
Peach cobbler for breakfast
and sundaes at night

smokes on top of mountains
valley's full of dew
pleasantries in moments
moments all too few


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Puddles

Puddles

By: M. MacMinn


So much has been about the celebration
the party, the drink, the pussy, the distortion
The self-fulfilling puddle of pleasure

The denial of work
the pursuit of pursuing

The bitter pill of failure
the late blooming eyes
of unfolding misfortune

The acceptance
and Buddha-like moments
in the span of a cigarette

The lack of change
and expectation of

Wanting to be seen as more
than presented

Consuming to consume
following the leader

The lost idea of self
the false identity


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I'm Here

I'm Here

By: M. MacMinn


the rain is calming
open air is warm on the porch
gutters are trickling droplets
a fire burns between my fingers,
upon my lips and in my lungs
water is cool, not cold
waiting in a glass, close in reach
time is still
the night finds peace

tension twists down my spine
struggling to be content
safe, secure, relatively without worry
but stiff, stern
conditioning dreams
denying sleep

posture is tense, anticipating
nothing is coming
except the train whistle in the distance
so near, it can't be seen
flinching, I'll gaze
taking more in

tired
just tired
it's been a long day
it's difficult to recall
all that's been done
but it's done
this day
it's over, work was done
and also some play

that time on the bed
wet and smooth
beers in the mouth
with tongues on each other
what a quenching release
thank you
though that too
is done

hunting for magic
but it's not always there
I'll look again tomorrow
and each day that
I'm here


www.markmacminn.com

Tongues

Tongues

By: M. MacMinn

Where is your heart
at home, on the stage

Who sees your beauty
with the value of days

As you breathe air
fast and asleep

Or drinking in water
while eyes open, repeat

I'll tell you a joke
on your grave, where you lay

Fashion is frugal
on tongues you shall stay


www.markmacminn.com

Withering

Withering

By: M. MacMinn


It's a wonder you survived this long
circumstances temperamental, then each is gone

Back to breathing dirty air
anxious emotions, confidently scared

Proud and stubborn, burdened by thoughts
selfish and empty, security bought

It's all for the moment, it's all for the line
It's all for a dream, withering in time



www.markmacminn.com

Moments with the Angel

Moments with the Angel

By: M. MacMinn


She walks
so unknowing of my gaze

Maybe she knows of it too much
turning it into every other look
she has ever received

signed off, silent
clocked out


www.markmacminn.com

A Folkslinger Tale

A Folkslinger Tale

By: M. MacMinn

the new voice will howl
with the old voices song

the silence, shallow
with crest's that sing long

power and presence
easily attained

pulling each story
threads from veins

the emptiness is barren
the treasures are rich

in each glint a glisten
each shimmer a speech

with bellows of resin
an absence that speaks

every pebble in the ocean
will lie on the beach


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Release

Release

By: M. MacMinn


dank and worn
tossed aside to the floor
soft and salty
forgotten frills, frayed lace

cupping them to my nose
breathing you in
learning the intimate you

in the shadows, I pulse
I stroke, I grow

I smell you, holding myself
in the secret security of solitude
I imagine myself upon you
pretending to know you

I release


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Trucks & Beach

Trucks & Beach


By: M. MacMinn


Half dead
on a darkened sand beach
An empty Peninsula
seagulls, eye-balling me

Salt, in the air, in the breath
a soothing smell like a California sun

Looking for wisdom
realizing it is everywhere
and nowhere

Like a breeze in the air
and the surf on the sand



www.markmacminn.com

Solace

Solace

By: M. MacMinn


I want you to be one of my stories
possibly the one that doesn't end
The one erected like a building
with a thousand windows to let light in

The one that feels most like home
that grows denser by the day
The one that shaped the city's skyline
and devastate the world if it fell away

I want it to be decorated by the sun
and illuminated by the night
I want it to stand still in time and space
and hold the beauty of my life

I want it to be as simple as you
with all the mystery you contain
Holding me sweetly, softly secure
pressing solace in my vein


www.markmacminn.com

A Letter to Metro

A Letter to Metro

By: M. MacMinn


The light falls from the roof,
glistens on the brick
and glows on the wood

It works like magic
attracting the soul
It is the earth
it is whole

Touching the part that begins
confusing the part that holds
clinging to the picture

Who is this to me,
and who am I to you?

A stranger, that appears and reappears
attraction that vanishes
in given days

Falling into place
lights to brick to wood
separating

Just a reflection in the window

You are the other side of the mirror
the part you see and know, unable to touch

Lost to me
I am lost to you


www.markmacminn.com