UnderTheDeadPoetTree : Writing

Second Star to the Right and Straight On Till Morning

Second Star to the Right and Straight On Till Morn..

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


Sleep doesn't just elude, it is proficient in guerilla tactics
On The Lipses:

On The Lipses:

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


Is this the beginning, dear? ... A pause. ... A feeling ... Inaction. ... A reaction. ... Decision. ... A pause. ..
To The Oasis They Came

To The Oasis They Came

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


They came across the salt pans, endless earth, a möbius pilgrimage. Each step on a conveyor belt furthering their seeming retreat, Delivery to ..
Careful and Patient Tendencies

Careful and Patient Tendencies

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


Who tends the garden now the old mans gone? I used to see him as I passed, trowel in hand and knees on small slip of lawn. Posture wilting amidst t..
In Praise of The Breeze

In Praise of The Breeze

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


The single feeder sways from its anchor on the basketball net. Almost empty from the frequent visitings of small birds of Mottled brown and iridesc..
The Guardian or The Warden

The Guardian or The Warden

A Story by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


Consider a maze made of glass. All the walls sheer and perfect and utterly clear. All turns and twists and dead ends made one by the physics of it all..
Then Came Lady Night In All Her Finery

Then Came Lady Night In All Her Finery

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


We confronted ourselves in the dark that night. All across the town, homes turned down their lights. Chairs were pulled up, scraped against bare o..
Self Surgery

Self Surgery

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


You were my mirror and my lens. With your help I excized the parts of me that didn't suit. I cut away my rough edges and you took your words and s..
Scar Tissues to Dry Fresh Tears

Scar Tissues to Dry Fresh Tears

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


I am scar tissue. Long since healed and yet haunted by the knife I drive deeper to find some feeling not yet excised.
The Everyman's Fear

The Everyman's Fear

A Poem by UnderTheDeadPoetTree


It's not that I was afraid that I was flawed, It's that I was afraid that I was normal.

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