Singer Joy Poems

Call it a soul-
Your conscience-
Your sole penance
Remains whole
...

With the mirror breaking
Crying, sick and aching-
Its reflective, glassy throat.
And the ashes feel like water
...

Secrets were always,
(if perhaps not intended)
Meant to be retold.
...

Loneliness laughs,
And coughs
Up a bit of lung.
(Excuse me!)
...

In the spindly
Stairwell-
Spiraling...
(Spinning)
...

In the heralding vastness
Of the castle!
There is austerity;
(That we all know
...

It is the thing you offer.
With a golden ribbon;
You package
Nothing.
...

It is a huge blockade.
You tell of the massive challenges it presents.
You launch stringent complaints
Of major frustrations.
...

It is hard to tell where
This ends, and I begin.

When I see those
...

Beneath the barren staircase stood
A box of metal, plain.
The curious reader questions 'Would
But what, this box, contain? '
...