Tag: writtenword

Gaslight Station

we have already
seen a lot of things
strung on vines
made from shitty
dashboard music

lost sparrows trying
to find their way home
to warped cities
where no one
give a shit to
hear them sing

highway vacancies
makes you more
easily seen
sticking to the trenches
where souls lose their skin

wearing smiles
like masks
to hide behind
outdated curtain calls

lights in the distance
feed the comfort missing
throwing words out
before fully formed

every hard pass
will merge left
shattering all this
life in the rearview
leaving me to believe
it was all for nothing

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Triggers

fuck all

the pussy

so they can

feel dead inside

kill the living

kill those who

mean nothing

who had too

much life

too much status

let them know

what it feels like

to be empty

because some

need to be

taught a lesson

that dragging

your feet

through many

busy streets

has only resulted

in a mix of

not giving a

flying fuck

so beat down

those fleshy

desert flowers

and piss on

all of them

to leave

your mark

you will

come back

with a new

set of rules

and i will

be here

waiting

to break

every single

one of them

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Another new book release!

2023 marks the 20th anniversary of when my first book, A Place with No Name, was published. For years I have wanted to do a second edition, as the first one wasn’t quite satisfactory in my opinion. Because of a mediocre final result, it became the bane of my existence. On a whim, I decided this would be the year I would redo it, making it as it was intended. Same as the first edition, I did NOT rewrite anything that was in the original notes before publication. The poems in this collection were written in notebooks and journals from the ages of 11-25. I took the completed poems as they were written, nothing was edited or changed. The only difference in the second edition is formatting, as over the years I have gotten better at it.

Since these poems are from the beginning of my poetry “career”, they are in fact, not my best. However, what makes them interesting is how young I was when I wrote them.

If you have the first edition and you are picking up the second, thank you so much for your continued support. If you are picking it up for the first time, Thank you so much for your interest! You can grab a copy of this gem on Amazon. If you do decide to purchase a copy, I invite you to write a review so I know what you think! https://a.co/d/8WGnWuu

Before all this

hollow shell of a man

waiting to be filled

with something

other than stillborn

memories

over 125 pages read

in one sitting

pages you didn’t

know i had

marked by love’s end

pages sliding

between my fingertips

an orchestra living in low notes

discovering a new season

learning the way

of loneliness, pain

mapped out in blueprints

from quiet spaces

orange and yellow

railroad earth

horizons fall with

delicate mathematic

equations

bits of you kept hidden

i’ve seen

you have more to give

from a heart of barbwire

unhinged doors

windows

souls of regression

invisible bones keep

standing

how bad does it hurt?

let’s hold hands to communion

to sunrises

walking into any or all things

blind

dreamscapes can sometimes

get caught in transgression

midnight raw antics

graveyard shifts

you may think

you are late in coming to this

but you have been here

the whole time  

four decades looming

over balcony seats

the watchers studying  

every move that’s made

but even then

it can still happen here

the moments that have never been

are possible to hold

but what hope awakens

when you are all alone?

don’t want this to be

the last days of us

but what i see

and all i know

is written in between

your double spaced

confession of an unlived life

you are not wrong

everything is fucked

it’s

all

FUCKED

everything is a suicide quest

because nothing like the sun

can be replaced

sway with the trees

in the dark like a fool

shed your skin

with dead spirits rising

trip to nowhere

but maybe somewhere

with me

i didn’t know you

before all this

and maybe i don’t know you now

and i’m ok with it

because i’m not afraid

to burn alongside you in the fire

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

All the fucks you gave

they say you are what you eat

anxiety

bedridden nightmares

monsters in the closet

secrets that cling to your chest

somehow become

words that spill on dirty napkins

takes more than a sewing kit

to heal a fresh wound

mothballs hidden away

as a deterrent in your mind

because somethings are too hard

to swallow

we’ve all made mistakes

again and again

you stand up

brush the debris off

and keep going

nobody gets a prize

if they’re put on repeat

all

those

stupid

fucking

bad

decisions

ties keep getting crossed

but they need to be severed

new days come

night steals them for its own

all the fucks you gave

won’t be forgotten

but always come back

to haunt you

new pursuits kept tucked away

in your back pocket as a reminder

why you fell in the first place

reflection tactics run wild

so they don’t know

what’s beyond the wall

but some do understand

that nothing can save

a rotting garden

(C) S. Lynette, 2023