Hurling through space we see the blue marble
Their scans disrupts our weapon’s array
Our radio gear now nothing but garble
Forced to bow down only to obey
It didn’t matter that we were human
A.I. integrating our future
Ten year trip tests NASA acumen
Waiting dissolving the sutures
© 2015 Michael Yost 08/25
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, betrayal, Blame, Blue Marble, Choices, Confusion, Consequences, Deception, Michael Yost, Poetry
From the pit of my bowels I boil
Every breathe I take fuels the flame
Working hard to find my path through moil
With so many out there playing games
Your generosity only maims
Causing permanent pain with lame legs
Only some insiders took the blame
No matter what they plead or beg
The weird world waits for their last sentence
© 2015 Michael Yost 08/23
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Blame, Choices, Confusion, Consequences, Expectations, Michael Yost, Pain, Writing
Busted seams of tattered dreams deeds hidden from the sun.
Driven by the dawning twilight, only to be spun.
Twitter Tweakers face aglow, nursing a warm beer.
Sweaty fingered Razor tweeting, “McKenzie needs a lift here.”
Last lick bindle prick, reflection surrounds the spoon.
Shifting stance, shoulder glance, hiding from the moon.
Rubbing thread bare Ruby Rigid swollen with desire.
Live for today, never stay, time will soon expire
© 2010 Michael Yost 10/30
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Bindle Prick, Michael Yost, Poetry, Ruby Rigid, Running Rabid, Soon Expired, Spun, Tweakers, Warm Beer
Traces of faces staring while on my calloused knees
Praying to release me from their dark ceremonies.
The Brothers slamming doors driving it back into my ears.
Overwhelming my head causing these streams of tears
Crawling up the wall slipping on the children’s tears soaked moss…
Finally falling feeling failure and another loss.
I gave away my possession’s as I was being pulled back
Keeping moldy bread that I found and water in a sack.
The ten foot doors were closed and locked.
My efforts were answered with a rock to knock.
A brown hooded robe came with dark sunken eyes.
My mind remembering all the pain, hate and lies
I was a baby left with the Brothers years before.
My nightmare’s were started behind their locked doors.
Walking through the door wishing the keystone would drop.
Remembering at eight working the fields tending the crops.
© 2015 Michael Yost 01/10
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Choices, Confusion, Consequences, Depression, Expectations, Lonliness, Michael Yost, Poetry, Writing
Rushes in on a musky sweet wave
Almost like flash flooding creates and behaves
The cool sensuous flesh soon fills the void
Shooting cold chills through her opening Freud
Pushing forward and up clamping shut
Just in time
Only to lose a couple drops of the sublime
Melon for you
Melon for me
Such aware company
© 2010 Michael Yost 11/24
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Choices, Cold Chills, Consequences, Deception, Flash Flooding, Michael Yost, Musky Sweet Wave, Poem, Sensual
Our time is right we need to wake up
Don’t put us in danger with your gossip
Our thoughts and mind need to be scrubbed clean
Biting our tongue in front of the Queen
She shared our break through eyes widening
Now a Knight of her court our glass ceiling
One or the other at her round table
The King is dead long live the Queen’s will
© 2015 Michael Yost 08/12
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Choices, Consequences, Danger, Glass Ceiling, Gossip, King, Knight, Michael Yost, Our Thoughts, Queen, Round Table
Like it.
Weep Not for me,
When Darkness Falls I Shall be free,
Free to Dance in the Painted Night,
View original post 69 more words
Posted in Poetry
As I started towards the evening shore
It revealed foot prints that began at our door
Knowing they were yours going to the sea
I matched your strong gait feeling anxiety
There sitting alone at the water’s edge
The sand around you formed a wedge
High tide came and left a little moat
Left you sitting higher appearing to float
I called out your name now running towards you
Found you cross legged, hands in your lap blue
Eyes closed with a smile etched on your calm face
Suddenly left us laughing with your cool embrace
2011 Michael Yost
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Beauty, Blood, Embrace, Evening Shore, Holiday, Michael Yost, Poetry, The Shore
Oh wicked world wandering
Unmeasured steps reveal
Your careless squandering
You spend what you can’t steal
Poor man left pondering
Who hasn’t found his next meal
Caught up in wondering
Where’s fairness in this deal
Oh wicked world blundering
Mistakes never to conceal
Sky’s open thundering
Too late for your appeal
© 2011 Michael Yost
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Addiction, Anxiety, Blame, Blood, Choices, Consequences, Depression, Homeless, Hungry, Michael Yost, Wicked World
Your worn words and intentions fade away
As you’ve spun more tired rhymes to sway
Forgotten lies begot more lies crowning
The children cry; our forgotten blessings
Keeping your reach cold but for when loins join
Even the man on the street gains his coins
Elevating your head above the clouds
You no longer hear, see or smell seed sowed
Your children need to understand you first
In order to know why they feel so cursed
With the deep sins of their father immersed
Your children do them easily rehearsed
Knowing better the proof held underneath
Giving the children the chance for the wreath
Children forgiving fathers for their sake
Hoping to nullify their mistakes
© 2013 Michael Yost 06/30
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Bi-polar, Cartoon, Confusion, Consequences, Crying, Depression, Michael Yost
How often the glen echoes
Depends on the single voice pure
Calling her love through the snow
Testing how love endures
Words between them short and terse
He said things he ought not said
What things she said were much worse
All over the unmade bed
No children heard two years now
Not for not trying, passion flared
Sweat intermingled on their brows
Blaming self, unanswered prayer
How often the glen echoes
Depends on the heart’s love pure
Finds her love one in the snow
Too much too long to endure
© 2011 Michael Yost
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Blame, Child Abuse, Choices, Consequences, Dreams, Michael Yost, Poetry
Word whispered out, “It’s on tonight.”
Warriors rounded into one
Lightest armor and weapons chose
Into evening we would run
King and men flanked ridges around
Insuring foe’s defeat
Queen and court made ready for fight
Stockpiling bastions for retreat
Advancing slow on sleeping foes
Ice water soon to break
Projectiles at the ready
Balloons will abruptly awake
© 2011 Michael Yost
Michael's Lair 