The words reflect the poet’s depth of thought
Accounting for antagonist’s naught
Crushed by the wheels of the juggernaut
Accomplishing without looking haut
© 2011 Michael Yost
The words reflect the poet’s depth of thought
Accounting for antagonist’s naught
Crushed by the wheels of the juggernaut
Accomplishing without looking haut
© 2011 Michael Yost
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Blame, Choices, Consequences, Depression, Expectations, Fear, Lonliness, Love, Melancholy, Mental Health, Writing
Gutter pizza steams
Round worms seek shelter
Pigeons flock to scene
Broken zipper streams
Boil weeping smelter
Gutter pizza steams
Lacerations scream
Doubling up, welter
Pigeons flee the scene
Conscience fades to dreams
Nightmare now alters
Gutter pizza steams
Pigeons flock to scene
© 2011 Michael Yost 02/09
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Choices, Consequences, Drunk, Gutter Pizza, Melancholy, Mental Health, Michael Yost, Nightmares, Pigeons, pizza, Vomit, Zipper
There you sit up high on your throne
Playing with your suitors by throwing a bone
I stood alone letting it fly by
Watching the weakest ones start to cry
Two of your suitors gnawed the bone in half
As I still stood alone and started to laugh
The price the winners paid left them bloody
Limping up the stairs ugly and muddy
As the Queen’s champion I blocked their sway
Only one man can pass by me this way
Two are stronger than one they spoke aloud
They took me down quickly and pleased the crowd
Now there’s two champions one on either side
No bones thrown now since the Queen’s satisfied
Covered with rotten food the Queen let me live
Showing her satisfaction for what I once did
© 2013 Michael Yost 02/16
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anger, Anxiety, Consequences, Death, Depression, Expectations, Friendship, Love, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Poetry, Winners and Losers, Wonder
All I can give are these few words written here
Uncovering part of my life hoping to clear
Being left behind wrestling with my old fears
The same unspoken problems behind my tears
No molds or experience just an empty void
Tripping over my cold darkened thoughts yet a boy
Being held backward or worst yet pushed through destroyed
Reliving parts of my life no longer being toyed
The mirrored web cracked splintering some of my sins
While I tip toe on eggshells, needles and pins
Hoping today the rest of my life begins
Opening the locked doors that are held tight within
© 2014 Michael Yost 04/05
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Choices, Consequences, Depression, Lonliness, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Poetry
Being caught up into her stagnation
It’s hard work watching her four blank walls
Rocking my chair in alienation
Her breathing and my rocking had stalled
Indiscernible music and lyrics
Screaming silence into her musty room
Wiggling their arses farting satiric
Opening my mind’s eye seeing the gloom
Being left alone staring at her walls
Only seeing the dust around the frame
Fading memories as pictures fall
Nothing now will ever be the same
© 2015 Michael Yost 07/19
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, betrayal, Depression, Expectations, Lonliness, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Poetry, Writing
We all have a purpose beyond who we are
Ignoring it and pushing it too far
Everyone knows it comes up too late
Ignoring me and pushing me to hate
Now just around the next corner I peeked
This far away I could smell him he reeked
Leaving mom and me alone long ago
We each forgave watching bloody piss flow
© 2015 Michael Yost 04/26
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Addiction, Anxiety, betrayal, Choices, Consequences, Death, Depression, Embrace, Expectations, Fear, Hate, Lonliness, Melancholy, Mental Health, Michael Yost, Nightmares, Poetry, Sadness, Writing
I can’t speak of geniuses and their depression but I too wallow in words. A few tears choked and primed presses the accelerator towards oncoming traffic or walls if necessary. Unaware or no one cares about the body count as long as I get the well deserved attention from those I love the most? Look at me, stroke my head, see me touch me feel me. Even Tommy knows the score and listen very intently and you might hear Rod Sterling saying, “On the sign post ahead It’s an area which we call … The Twilight Zone….”
© 2015 Michael Yost 04/10
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Choices, Consequences, Depression, Dreams, Expectations, Fear, Lonliness, Love, Melancholy, Mental Health, Michael Yost, Poetry, Rod Sterling, The Twilight Zone, Tommy
All of this confusion was never meant to be
Suddenly my future is going to the blue sea
Trying to grasp her shadow I fall on my face
My life forever changed and all I do is pace
Being free I miss what I hated most
Having way too much time to slide and coast
Now it takes a lot of work to sit and do not a thing
I had lots of ideas then that I could do on a wing
Nothing can stop me now except my free will
The images of what was, over flow’s my fill
Coming from my eyes and the silent screams inside
The sun is rising, laying in my sweat and my head is fried
It’s a new day expecting to find my my new way
So many voices from the crowd but I must say
Rising above the chatter clearing my brain
Must find the the door of progress to the next pain
Now I start floating up and rise above the noise
Her shadow is still silent and I’m losing my poise
Let me ask one last question that I am now free
Will our shadows ever merge and come to be
© 2014 Michael Yost 08/05
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, Choices, Consequences, Depression, Dreams, Expectations, Faith, Friendship, Lonliness, Love, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Poetry, Sadness, Wonder
Where did her facets go that held his heart
We had hoped that they’d never be apart
Exposed to cold’s hold with white snow blowing
Then to see his opened wound with blood spilling
See his blood dripping down his left shoulder
Wounds like that some men never recover
Everyone who’s anyone knows what he could be
Of course his heart is held by the words of He
Your love can leave at a moment notice
Whistling Dock of the Bay with Otis
Singing Walk on By with Dionne Warwick
Or You’ve Got a Friend holding a carrot
© 2014 Michael Yost 07/11
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, betrayal, Blood Spilling, Choices, Consequences, Expectations, Facets, Lonliness, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Recover, Sadness, Wounded
Like the song, I ask where have all the flowers gone.
Where are the people that were part of my life growing
up as a babe and young boy?
I know the answer; they have slipped away into a memory
I have the memories, deep memories, I should be happy.
Next the teenage years and a lot of the same people are
there; but there’s new ones too. They were priming me
for the new adult life and the first loves of a teen. It was
happy anxiety. Those people and the girls have all slipped
away into memories. I have the memories, deep memories,
I should be happy.
As a young man the 7 seas were going to be my home and I married a young lady to keep my house. We had one child and finally four growing up and out of the home. They all have a wife and a husband of their own. Those children raised me! The wife and I drew apart and the family all slipped away into memories. I have the memories, deep memories, I should be happy.
Aging as people do, I found a few friends; the kids were
all far away and I turned to writing as an outlet. Nothing
was ever published, but that didn’t matter; the writing
was for my benefit, no one else’s. One day the Doctor
told me I would soon lose my memories and after a
while I would finally die. So now I write even more of my
memories, so I can remember them; so I should be happy.
© 2012 Michael Yost 2/7
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anxiety, children, Choices, Consequences, Death, Fear, First Love, Friendship, God, Happy Anxiety, Lonliness, Love, Melancholy, Memorie, Mental Health, Michael Yost, My Benefit, Poetry, Sadness, Slipped Away;, Wonder
The anchor’s dragging from the wind blowing
Sails are stowed so the boat must be towing
Two anchors dropped bow into the waves
Dark clouds with sheets of rain counting graves
Pealing thunder brought Hope from the cabin
Snapping a switch Hope brought out the lightning
Purple, blue and white colors lit up the night
Asking Hope smiling if she had a kite
No but we must go see Davy Jones
The boat started to sink shivering bones
Hope sang a magic song I’d never heard
Capturing my heart and soul the words blurred
Jumping overboard and I started to swim
My confusion cleared up out of the dim
Out of my dream I wake up in the moat
The first one offering her hand was Hope
© 2014 Michael Yost 05/25
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anchors, Anxiety, betrayal, Choices, Consequences, Counting Graves, Dark Clouds, Davy Jones, Death, Dreams, Expectations, Fear, God, Hope, Humor, Kite, Lightening, Lonliness, Magic, Melancholy, Michael Yost, Nightmares, Poetry, Shivering, sleep, Thunder, Wind, Wonder