when i was a boy

when i was a boy, i was a fragile boy
who shattered in the slightest breeze

my storms came quickly and violently
and even on the sunniest days,
the clouds still hung low

when i was a man, i was an angry man
who screamed and flailed in private

in public, i wore a mask, a jester’s cap
and hid my darkness from the sun

now that i’m a me, i’ll be a gentle me,
i’ll be the best me that i can be

and if it rains sometimes,
i’ll let that be me too

— ptkh 053019

The Day is Not as Hopeless as it Seems

As in the fading of my childish dreams,
When trees bore fruit of sorrows grim,
The day is not as hopeless as it seems.

All that yearning filling sloppy reams,
But paper yellows and ink will slowly dim
As in the fading of my childish dreams.

The child is grown, the light that gleams
Once shone so bright, the rays so slim:
The day is not as hopeless as it seems.

The burning born of childhood’s anguished screams
Are embers now, forgotten words from godless hymn,
As in the fading of my childish dreams,

That pain, now healing, denies its erstwhile themes
To one whose soul’s not rent from limb to limb:
The day is not as hopeless as it seems.

Those tales are done: They will not help the schemes.
Pour out the past–a chalice filled to brim!
As in the fading of my childish dreams,
The day is not as hopeless as it seems.

— ptkh 052419

broken men crawled down the wires

broken men crawled down the wires
that weave
that were woven
labyrinthine overhead

bloated shadows of yesterday’s dream
dissolving
until there are only wisps
of what was

i had taken it all for granted
and now the canopy of wires
and wasn’t-wasses
blocked out the miserly sun

time to pause, to tear down, to rebuild,
to replace the tropes and hackneyed lyrics,
to coalesce and reinvent

to undissolve

to be

— ptkh 052319