What a few weeks for the Fool. The pre-order for my poetry collection, (un)poetic by m ennenbach, has gone live. Coming December 3rd from Potter’s Grove Press, this is the first of a proposed three book poetry series in the (un) series. (un)poetic by m ennenbach for kindle I finished a short story that really […]
reciprocity of devilish intent the paint cracks in the antique frame the cherubic smile falling flakes of lead based skin to drift across the room the smile turns to frown the joy seeps into sorrowful tears where once love did flourish only seething hatred boils beneath the surface hidden in deft strokes underneath the angels […]
the light ravishes the dark the quiet simpers in the busom of screaming dread bipolar opposites seeking the warmth of frigid lies searching the empty cages of freedom for insight skirting the edge of the poverty line living hand to mouth check to check dreaming of an end to this existential nightmare
he sits alone in flickering candlelight carving every name he has known into the soft pink flesh with a cheap pocket knife across his ribs his chest his arms his legs red angry letters spelled out poet father failure dreamer lover loser liar every drop of blood every tear shed added to the anguish yet […]
her lips tasted of pomegranate lush with dripping juice yet slightly bitter like the falling autumn breeze blowing along the nape of my neck i pictured her as a girl with dirty feet scuffed up knees playing on the rocks as the pomegranates hung fat on the branches above now her lips are stained deep […]
her memory washes over every tiny facet of this agonizing existence like an angry poltergeist knocking over the mementos of pallid gravesense the sun shines cold light on the vaporbreath of water filled lungs in the early morning pantomime of going through the motions of emotional ressonance can you see through the crooked veil can […]
she wafts an aroma of reticent remorse in a cloud like buzzing gnats circling around greasy hair the dark circles beneath her rheumy eyes like the shadows of monolithic disinterest yet something about her lack of care self or for the world around her is alluring in a tepid way she skirts around the truth […]
