I’ve never known such comfort
as right between your arms
and no matter what the day brings
I fall victim to your charms.
I could do worse I suppose
than such an unconditional love
but for now I’ll have to settle
for what others only dream of.
Author: Autumn
Camera Shy
You can take
that camera
and shove it
where the flash
don’t shine.
You can leave
right now
and give me the space
which is rightfully
mine.
© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2018
PicPocket
Black
and perfectly
devoid.
Perfection
in nothing
visible to
the human eye.
What were you?
What are you?
We will never
know.
Until the next
time
my pocket takes
a photo.
© Autumn Siders 2018
Rat Pack
Walk a mile in my shoes
or a mile on this leash,
but still you will not know
what’s on my mind, capiche?
A rat out on a walk,
an ugly sweater donned,
but who’s to say what’s what
or that this all is wrong?
© Autumn Siders 2018
#tbt
I hope your spirit haunts me
once every day.
So my spirit will be lifted
from this dismal fray.
I’ll look out for the signs
you leave in your wake
and know that every spook
is a new memory to make.
I hope that you will be able
to move on in time
but know that your spirit
will always be with mine.
© Autumn Siders 2015
Dead Wood
A dead man drying
or just some sick twist of fate?
Must just be dead wood.
© Autumn Siders 2018
Aluminum
Facebook Users, have you noticed that Facebook always asks you if you’d like to post your most recent pictures? Maybe put a frame on it? Well I don’t.
However, this got me thinking about the odd pictures that find their way into my photo gallery. So to you, odd pictures, I dedicate this week’s poems to you.
Aluminum
can you take the heat?
Aluminum
can you bake a treat?
Aluminum
are you the right size?
Aluminum,
the color of second prize.
Aluminum
what are you about?
Aluminum
will you pan out?
© Autumn Siders 2018
Homecoming
Homecoming,
a vacation from life
a trip to the past
and away from strife.
Settling in
to where you’ve been
but never far
from where you are.
You can’t go home
and you can’t stay here
and the streets you roam
are the truth you fear.
Your bed is made,
don’t be afraid
since home is here,
closer than it may appear.
© Autumn Siders 2018
The Scratching Post: Volume 1
I’ve have started a career in journalism. Click the image below to read the first issue of
The Scratching Post
Murk
What genre do I live
tragedy or comedy?
So hard to find
meaning in the pain.
What path do I walk?
An honest anomaly
in a hopeless hell
with a smile that I feign.
Oceans and seas
turbulent than most
and calm waters
deeper than the core
surround my thoughts
with a haunting ghost
and cut so deeply
waiting for more.
Grant me freedom
from stone-cold thoughts
where demons hide
and devils lurk.
And help untie
these ragged knots
which dwell inside
deep in murk.
Plant a seed
and watch it grow
black vines take over
and eat me whole.
Reap not only
what I sow
but rip the light
right out my soul.
Autumn Siders 