Shane Windham's Blog

Trees on the move

Lights standing in the shadows they cast

Books forever in flux

A bottomless supply of life

These are all lesser ways

of comparing the marvel

of your supermassive

acknowledging the eventuality

of touching mine

Corpses what cannot rot

Breaths unceasingly shared

Songs now sung by an other

A map full of inaccessible Edens

We are told no by these

separating boxes of bedrock

—their deafening wails of, “IMPOSSIBLE!”

But I refuse to accept that,

from now until never

Glass without sand

Desire without te...

We call them lucky, those who don’t die young;

those who live long enough to see

how incorrect most are about the nature

of love and humanity

We call them lucky because

we’re still young as well;

older folks know better

Too few dare, and too few care

Better to die in the midst of youth’s delusion

Or maybe all I ever did was come close

to what the rest of you so unsafely

settle into

She’s 10 feet away, and I don’t even

get to see her face

We’re all in such a hurry to go nowhere

Tossed together, then parted fo...

What if that rare feeling of cosmic connection

isn’t as rare as it seems?

What if it’s just a reflection of how few

‘fellow travelers’ we make it a point

to connect with?

What if the resulting loneliness guarantees

an extreme level of depth projection?

Maybe this explains why it’s so incredibly easy

to be completely wrong about the strength

of your tether to that other person

What if bottling the inner ocean

causes others to see us as desert extremes?

What if the indefinite aging of our yearning

convinces ...

People are locking themselves away

so that they can’t be used,

because the vastness of average minds

have begun proving how much

louder than the rest of us

it is that they can be;

teaching the influenceable that use

is a road which leads only to heartache

My, what insufferable intellects they have

“All the worse to better you with.”

Everyone uses everyone,

and the end result simply cannot be

misuse in the majority,

else we’d discard the social contract

Use is hugging your child

to alleviate the imbalance of a ...

Pretend, while sharing this page with me,

that what’s left of your time

is a jigsaw puzzle

It’s not new, but it’s yours

It came from ‘Goodwill’ with a note

of good will by the previous owner

That note says, “Beautiful,

but missing some pieces.”

Nothing makes the broad view of it obvious

As you begin working it, you worry that

this is more than one puzzle

Perhaps it’s actually the ugly and unwanted

makings of a hundred incomplete scenes

You seek out the border bits

till it’s obvious, how increasingly futil...

I want to be the music

that makes her eyes close;

kiss her while she’s crying,

and listen as she spirals into

her safe-at-last internal hellscape

I want to be a habit

that benefits her health

No more aching in the mask,

or picking out pre-approved words

from those never-ending eggshell crawls

I want to be the honest answer

that trusts her kind curiosity

To look in her wet-wood irises,

and offer a canopy of relief,

is what my nature intended

Alas, she’s the rings of Saturn,

and I am one of Jupiter’s moons

Look around you

This is where the rainbow begins;

where my son and his friends frolic

Oh, and by the way, I’ve been

quietly in love with you for years

Have some water

Don’t be like my daughter, forgetting

to hydrate while on these walks

Believe me, I wish that my heart felt

most anything other than infinity for you

Come, sit with me

It’s unfair how so much time flies

before we’re able to recognize its breaking wings

At the very least, 12 hours from now, I won’t be

back to fearing death leaving the thought...

I should have killed myself a long time ago

The moment we met

was clarifying beyond comprehension

—oxymoronic though that statement seems—

that everything I’d been

before you was comedy,

while everything I’d be after equals tragedy

How am I to go on pretending

—now having looked you in the deepening—

that I was ever anything more

than some obsessive, supporting role

in your bejeweled chaos?

I sought to give you second sight,

but I’ll be lucky to give you

lackadaisical leftovers;

forever seeking any meager scra...

HORROR BOOKS by SHANE WINDHAM

SERIES BOOKS:

COMING SOON:

‘Nytmare Haven: A Rotten Return to Panic Point’

MOVIE & TV REVIEWS by SHANE WINDHAM

UPDATE:

I'm now offering Patreon subs for just $1 per month! And I'll be adding at least 30 ratings every 30 days for the foreseeable future. So go find your next great watch today.