The Familiar Stranger (poem)

I don't want to write this,

I don't want to acknowledge your death,

I don't want to miss you,

but I know I have to.

Today, while walking home,

I bumped into a stranger

who looked just like you,

like your ghost embodied to haunt me better.

I tried not to linger,

but they chased after me,

just like you did...

back when you were still alive.

For the first time in a year,

I glanced over my shoulder

and saw you trotting to keep up,

but even through my tears I knew it wasn't you.

-Zero

Just Five Seconds (poem)

“Just five seconds,” she says,

her arms outstretched out to him.

He floats into her grip, the two intertwine,

“now I'm never going to let you go.”

Her honesty is playful,

a child with her eyes full of light,

her heart light with love,

his wishing he didn't have to go.

“You know I can't stay,”

he reminds her with a whisper in her ear.

“Sleep can wait till later,

just stay a little longer.”

He thinks of a thousand reasons to leave,

responsibilities, sleep, and so on,

“just five seconds,” he thinks to himself,

“but I'm never going to let her go.”

-Zero

Where is the Love? (poem)

A lit candle hangs above the chapel's altar,

bright elegantly carved pews face the aisle.

A place of love, forgiveness, and peace.

But look closely and you'll see something amiss.

The congregation wishes peace on their neighbours,

but two do not turn to each other.

You can see the displeasure on their faces,

residual anger and frustration eating away at them,

one searching for peace, the other preferring enmity.

Between the readings of forgiveness and love,

it's easy to question why they're here

when they refuse to live as preached.

Have the congregation sing to them “where is the love?”

because it clearly isn't here,

it's hidden under the murky shallow waters of disdain.

Have the pair talk and argue,

let them yell and scream

until they see they're furious at a mirror.

-Zero

Howling at Whispers (poem)

And the whispers say:

“Give up,

there's no point fighting it,

you're just not enough.

You never will be.”

So I howl in turn:

“There could be ten million of you,

surrounding me on every side,

so that all I hear is you,

and that still wouldn't be true.

“Would you tell a lion he can't roar,

a fire it can't burn,

the sun it can't shine,

the rivers they can't flow,

or the birds they can't sing?

“I may hear your whispers,

coming from deep down inside,

but I am a roaring life, burning fire,

I am a shining sun, flowing river,

I am an exaltation of larks!

“You can whisper all you want,

but that will never change.”

-Zero