Blood never bothered me
When I was young…
Eating steak…medium rare
“This is the way it’s eaten.”
My father taught me that
There was no other way back then…
But now that I am older
I cook them dry as bone
We eat to fill a need, it’s true
To satisfy, so we don’t die
Growing up and growing dull
Only eat until you’re full…
Well done, good and faithful son
So boring you’ve become
It’s just as much a waste
Denying taste upon your tongue
But then again. What are we?
A vessel for some pain?
Does it matter how we eat?
The subtleties of blood in meat
After all, we’re nothing more than
Everything we’ve learned…
A flesh machine, some fuel to burn,
for body, soul, and mind
Our mouths are opened up so wide
We cannot see what drops inside
Yes, swallow down and close your eyes
Despise is nothing new…
Acceptance is a virtue,
No one cares what you’ve been through.

When I was just a child,
running wild on city streets…
My mother let us play all day,
No fear of monsters, so they say.
But they were not the least of which,
The bait and switch of taste and touch,
The trust that doesn’t matter much,
The silence we become.
A reticent interior, inferior to a fault,
Photographs of childhood’s end…
Rock hero’s…guitar gods
Notebooks full of doodles
Moving targets for my hate
My mind was a clean slate,
White as snow, free from stains.
But as I grew, I somehow knew,
That life is full of liars…
Preachers speak, flesh is weak,
Poets in the choir.
Now mud remains; the stains abound,
The sounds play on repeat,
My furniture is rearranged,
Time’s a consequence of change.
Feelings are commodities,
As frugal is the wise,
Hoarding loss like hearts you’ve crossed
Or fingers in your words…
Behind your back, a promise heard,
It was never meant to be.
You hid the truth so well from me,
It’s hard to tell. I missed the signs.
I could have sworn love was divine,
Or did it slip my tongue?
Descending thoughts like ladder rungs
Stop your writing, watch your step…
Lies die quickly without breath.

When I was just a boy
I flew into a windowpane…
There was no mark left on my brain
No, none that you could see.
The doctor looked at me and winked
He told me, “Pick a hand.”
And so, I did, and so, it was…
A silver coin for your reward.
Look here, Tommy; did you see?
It clearly has two heads…
You’ll never call the toss.
You’ll never win; you’ll never lose.
But that is neither here nor there,
It doesn’t matter, not a bit,
Good luck left you long ago,
No house to own, nothing to show.
It’s chance and circumstance, that’s all.
Have you heard? History calls…
Depravity makes those kingdoms fall.
A white-washed wall to wail upon,
Shooting stars to wish upon,
Wedding vows to lean upon,
Another promise broken.
Spoken so sincerely,
Clearly, life had other plans…
You flipped that coin, you made her choose,
Sipped your wine, you knew she’d lose.
Your friends applauded, they wished you well,
But time eventually broke the spell.
The season spun a web of white,
The winter called you home.

When I was twelve, I shoveled snow,
Here’s a dollar, off you go…
Conditioned how to spend back then,
Now I’m old, it never ends.
The seasons changing…not my friends,
As spring begins its cycle.
See the Krokus poking through?
The snow is melting fast inside
The cradle of its birth.
It reaches like a prayer
Into a sky of brilliant blue.
When I was young, my eyes were clear,
The sky was different, to be sure.
No white striped clouds to shapeshift
Into serpents on the vine…
Imagination filled my mind,
Clouds bent to my will.
The days are gone,
The window’s shut,
The flowers make their way…
That is, until we make a cut,
Place them on a table,
Eventually, they wilt and fade
Dry like bones,
They die alone…
No words can help them now.

Your callous tongue can’t taste a promise,
Feel those slippery syllables,
Those liquid lines, the rhymes that spill,
Pouring into jaded ears.
We’ve heard that mush before…
You never speak of anything
That’s relative to our world…
No seeking justice, foreign wars,
No social issues, climate crises,
Don’t you find that rather strange?
All you’ve got is love and heartbreak
Never give and always take,
Sadness in a song.
A prompt or two like nothing’s wrong,
An ex-wife, just because.
Emotional vampire…you seek applause
In temples built of paper…
With many rooms hiding vanity
Idol worship; sense of self.
Playing on the reader’s fears,
Their seething need for love
You’re saying something, anything,
It never is enough…
Another day, another post,
Another quote by him or her…
A famous someone, a catchy song
Leads you to the same conclusion…
Soul solution in a name.
Ego, so demanding.
Now the peak of understanding
Is the precipice of pain,
Goodbye lover, on refrain…
The same poem spoken, different ways.
As if you have something to say?
We’ve heard that phrase before…
You used it in your second book,
And also, number four.
A quote inside a picture phone,
Pretending to be art.
Another lover torn apart,
A kiss inside a dream
Some paragraphs, a story told…
A poem or so it seems.

TM DiSarro
©2026 TM DiSarro/ MindScapes Publishing
For an (8) word prompt by @ramrockspeaks
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