Snippet of Life

Time sips slowly, on the invisible fluid of my soul.  I sit, and sit, and sit… trapped in a  concrete belly.   Cold metal teeth close tight , close forever.  Smiling under a small one way door.  I am swallowed. The quiet blanket of night holds my screaming mind.  No one is calling out for me as the world sleeps.  I am forgotten, left only with the memory of my deeds to keep me company.  One spark in my mind,  exploded in a moment. 17 raged seconds traded for a lifetime.   I close my eyes, the theater of my mind is covered in blood, while the orchestra plays only the wails of the dead.  I open my eyes hoping the walls will spasm all around me and digest me.  Finish me.  The bars hard bite hold. Silence.  I wait.  My broken mind trapped in a welded skull, kicks and scratches the walls.  Looking down at my fingers I see dusty concrete under my broken nails.  I slide my shoes off wet socks.  My broken toes throb under caked blood.  Time sips slowly.

. . .

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert




A giant wooden circle spins.  Old drawings of children riding on animals and laughing, cover the center hexagonal pillar.  The roof is like an ornate hat for a spinning round house.  Wood shaped into framed swirls and borders.   The paint is faded.  This ride has been on the Earth for some time.  An old group of people occupy it.  The music plays, yet the looks of blind joy, knowing sadness, and silent fatigue hangs on the face of the riders.  A voice booms over their heads, the music fades, the lights dim and the ride stops. They make a line, some are wailing, and trying to hold on for one more time around, but when the music stops, everyone must leave.  They begin walking slowly our of sight. The exit gate is closed as new group populates the circle.  Riders sit on plastic animals impaled with vertical poles.  The frozen faced beasts of burden drift up and down, limited to their evolution, or their design perhaps.  The moment is brief.  The ride starts.  The ride ends.  As the gate closes behind the old riders, children run to the animals, laughing and telling their own stories of how it all works.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert

Qualm: When humans meet

Two human beings, just met, yet they are burrowed in their own qualms.

An atheist, A christian.

A man. A woman.

A conservative. A liberal.

A Broncos fan. A Packers fan.

One rich. One poor.

Yet, both… are human.

Existence is here.  Right now.

A monologue of opinion,

fire hoses spray

water comes out,

nothing goes in.

How can anyone be wrong,

if everyone is right?


Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert




Who is it, that consumes the living?  Darkness, that invisible specter that surrounds all things living, can never satisfy his insatiable appetite.  Hearts flutter and die, the blood within dries.  Flesh looses it warmth, and surrenders silently to the cold.  Darkness, has once again left fang holes where he has drank the goblet of life out of another.  His red eyes glow from empty sockets.  The swirl of gray smoke makes his eyebrows.  In his throat an unquenchable fire burns orange like an angry volcano.  In the blackest part of night he gathers up the seeds of the lost, and plants them in his vineyard.  Their names are etched in crown of stone.  The tread of existence, will soon fray, and unravel, swallowed by an inescapable, Darkness.


Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert




Life’s Elixer

Toxicity of evil, served in a rusted goblet,

a chalice decorated with bug carcasses,

that are called jewels.

Sugars, coloring, and  soothing words,

say, “Drink, drink, drink!”

Evil, though often denied, is never,


Behind the heavy velvet curtain,

evil minds marinate in a cauldron

of putrid rot.

A voice takes the stage that tells

tales of light, and banter,

yet the floorboards,

are bloated with black, mossy,


Why not consider,

serving another human,

a glass of encouragement,

a clear clean glass,

filtered mountain water,

for pure unencumbered love,

is life’s only elixir.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert