An Empty Bottle

Here is an empty bottle,
Full of empty promises
and empty, hollow words,
Full of nothing but air
and the silence of space,

Here is an empty bottle,
Yet it has more potential
than any other bottle,
Just think of all the things
that could go into it,

Here is an empty bottle,
Overflowing with purpose,
Ready and ever willing to
serve a greater duty and
contain the stuff of man.

BY: Hegemony


Winter Stag


Snowflakes drifting aimlessly towards earth,
The frigid north wind howling and moaning,
Bleak mountain valleys under a dull gray sky,
The land locked down under Winter’s grasp,

Over snow-covered land, there trots a stag,
His antlers gleaming under a cover of frost,
Meandering about, he searches for his food,
Ears alert, vapor billowing from his nostrils,

Softened snow crunching beneath his hooves,
Small snowflakes clinging to his thickened fur,
Eyes darting back and forth in search of danger,
For he wanders these cold, rugged hills alone,

And yet there is a bright, feisty look in his eyes,
This stag is proud of his fine and sharp antlers,
He carries his head held high with great pride,
Even as the distant howl of a grey wolf is heard,

He freezes and listens, his hubris utterly shattered,
The mighty mountains are home to fierce hunters,
Then another howl, this time a little bit closer,
He sees the wolf pack upon a distant hillside,

The stag leaps into action, bounding over snow,
Darting his way ‘cross the land like a phantom,
Bobbing and weaving through trees like a needle,
The chilled air burning its way through his lungs,

Far behind him the howls grow ever fainter,
Still he runs at full speed to make his escape,
Hooves digging in to find the faintest traction,
Nimble and flighty, both agile and swift,

Breaking out from the wooded treeline in a flash,
Eyes surveying the frozen valley laid before him,
The red deer ponders a winter-locked landscape,
A winter stag wandering whichever way he wants.



Bonhomie Beaut

Azure eyes flashing bright,
Standing at the homeless
shelter handing out nice
and hot cups of coffee to
those who can’t afford it,
Smiling an aureate smile,
eager to help those in need,

A body as beautiful as her
radiant, bonhomous heart,
A heart overflowing with
largess and magnanimity,
Such that it effuses with
the resplendence of a sun,
Surely a beaut of bonhomie.

BY: Hegemony


Almost Normal

“Normal” to me is a theatrical performance,
A series of actors all following this script,
They follow it to the letter without care,
They are quick to punish any deviation,
Hounding and harping upon every mistake,
The script is the magical key to “Normal”,

But my script is missing quite a few pages,
It’s not my fault when I inevitably falter,
I learn as I go but I still manage to slip-up,
Having to memorize what to do and when,
A manual process quite prone to failure,
But such is life when you end up autistic,

Some autistics have more script than others,
I’m quite lucky to have even what I do have,
Some will never manage a good performance,
To them, social theater is quite torturous,
They shy away when it’s their time to shine,
Slinking back into the shadow of the curtains,

I’m starting to appreciate my performance,
And yes, there is something I have learned,
Sometimes it’s rather fun to just improvise!
Still, I’m slowly learning the part that I play,
Even if it takes me much longer than others,
Such is life when you are “almost normal”.