A Slower Path

What we’ve taken on heavies our load
Done with such confidence that we seemed bold
Truth be known we’ve slipped up before now
Dreams had to be left behind disavowed

Not being forgot, a slower path we’ll take
Our reputation being built on what we make
Not like Sisyphus we’ll roll over the peak
Finding smaller hills from others who speak

© 2016 Michael Yost 5/23

Poet’s Words

The words reflect the poet’s depth of thought
Accounting for antagonist’s naught
Crushed by the wheels of the juggernaut
Accomplishing without looking haut

© 2011 Michael Yost

Panic Attack

Thinking I lost my web site after a reset.

It Should Have Been Six


If she would love me I’d feel it forced

If she would love me I’d feel remorse

It should have happened already by now

It should have happened before our vows


If I had known it was out of sympathy

If I had known before today she’d be free

It should have been done with feelings of love

It should have been done without feeling shoved


If you had told me I wouldn’t be grieved

If you had told me I wouldn’t feel deceived

It should have been your responsibility

It should have been six so you were easier to carry


© 2011 Michael Yost 06/27



Start capturing your own irrational fears
Before they take over and become too severe
They can cancel your life before it begins
You could cut yourself off and fall deep within

You can put down on paper just what came to mind
Doesn’t mean that you’ve found or no where to find
Relief from this maze or where it’s defined
Because when you’re inside you feel maligned
© 2011 Michael Yost 07/10

In the Glass I See

There in the glass I see a sixteen year old boy with an old man’s mask on. I begin to notice the dark circles under the green eyes that sparkle; nothing dull yet; but his glasses do need cleaning. I see white stubble and mustache with a two inch long goatee on his saddening face; like he’s had no reason to shave in the past few days. Looking closer I see the goatee covers a weak double chin with a single wrinkle that goes down the length of his neck. The same white stubble covers his shaved head to cover the thinning bald spot in the back and what’s left of his front hairline.
His round upturned nose reminds me of a Santa’s nose, but there’s a thin scar going diagonal from the left nostril to the top that makes his nose tilt to the right side of his face. His cheekbones are set high, but it seems to highlight the dark circles more. The ears are long and close to the head.
Wait a minute… he’s starting to smile with a broad grin and his eyes are lighting up and sparkling even more. His whole face transforms and laughs a little with a tear rolling down his cheek and then is when I happily succumb to my fate realizing the old man is me and that my wrinkles are really my laugh lines. My green eyes are still that of the sixteen year old from so many years ago… but they’re still with me today.

© 2011 Michael Yost 12/10

I Haven’t Done Anything yet Either

The halls echo softly with children’s cries

Mom lies in her locked hole getting high

Garbage strewn beneath the children’s feet

Refrigerator unplugged with nothing to eat


Bulging bellies in America hard to believe

And there’s no one around to care or to grieve

Fly’s in the kid’s eyes are having a feast

Even the roaches deserted with no crumbs to eat


© 2011 Michael Yost 06/20