Monthly Archives: March 2012

the weight of years

like stones they pile one upon the other
stacking upon the scales of fate
in time they would crush
one upon the other

alas my burden, to return them
to their rightful owner
with no interest
for I am bankrupt
and my term due

preclude I pray
from this crushing
as I am now what I was



written by Scott Schoffstall
© February 11, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn


fly in a jar

I am the alien
the other
for destruction
consummately fated
fitted with obstruction

as a fly in a jar
I batter myself
upon glass
in desperation
to pass
only mocked
with each darting
in futility blocked
before starting

I discern no bar
until I try
             as I fly
fully intent on release
an impenetrable cross
of double
that will never cease
to inflict its trouble

I am the alien
I have no right
to plead my plight
free will
in this game of attrition
a tale of omission
from all that draws breath
gives life meaning
makes bearable death

in separate space
there will be no grace
            ordained disdained
the lines
            on my face
there’s no holding time
thief of
          my days
corrupter of ways
          a singular hell
       by moments
                    sealed inside
slow acting stress cyanide

I lie in hopes to dream
escape from this scheme
but they have all fled
there’s no refuge in bed
a platform of torment
                 a jest
          I detest
of encircling regret
         on descent
what I could know
     or how I could grow
no quarter given
     to insanity driven

a reverse black hole
zero can come
but a solitaire soul
in a transparent drum
               takes hold
by this power controlled
resistance disintegrates
forced into exile
in place

forever constrained
to remain
kept inside
swept aside
as refuse
no reason denied
all hope erased
on this planet’s face
                                 there will be no trace



Written by Scott Schoffstall
© July 03, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

the age of digital scribblers

a big white rectangle
shining luminous lobotomy
open up and say ahhhh shit!
did I get you?

what? you’re still here?
I’ll fill you up with little
black picket lines
stick-men of syllabicity
they’ll fight for me

they’ll blacken your bright
beaming bombast
with little slashes
lacerating your pale petulance
until you’re scarred with
20/20 hindsight

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© August 07, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

this phantom span

loss impales once more
but though dagger withdraw
the void advance

there is urgency
for stay
but it is done.
the world vacates
and the drop plummets
down its hurtling descent

would thee intercede
for a fool
pendent of right
writhed in wrong
yet however you impeach
the dead
they will not rise

I am thy slayer
seed of Cain
I shall
no more repose
though banished to grave
and dangle upon this
spectral thread

a pendulum creaking
in the wind
regarded not
the known unknown
invariably denied

I would loose this bond
that garrotes
with its wrenching grip
but no sooner do I break
than I commence to slaughter

my recidivous impulse
condemning me to evermore
return and serve the sway
of this phantom span

oh would that I learn to slip
this noose that with its
taut snap, suspends

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© March 11, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn