Original Poetry - Bryon D. Howell

I am a poet currently residing in New Haven, Connecticut.

BIO: Bryon D. Howell is a poet currently residing in
New Haven, Connecticut. He has been writing poetry
for a great number of years. Recently, work of his
has appeared in poeticdiversity and Red River Review.

THIS CARDBOARD HOME OF MINE
by Bryon D. Howell

I pretend
this cardboard
box
is a palace for
the well-to-do,
and that I
am the wall-to-wall
carpeting.

After all,
the rich
will always
need
something warm

to walk on.

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NEEDLE PARK
by Bryon D. Howell

To hit the sky
I need a pop.
I should have asked -
"Are you a cop? "

And so I fade -
hey, watch my rig!
I close my eyes,
and out I wig.

If I get sick
don’t take my sash.
It may look sharp
but holds no cash.

There’s not enough
in this my spoon -
to spike the sun -
ran out too soon.

I’m still nearby
but now I’m done
all visions gone -
I’ve missed the sun.

My hopes were high,
my plight was dark -
across the tracks
in Needle Park.

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ALL IN THE FAMILY
by Bryon D. Howell

My last crack binge took so much life from me,
my house, my job, some friends, and months of time.
it took my self-esteem and dignity.
The muse left too, of course, she took the rhyme.
Some of my children hid inside a drawer.
Some locked themselves inside my old briefcase.
They were not fed or changed, I needed more.
My kids became too difficult to face.
I even lost a few when things got tight.
My twelve packs needed somewhere they could hide.
I threw my children out, you read that right.
Outside my window Mother Muse, she cried!
I stopped, my wife returned, most tots were freed.
I'm thankful they were poems - not my seed!

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