The writings of Hunter Coch

Posts tagged “free form

I See You


I see you through the window of a whiskey bottle,
I see you through the red lights,
I see you through the smoke of inebriation,
I see you through the drunken revelry,
I see you through the pain,
I see you through the dancing masses,
I see you through the delirium,
I see you through the empty sounds,
I see you through the loss,
I see you through the endless possibilities,
I see you through the end of time.



We look at ourselves and wonder.
We look to the outside and see only reflections.
What are we?
We are beings behind the masks we make.
We are beings beyond what lies beneath.


I awoke to find self loathing,
A spark of death in my heart.

I awoke to swimming despair,
A drop heartache in an ocean.

I awoke to the light fading,
And the hurt expanding by leagues.

I awoke to a new emptiness,
That’s as old as my age of existence.

I awoke to the pains I’ve caused
To an undeserving heart.

I awoke to a moonless night
The stars no longer speak.

Bleeding (Censored)

I’m falling,

Falling from the mountains of emotion,

Falling from the epic climb up cliffs and peaks.

I can smell piss,

It permeates the house and carpet,

It lives in the furniture, I clean and the next week returns.

I’m lonely,

Living day to day with minimal adult interaction,

Living in a house but unable to make it a home.

I crave,

Longing for the inebriation and sweet forgetfulness of spirits,

Longing for times when the weight is still there, but considerably less.

I’m tired,

Sleep comes in short bursts and then poor in quality,

Sleep brings good dreams, the only reprieve.

I cry,

Tears in the early morning, before the sun rises,

Tears of self pity, emptiness, and loss.

I’m nauseated,

Puke is always at the point of expulsion,

Puke is always fought back down, no time for that.

I’m sad,

Saddened by the mental incapacity of the father,

Saddened by the hurt I’ve caused the ones I love.

I exist,

Only by the will and strength of diapers both young and old,

Only for the love given and the smiles of my children.

I live.

The Lonely Walk of Madness

On a night-time walk,
To clear this mind of sadness,
For a woman lost,
Became a tale of madness.

Through old oaken groves,
On a chilly starlit night,
Thick mists snuck in and
Words that brought consuming fright.


Beats sound from unknown
Corners as shades come by fog.
And fires flutter,
Scented embers brought gray smog.

Fetish sits center,
Hooded circle come about.
With barbarous chants
The alien minds call out.


Barren head of death,
Carved with sigils great and small.
Idol of power,
To the ancient ways recall.

With the heart’s rhythm
The shadows begin to dance.
Smoke rises to heights
The daemons begin to prance.


Faster the beats rise,
Frenzied are the shadow beasts.
Fog and smoke and heat,
Drunk on the mystical feasts.

By beats and chants and thick smoke.
Blue and black fire,
The gifts of gnosis evoke.


Deathly fetish glows
As a dark liquid light spews.
Burning cold and thick,
Shifting with unearthly hues.

Then all became still,
And the ghostly creatures stared.
Alone in the dark,
Motionless, afraid, impaired.


Shades and shadows fade,
Silence comes and the fog clears.
Dare I ask what came
Dare I look in deepest fears.

By the light of dawn,
Arrives the deep cleansing rains,
And clearing quickly,
Eyes widen to what remains.


Deep scars and pale rotting stains.

Devil’s Wind


The devil’s wind blows,
Nude in play
Under clear skies,
Dry heat flows through a winter day.

Air takes will to passions night,
Lovers play
Under starry light,
The devil’s wind blows.

Flesh to flesh,
Breast to breast,
The devil’s wind blows
From east into the west.

An opera sounds,
Of love and lust,
And pleasure sings,
The devil’s wind blows.

Taken heart and taken hand,
The devil’s wind blows
Across valleys of delight,
To shores of sand.

On the day that follows,
Night left behind,
Moments of rest,
The devil’s wind blows.

The devil’s wind blows,
And blows,
And blows,
The devil’s wind blows.

Poem: Life in a Vacant Lot


I am the one who they ignore,
I am the forgotten,
I am the one weathered with age,
I am the one alone on a stage.

Long are days of waiting,
Where the seasons and people walk,
Suns rise and nights pass,
Alone on brittle grass.

Dust settles and colors fade,
Dreams rot with decay,
Alone on a patch of dirt,
Stained and torn sits a young girls skirt.

Orange rust rotting aged iron,
Peeling gold paint fall in flakes,
Empty bottles with fading labels,
Graffiti painted by misguided rebels.

I am the one who they ignore,
I am the forgotten,
I am the one weathered with age,
I am the one alone on a stage.

Poem: Sea of Apathy


Left with the tide,
Swallowed by the sea,
Invitations never come,
Is it friendship if companionship is put aside?
Assumptions chip and shatter,
An afterthought is forgiveness,
Grains of loss are the sands,
And the winds the tool of animosity,
Time does not tear but erodes like the sea,
And longer still does it take to build anew.

Poem: From the Sea


It came from the sea,

To feed.

Rising from the waves,

To hunt. It murdered men,

To feel.

It returned to the deep,

To sleep.

Tanka: Dreams of Sky Fire


Fire falls from sky,

Night burns bright in hues of green,

Life becomes simple.

Civilizations decent,

Through the eyes of a dreamer.