“I’ve Come at Last to Anhedonia” published at LatinosUSA

Hey, folks. My poem “I’ve Come at Last to Anhedonia” is now available at LatinosUSA. Much gratitude to editor Michelle Navajas for publishing this piece. Sincerely appreciated, Michelle.

“I’ve Come at Last to Anhedonia”
© 2023 by Michael L. Utley

“I’ve come at last to Anhedonia
that bleak and melancholy land
beyond the god-forsaken desert sand
far ‘cross the sea of memories
where sunlight fades and none has e’er returned…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

I hope you’ll consider following and subscribing to LatinosUSA–a place of unique visions and creative voices from around the world.

“Anchor” published at Gobblers by Masticadores

Just a note to let you know Gobblers by Masticadores has published my poem titled “Anchor.” Thanks to editor Manuela Timofte for her kindness in sharing this piece with all of you.

“Anchor”
© 2022 by Michael L. Utley

“she sat there
9,000 miles away
on the edge of her bed
or the ledge of her building
I never knew which
and talked about anchors
and the black depths
of depression
and what it would feel like
to fly…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers by Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.

“A Few Haiku (22)” published at Gobblers by Masticadoress

Hey, folks. More haiku and senryu for your perusal as Gobblers by Masticadores has published the latest installment of my short haiku/senryu collections titled “A Few Haiku (22).” These small collections consist of six haiku and/or senryu. Sincere thanks to editor Manuela Timofte for this opportunity to share my poetry with all of you.

“A Few Haiku (22)”
© 2021 by Michael L. Utley

(#127)

serrated sea shells
flay unfeeling fleeing feet
my numb soul bleeds out

…..

(#128)

bits of blue shell
and broken soul mark my fall
from heaven’s nest

…..

(#129)

old pond and ocean
renewed with each thunderstorm
my soul begs for rain

You can read the rest of this mini-collection here:

Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers by Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.

“My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” published at Hotel by Masticadores

Greetings, friends. My poem “My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” is now live at Hotel by Masticadores. I’m so thankful to editor Michelle Navajas for publishing this unusually dark and intense poem. Much gratitude to you, Michelle, for being willing to share writing that deals with difficult subjects. We all have voices that need to be heard.

“My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

my old man died alone
on a busted sofa
on a September farm
in the middle
of nowhere
with a gut full of
prescription drugs
and a poorly scrawled note
left on the kitchen table

“something went wrong
in my head”

it said

he checked out
without tipping
the bellboy
the cheap fuck
remorseless
to the end

and in his
final act
on planet earth
he also killed
me
…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“How Swift the Stream” published at Hotel by Masticadores

Hey, friends. I’d like to let you know my poem “How Swift the Stream” is now live at Hotel by Masticadores. Many thanks to editor Michelle Navajas for publishing this poem. It’s an honor and a delight, Michelle.

“How Swift the Stream”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

“as gloaming eventide stalks dying light
to ambuscade the remnants of the day
diurnal requiems give way to night
how quick the gloom
eviscerates its prey

regretful skiffs of shame contuse the dusk
as shadows skulking on earth’s wretched rind
asphyxiate its palpitating husk
how cruel the dark
and all it renders blind…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“A Poet’s Lamentation” published at Hotel by Masticadores

Hello, folks. I’d like to announce my poem “A Poet’s Lamentation” is now live at Hotel by Masticadores. Kindest thanks to editor Michelle Navajas for sharing this poem with her estimable readers. I’m truly grateful, Michelle.

“A Poet’s Lamentation”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

“pardon my sorrow
and forgive my weeping soul
my humble supplication
loosed into the void on raven’s wings
to fall on deafened ears of fickle gods…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“Bus Stop” published at Hotel by Masticadores

Hi, friends. I want to let you know my poem “Bus Stop” has been published at Hotel by Masticadores. Many thanks to Editor Michelle Navajas for sharing this poem with her readers. Thanks a bunch, Michelle.

“Bus Stop”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

“she stood there
stoic and still
as a river rock cairn
at the crossroads
bus stop
every afternoon
alone
save for her
reluctant shadow
that always seemed
to pull away from her
clawing at the gravel
to unpin itself from this
dirty-faced girl
with willow whip arms
and a mangled knot
of corn silk hair…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“A Few Haiku & Senryu (63)”

© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

(#373)

burning stars
pinpoints of candle light caught
in her tears

…..

(#374)

in my sorrow
my words struggle to take flight
the empty page

…..

(#375)

in my quiet world
poetry exists not in my ears
but in my heart

…..

(#376)

children played here once
now only ghosts linger
this broken world

…..

(#377)

lock the temple doors
we mustn’t let reality
taint our holy minds

….

(#378)

our humanity
bleeds out in Gaza and Ukraine
just another day

“From Tsukiko, While Watching the Moon” published at Hotel by Masticadores

Hi, everyone. Just a note to let you know my poem “From Tsukiko, While Watching the Moon” has been published at Hotel by Masticadores. Sincere thanks to Editor Michelle Navajas for sharing this poem. Your kindness means a lot to me, Michelle.

“From Tsukiko, While Watching the Moon”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

I have waited long enough
among midnight forests
and somnolent bamboo groves
the furtive whispers
of pensive yurei
a forlorn supplication
to dissolve further
into the rayless world
of lost souls
to seek the sleep
of bōkyaku

cloistered among
susurrating reeds
I bathe my feet
in Sanzu’s nocturnal tears
adorned in fragrant
willow shadows
as koi drowse
in the depths of dreams
and kitsune slink
clandestinely
their night-thoughts
unfathomable…

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“Wildfire”

“Wildfire”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

nothing in life occurs
as it does in the
lyrics of songs
it’s all fantasy
all make-believe
carefully orchestrated
a plastic tableau
displayed behind
a plate glass window
look but don’t touch
lest the illusion shatter

her eyes were still open
when I entered the room
her body slowly
giving up its heat
the world had gone silent
save for my father’s
ragged exhalations
a blasted look
in his eyes
panic
dread
the weight of
heaven and hell
threatening to
crush him

there are protocols
for this sort of thing

my mind mumbled dully
lists upon lists
procedures to follow
and don’t skip anything
lest the facade crumble
lest all of creation
come to an end

I watched my hand
touch her wrist
warmth but nothing else
and a door in my mind
swung soundlessly
irrevocably shut
a box checked
I felt my hand
squeeze hers
no response
another box
another check mark
a window in my mind
battened
boarded up
permanently
and her eyes
dazed
tired
confused
staring into her
own private eternity
I tried to brush them
closed
like some celluloid hero
like someone who’s in charge
but they remained exposed
stubbornly resisting
my mind sputtered
clicked
observed
registered
a checkbox left empty
with only one remaining

I pulled the sheet over
my mother’s face
the final act
the list complete
my duty accomplished
my fate sealed

and my mind collapsed

I stood at my
bedroom window
as a misting rain
enfolded the earth
in a hushed dirge
a six a.m. requiem
an epilogue
to a life betrayed
a life cheated
my mother deserved
so much better
and the world
refused to move
its gears stripped
its dynamo fried
as the dawn
held its breath

the ghosts arrived
strangers in
bleak uniforms
muffled voices
latex gloves
clipboards
a gurney
uncanny inhabitants
of some other dimension
performing their
own obscure rituals
drifting room to room
in and out
covert thieves
stealing my mother

and still the rain fell

in my mind
a mantra arose
unbidden
urgent
inexorable
straining against
my temples
my eyeballs
my ears

my mother is dead

over
and over
and over

listen closely
the universe said
listen as you’ve
never listened before
because your life
your sanity
depend upon
this
one
thing
acceptance
now
or risk losing
yourself
forever

the words
pooled
eddied
in my head
swam like
mystical koi
gliding
in arcane murk
and I knelt
at water’s edge
gazing into this
saturnine mere
where my reflection died
and hope dissolved
and I drank
from cupped hands
and choked on
the bitter draught
of reality

and still the rain fell

there are woods
we dare not enter
treelines with teeth
green shadows
with poisonous
beckoning tendrils
restless copses of
voiceless supplication
leading us astray
from the path
numbness
timelessness
and nameless
plutonian pits
of despair
and despite
foreboding warnings
despite all that
screamed
to the contrary
I fled into this
grove of oblivion
where the darkness
promised succor
but instead
stripped me naked
gutted me
flung my entrails
among noxious thickets
and abandoned me
in a clearing
beneath an
eternally
moonless night
eldritch stars overhead
representing
obscene unknown
constellations
another place
another cosmos
another time

eyeless
voiceless
nothing left
of me
but my ears
damned by
deafness
weak
useless
my mother’s voice
no longer audible
her frequency
terminated
a static hum
where her
essence
should be
but I listened
anyway
strained to discern
her closing thoughts
her last whisper
her soul departing
but the only
sounds I heard
were the howl
of white noise
and the
wretched screech
of infinity

another mantra arose
this time a song
from years before
my mind a
musician’s mind
an artist’s mind
always seeking
the flow
the deep
slow currents
the steady stasis
of movement
the only balm
for my soul
a song of death
of sorrow
of loss
of seeking that
which can
never be found

my mother
lost in a June blizzard
chasing Wildfire

and still the rain fell

the sky cried
in my stead
my own tears
locked away
deep inside
far beyond my own
pathetic reach
the incense of
petrichor
and wet sage
lingering
settling upon
my skin
a patina of
unexpected
serenity
a cocoon
of protection
against a
reckless
arbitrary
God
an indifferent
heaven
the senselessness
of it all

weeks passed
but the song remained
and I clung to it
with all my might
I grabbed its reins
dug in my spurs
and rode it out
for all it was worth
for only it could save me
only it could deliver me
from the blackness
of that forest of torment

I said good-bye
to my mother on a
sweltering June day
my broken heart
buried with her
the burden
of her absence
carried with me
for a decade now
I kissed her forehead
gave her my parting gifts
three guitar picks
I love you, Mom
inscribed on each

and asked her
to wait for me

and when the
early snow falls
I shall chase
Wildfire
too

(Author’s note: This poem is inspired by “Wildfire,” a song by Michael Martin Murphey that helped me deal with my mother’s death in June 2015.)