Poetry by Tom Ward

      Nicolás Boullosa CC




​treehouse

the war of reality raging outside 
for a treehouse of safety we found some supplies 
wood and nails a ladder and glue
a secret place, no reals allowed, respite from death and booms  
the war had a lull you mistook for a peace 
i’m too old for this shit demolition commenced
we tore down the treehouse, there was no other choice 
it sucks with a grownup, wrong kinda noise
it’s no longer a treehouse with deadlines and budgets 
too old for this shit cuts both ways if you let it 
so i will dress as a child at least in my head
to be in a treehouse with just my good friends 
and the peace and the war, who cares of my take 
the only peace i have is the peace that we make

​
​

I (Tom Ward, sometimes credited as Thomas Ward) am a writer living in Atlanta, GA. I’ve written numerous plays and screenplays including International Falls which won multiple film festival prizes and is streaming on various platforms at various times. In 2019 I began intensive therapy to address my childhood trauma and addictions. Poetry became the only way I could write, photography became the only thing that could get me out of the house, and they have saved my life (along with the therapy).

---