Please wear a skimpy tank top,
In shades of grey as I prefer,
I so not beg but dream,
I dreamt of high-heels and
Tank-tops revealing mostly
Skin
.
Please then read the writings,
Upon the wall my words are true,
In black on white the words of you
& Us, no longer spoken in tune
.
Please write you words, a response
In kind,
& I will be here
Waiting
Aaaand it’s here!! Thank you all for the love and kind words on the trailer.
I am so happy to finally be able to share this with you!
Fourteen years ago I took a photograph of a person very dear to me. Later, seeing it on screen I knew I would one day use it as the cover of a book. Today I created that book cover.
I bear witness to a breaking, a parting of Friends. I bear witness to the uselessness of Witnesses to no end. I bear no grudge to either failures I see no crying taking place On either side of the arguments I see fools -- not friends
The Black Rose beckons me Like the Fiddler in the stream of old & the maple leaf flying in a distant breeze. Symbols of longevity, prosperity & Subtle truths I feel the calling of the wind Yet the love of the rose remains & With the fading Fiddler I cannot trust I waver about the paths before me Across the fields of dreams Nymphs of youthful juices roam In pursuit of hearts of eager young men Lost to unspoken dreams I was once lost; a man without purpose Once lost in the illusions of truth Truths now obliterated Truncated Stewed and steamed & Soon to be purged & cleansed from this Feeble corpse of manliness The Black Rose beckons me The Fiddler knows my name The Maple leaf … a wrapper at best For my final rest
I’m sorry for not taking the time & effort
To read your bleeding hearts’ outpourings
,,,
I am at present (& god for knows how long)
Unable to comprehend anything & …
Anything but the rising of the sun and the
Setting of the moon above
,,,
I am lost
Not part of anything that matters
Unengaged as far as engagement goes &
Unconcerned about all matters thereof
,,,
‘I’ve got to give it up’, Phil sang and
I found the evocation apt as it left to us
Interpret his intentions:
'Drugs’ most would say as he did his fair
Share of the bane of contemporary life
But I can see the other issues; the otherlife
And that broken string once strummed so
Hard
,,,
I’m sorry
I’m sorry to you as reader
I’m sorry for you the mother
Having to put up with a son so
Eager to stay away, to stay afloat
On his own; walking tall without having
Been born with a silver spoon
,,,
Comma Comma Comma
,,,
I’m sorry mother
I’m sorry that you will never read this &
Never know how it was to grow up
To be told to stay away from strangers;
Never to be told the truth of love
And the consequences of --Missing out
Signal Boost
I always feel like my prose stuff doesn’t get the limelight on here like my poetry does, so in a rather shameful act of self-promotion, I am linking several of my reblogged short pieces in this one post, hoping to get a few more reads…that is “reads” not just “likes”…I just hope it works, ‘cause every time I promote my own stuff I feel so dirty afterwards, lol
In search of olden days Of a younger I of which I dreamt I went off in pursuit To replace the doom I carried around inside me The corridors of power With a blazing gun in my hand Killing Nazis whenever found In search of olden days Of a younger I of which I dreamt The forrests of power now looming The call of duty of modern warfare Beckoning; so far no Nazis in sight Only death reoccurring -- fast
I shave my balls and wait for the
Penny to drop. The bouncing fires of
Hades matter, like time and the
Beating of hearts.I wear your earrings as a token,
Stolen; like the skin I broke as I
Pushed right through; I’m sorry.I walk in your shoes, high-heeled &
Covered with lipstick; bleeding.I am a vibrating pussy now; kneeling
I am so dripping wet; but for you I am just a
///
Special
///
Regret
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