There were compatibility issues
and too much drink
The desire to escape
when rooting would have helped
You spoke with your mouth and
I heard voices in my head
disjointed messages coming
from the dead
Though you were the gifted one
the fickle gods curse
you gave up your life’s purpose
in search for normality
in your own words
The story was a simple one,
fit to be read to a child,
but it ended with a cat running off
into the woods never to return again.
The story made him sad so sad, he
didn’t want to hear it no more. He
told them so, in words and with
tears, time and time again, to no
avail.
The scars still itch, deep down
inside, but scratching’s not possible
now. He’s given up hope on finding
the cat, but the bully is dead,
thank god.
The line is fine
between mad and
divine and yet there is
space for all to reside
between opposite
sides through
limits of mind
crossing the line a
second nature of mine
Today
I only want
short words
like those
in children’s books
if you can’t make me
understand
then maybe
you shouldn’t try
at all
Tomorrow
may be different
a saga I might like
or poetry in motion
a short story
your words’ delight
For days that
follow after
those mentioned
here above
I cannot say
for sure but
keep on talking
and I will
surely yield
Would you worry if I switched my phone to mute
Left you wondering how I was
If I managed and if I coped with it
Would you worry if I forgot the day of week, the week, the month, the year
Left you wondering where I was
If I struggled up the hill or not
Would you worry I left them all behind
Shut the door and turned off the light
If I carried on or not
Love, oh love
so grand
the night before the morning sun.
Mayhap did mead cloud my heart
or not
yet to decide.
No coin left
my pockets all empty
must have had a helluva of a time.
Still asleep beside me
never before seen
a stranger, vaguely resembling a female from yesterday’s dream.
Not much left of her
all transformed
morphed into something new.
Sparkling blue eyes
removed
lenses floating in a cup nearby.
Curly hair
soft as silk
detached and hung beside the bed.
A bosom to die for
attached to the bra
now embracing a plant afar.
Kissing her goodbye
an option indeed
with dentures removed
I give it a miss
I need mead
I need mead to cleanse my heart
I need mead
I need it now
I would snog a tree
if it had your lips.
I would risk a few splinters
if it had your thrust.
I would cut it down
and set it alight
just to feel your fire
next to me.
Is that love
I ask thee.
forty-five degrees
fever of death
no strength
no desire
no breath
not apologizing
I bite your shoulder
excitement taking over
sorry
curls on skin
skin on skin
skin cover bones
bones hide beneath
slippery when wet
I slip
excited and breathless
apologizing wordless
your eyes
tells the story
no words are required
your tremble
your shake
your smile
I awake
Upon the path of the lesser knowing, wind chill roaming and icicles forming, the whores are out tonight.
Beyond the realm of reason, insanity rules the world, with the false and the fake and the great pretenders, prayers for guidance are heard.
The sole survivor ponders and preys upon the weak, the lame, the rotten and the stink, the shadows of solitude are real.
With a sigh, and without hope, I close the door and weep.
