THE MIRROR
I close my eyes and
picture myself,
when I open them
a stranger is looking
back at me.
Who am I,
really?
Poetry Drafts
FEB9TH2014
I’ve lived
I’ve loved
Shared laughter
and tears.
What more is there
to cling to when a
siren’s call is heard?
THE NEON OF SHANGRI-LA
The fireworks of vanity in their hearts, breaks the waltz of boredom.
In the womb of sin, the neon of Shangri-La, the bottomless swamp is filled with broken dreams.
Evil tongues, black as night, spreading laughter and lies through wind and demise.
Three dead moons at the the end of the dream. A women of power from darkness revealed.
RED
Red is the canvas on the easel
morbid thoughts painting blood.
Red stains on the carpet,
slowly drying, leaving marks.
Red fingers, I carry with me,
obsessive cleaning, to no avail.
Red stains on your sheets,
spoils our dreams of a child.
SILENCE
I would never be an anon
asking things of you
that I wouldn’t ask in person
face to face with you
thus silent – I remain
SAND BETWEEN MY TOES
The chosen diet of
Sauvignon Blanc and
chocolate were slowly
starting to make a
differences as I climbed
higher and higher into
the shadows where the
line between reality
and dreams begun
to look like the sand between
my toes on a sunny beach.
BUTTONS
I have buttons you know
and if you press them
in the right order I will
sing for you forever.
Continuously pressing them
in the wrong order and
I will slowly, and not gracefully
explode.
Till death do us part – it
could get messy.
Friday 13th 02.35am
Jason, Jason come out and play
Let’s take a bike ride
Down by the old canal
I cant, mum won’t let me go
Says I have to stay indoors
Jason, Jason come out and play
Let’s kick that football
The park’s not far away
I cant, mum won’t let me go
Says my legs are too brittle
Jason, Jason come out and play
Let’s go for a swim
Along the old lake shore
I cant, mum won’t let me go
Says I could catch a cold
Jason, Jason come out and play
Ignore here now and rebel
Againt her cottony ways
Okay, let’s go for a swim
Its freakish Friday
What could possibly go wrong…
@thatrandomprompt prompted me…
LA FEMME DRACULE
She sways her rounded hips around the ballroom, catching the attention of men in the mist. Their longing feeds her lust and the dividing frenzy becomes ecstatic as her eyes part from his, her smile widens and she kisses his neck.
WITHERING LOWS
Where is the line
you cannot cross?
To arrive at work
not recalling
how you got there,
or getting back home
not quite sure
which way you took?
Drunk from drink or
from overworking,
both can kill
but only one
will give you jail.
I cross the line – every day.