Ode For A Disaster
O spilt milk,poor forgotten cliche
spreading across the floor
all fuming
angry at your owner,
who shed no tears for you
why become foul and spoiled?
truly yours is
an understandable dilemma
from a cabinet of many shards
that was not the first glass to break
but I am spongy soaking
meet me and be relieved
I will suffer through disasters
you will not be left on linoleum
I am spongy soaking
yellow and green is here to stay.
“l o w e r c u r t a i n”
"Enter into the mansion" your first action says
It's quite dark outside, I know
Don't hesitate a bit, at all
To make your dreary self at home
The butler'll welcome you with tea
The maid will heed your every wish
The children'll be your guide
And I'll be here always, so no need to hide
Don't venture anywhere in the night
After you've had your time with me
I love you, my darling
And hopefully, this warning you'll heed
We'll journey together into forbidden forests
Don't go on the darkest black path
The nightingales will sing a love song
As the mockingbirds mimic your cries of pleasure
We'll play together
Perform our script in this romantic play
And together we'll always be
Until I cast you away...
Until with you I'm bored
Tch, such a pushy, useless toy
I'll lead you onto the darkest black path
And feed you to the wolves
Ha!
I'll stain you with your own blood
Watch and cackle as the crows circle
Laugh and swing my legs as the mockingbirds
Mimic your screams of pain
Ask your questions and cry your words
I'll listen carefully and try to answer
With my own careful and beautiful lies
I'll twist the script to my own liking!
Play, rewind, repeat
This is our eternal play!
Until the curtain drops on our cheap show
We'll lavish in wine and sweets and lowly pleasures!
Then the clock strikes twelve
Your glass slippers turn to bloody stains
As I tie you up and laugh seeing you spread out before me
A flash of the knife and you're painted a brilliant red
I take out your heart and inspect it...
How quickly it beats, even outside your body!
Bite into it with fangs to make it stop
And relish the taste of fresh metallic
Flowers of evil and sin
Readily bloom
Filled with an opaque red
Glow of finest doom
But not for me, oh!
For my love, you!
today was a good day.
today my computer’s operating system decided that it would elope;
without me.
today i spent at least 12 hours trying to re-install windows.
the result of those 12 hours is a pretty boot-logo and a half-bricked laptop.
today my router died, and got to buy a brand new one.
a brand new one with the the same signal strength as my television remote.
oh, and i almost forgot!
today my bottle of jameson’s is fairly full.
today i got a free jar (for holding liquor?) from a restaurant i ate dinner at.
today i had a enjoyable conversation with an even more enjoyable friend.
today?
today,
i can finally see my love after so long!
writing.
War
I kiss the little boundaries on the edges of your softened ends.
Each line is like a poem in the motion of a song.
You sing sweetly of the soft caresses, and wash anew in the
bath of love that waves across your weakened resolve.
Then that turn that opens up the secret places of the little spots
that you hide so dear to prying eyes.
Only I can touch them now, those private places where none else
dare to tread in fear of retribution.
We take and give in equal measure, each seeking to fulfill his own.
There is nothing private in the hidden wars between.
You are my cat.
You
It was you all along
At least that's what I thought
In a song, as I sung along
How did we become,
It was you, our eyes met
Our hearts were together from
Sundown to sunset, it was you
Looking closely, or maybe it wasn't you, It was someone I thought I knew, you are not you, nor am I meant for you.
You are you, just look behind you and You'll see what was meant for you, I had a piece of you but you
Didn't recognize you
TurnKey
Turnkey, turnkey,
Spiral cogs in the lock
The purveyor’s shop of antiquities
Dusty shelves,
Lights dim,
The wooden clock goes,
Tick-tock.
Trolls of Nordic lineage
Parade behind the counter,
Frozen in time,
Their little faces possess secrets
Worth far more than any coin once tendered at the shop register, the old relic.
That noise..
It grows louder,
Haunting,
A row of Bisque dolls animate a wink down the line,
In their lace dresses,
Movements synchronous,
As the clock strikes three.
The shopkeeper rises in the backroom,
Among boxes filled with one man’s junk,
Another man’s treasure
The noise beckons..
Fumbling through the boxes,
Searching for its source, the sublime.
At last he finds it among the knickknacks and tchotchkes,
A vintage music box,
Vienna,
The 1920’s,
Another time, another place.
He dusts it off, gently
With a fine linen cloth
Ornate, opulent,
Golden-leaf to trim the most intricate detail.
The rattling noise screeches,
An unbearable cacophony
Reaching into his breast pocket,
He finds the answer.
The turnkey twists inside the familiar music box,
As it opens, the horrendous sound is muted, at last.
In its place rises the symphony of angels,
Two porcelain dancers on the platform stage,
The gentleman in fine waistcoat,
One hand caressing the small of the noble woman’s back,
The other entwined with her delicate fingers, painted with apricot lacquer.
Into the night, the lovers keep in step to the Baroque tune,
And the old shopkeeper, he remembers,
(tears glistening his pale cheek)
This music box,
An anniversary gift,
To his wife, in 1927
They had celebrated 50 years together,
That winter’s day.
A treasure trove of memories,
The music box a mere memento
Of a life well-lived.
Two hearts, two souls,
Beating in harmony,
Nurturing a family with love, wisdom, and uplifting grace.
Children, now grown, with children of their own.
Her face lit up with wonder and delight,
At the sight of this Viennese music box.
“A little something to remember us by, always,
As long as we each keep the turnkey by our heart.”
She passed away,
Nearly seven years later,
By the foot of the bed,
With the music box playing on the dresser,
Its enchanting melody.
The shopkeeper was sobbing now,
He cradled his love one last time,
Before placing the keepsake back in its box,
Where it will rest until the old wooden clock in the shop strikes three the next day.
Drifting past a bronze mirror in the storage room,
He noticed that it reflected only the shelves behind him.
For 87 years had past hence,
He was no longer there,
Only his spectre remained in the once bustling antiquities shop,
Rising each day at the bewitching hour. . .
When, somewhere in the Universe,
They embrace,
Both holding the turnkey close to their hearts,
Their love transcending all of time and space,
They dance, a Waltz eternal.
Nap
It's hard, you know. It's really hard.
I don't like it when your eyes are closed like this. You're so quiet... I want to hear you talking again. I want to hear your voice.
It looks like you're comfortable. Surrounded by silk sheets with a matching soft pillow, I'm jealous for a moment. But I wouldn't take this comfort away from you, I'd join you in it. I'd never take anything away from you.
I wish you wouldn't take from me either.
I mean- it's not your fault! I'm not mad. Things happen. I understand. Believe me.
Your makeup looks really good. You always forget to take it off when you sleep, but it never really smudges. How do you do that? You always surprise me.
My makeup might be smudging, now. I guess that's fine. I wore waterproof mascara today.
I always did cry at funerals.
I Stole The Silver Lining
Mister, Mister..
You and I have lived for 9 hundred thousand days
Half asleep
While the never in our forever was awake
I looked up into the sky this morning,
I saw a message had been traced
It read, “Don't, look," but I did,
Only to spy your cloud,with the silver lining, had begun to dissipate
I told myself it is the way of storm clouds
I danced off, praying for rain
My heart has never truly fancied the replacements
Once the new rolls over into the familiar, I wont let them stay
All the while they were there, Id sneak off into the open air
Always late at night, under the guise of a cigarette break
To stare up at the stars,
And make damn sure your cloud with the silver lining did not blow too far away
You are my King of Hearts, I play the Ace of Spades
Our roles intertwine so very well, so with the distance I am okay
I have no fear of losing you, I hold no anticipation for things to change
I am almost content with this love of ours,
So it must be my fickle ways,
That stole the silver lining from inside your cloud,
Made it all my own
And sent you into a fade.
Unspoken Limits
You
And I
Both know
What's going on.
Whether we are
Near or away
From each other
We are bounded.
Two poles
Alongside
A Flowing river
Our infrastructures
Are bounded
To the ocean floor.
Yet
We never touch.
We never cross
One another's paths.
So
I
Can
Reveal myself
I stay quiet.
For you talk
I listen
But
Do not hear you.
Because
Internally,
You are also silent.
Today
I see you
And you see me.
Together
We are one.
You step closer to me
As we are equidistant.
My eyes seek his soul.
Not his heart.
He looks at me
Compassionately.
Relentlessly
As I reach my arms
Towards his shoulders
And he guides his arms
Towards my torso
I strike him
With my blade
Across the back.
His eyes bewildered
Confused.
Before asking the question, Why?
I touch
His cold cheek
With my transmogrified palm
And kiss him gently.
As I spread my wings
I consumed his psyche
And traveled back
To my World
Of Unspoken Limits.