My dear, it rained last night
And I remember
The alleviated rise into
Lush sobs and lavish emotions
The way your dilatation relieves
Every worry and anxiety
But sometimes when we speak
A violent lie radiates
And last night you were naught
But an alienated virile sot
A view unholy I omit
I remember the tin roses on the tiles
Devastated, shattered.

Sometimes you hum
Your hands delicately miming secret memos
And I can see it in your eyes
Irises shining like teal devils
And the music carries you
White with adrenaline, pupils likes violists
Headwaiters lie, strumming tin violins
Their  alienated visions wilted with passion

I see the way she cleverly conceals
Lies as vows to you
A veil called "us" she puts on "me"
And I call for mutiny
But youth is vim, vim is now, and now is lies
Every hug from you is just a violet whim
In noisy rooms
My vision is misty
My aura dies little,

Oh if only you could realize your reign
You’re the master, the ringleader
But you’re lazy; you work without zeal, you’re idle and lazy
Eyes glazed, agile hands getting greedier

Have you ever seen
A dearer lion?
He roared, the lonesome rider
Alone, an alien.
Well sometimes you lie
And I dare to become
An oral denier
My radar detects one lie,
Then two...
You become red
Redder than a bloody lion's ear

Adieu, you say, with a gently undefined lilt
My tears speak more reality than your words

As I rest beneath a sturdy willow I dream of days long past,
Of long before my universe had veered from its straight path.
I have lived a life with happiness; I have no reason to complain,
But imagining things that could have been overwhelms my heart with pain.
I wonder if he'd be here with me, relaxing by my side,
Maybe we'd have children now, to fill my life with pride.
But in this life I'm here alone, lost love my one rergret,
And despite the grief it causes me, I pray I don't forget.
As I stare up at the swaying branches, I hum an ancient tune,
And though the words are long forgotten, the melody stays true.
I feel a breeze upon my skin, and the song begins to soothe,
Despite the choice I wish I'd made, I find comfort in one truth.
That dwelling on my past mistakes will never bring you here,
And that there's beauty in this world to find, even though you're never near.
I must focus on the subtle hope that joy will find me soon,
But before I start to crest that hill, I must appreciate the moon;
To humble myself enough to see the awe in my surroundings,
All the gifts this world provides, on display for us so proudly.

The gnomes sang and danced while the faeries all pranced
and the elfins got drunk by the fire
The pixies hummed tunes and got stoned on mushrooms
I can't remember what happened to the choir.

Sethark the lord of the dark was roused from his sleep by the din
the djinn in the lamp though he at first appeared camp
wished up the drawbridge and pulled in the ramp.

This gathering, like babies were safe in the glades
while Sethark from Hades was sharpening the blades.
But it all fizzled out when Sethark gave a shout
to a beautifully jewelled little lady
and they tarried away somewhere deep in the hay
and the result was a devilish imp of a baby.

The party goes on though the pixies have gone
because too many mushrooms had doomed them
and now they're doomed to the glens
banished from the fens
No longer to hum or strum on guitars
nor sing sweet melodies to the brightest of stars
sad tales are told by old faeries and gnomes
of pixies evicted from family homes
but they know in their bones that it should have been them in the glen
but say nothing of this thing
or bad luck they will bring on you.
The story that's told is quite true
Believe if you wish
and if you wish it
it's true.

awaken dreams devotion
the kindness of gentle feathers
a light bright from darkness
slicing the cold rectangular
glass vista of my hours ahead
like blades carving the snow

                           i listen carefully

            the graffiti rust
            truck hum
            heaving grit
            shaking upon tarmac
            wet reflections, right indicator
            engines steel splashes  brutally  entirely

where beneath the February morning
pulsing beside a stack of literature
from his arms to my hands
i stay a while in timelessness
to begin another chorus
inside myself open ( hot tongues, hands, back,
                           thighs, throat and mouth )
dripping of fire; color and warmth
of actuality in being alive
i don’t want to close my eyes
              ( i was craving the salt
              water and the fire of his core
              with my hands on his chest )
like the sea itself

to feel him real or see reflection of my blue
when the hard floor presses against
my knees where i kneel to wish in
the wet morning light
through soft feathers for kisses
and linen upon my throat
for an everlasting song
for him;
              humming, whistling
                            the linen, rising up
               the small
               voices


Copyright ©2013 Le Chat Noir. All rights reserved.

I'm in love with feeling down
The feeling stays through towns
I pass along the way
Each more beautiful than the last
All of the emotional nights have found
To be just as therapeutic as the sounds
That abound in my thoughts
As they race towards the past
Back to the future where they all merge
A keyboard circuit surge
An electric strum
A soul being purged
With the words I'll hum, tell, yell
But first let me ask
Do you have a cig I can bum?