He did not wear a scarlet coat
But still my blood runs red
All my blood that was on his hands
When they found him with the dead
The poor dead girl he hadn't loved
And murdered in her bed.
He walked amongst the Senior Class
In a polo shirt of gray
No hat was placed upon his head
But his step was light and gay
But never once did he need
To look wistfully at the day
Never did they see him look
With a sad and wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
That we dreamers call the sky
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by
I walked with no other souls in pain
From friendship ring to ring
And was wondering if anyone knew
What he had done to me
When a voice behind me whispered low,
"Is he dating her now?"
Dear Christ! The very high school walls
Suddenly seemed to reel
And the ceiling above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steal
Oh how I was a soul in pain
But my pain they did not feel
They did not know what hunted thought
Quickened my step and why
I looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye
He had killed who he said he loved
Yet he did had not to die.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look
Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young
Some when they are old
Some strangle it with hands of Lust
Some with hands of gold
The kindest use a knife because
The dead so soon grows cold
Some love too little, some too long
Some sell and others buy
Some do the deed with many tears
Some without a sigh
For each man kills the thing he loves
But this man did not die.
who lies spread
on the bed
concerto number 2
that would do
first the blouse
the pink one
she had bought
that first date
next the skirt
the jet black
then the bra
lets it drop
now she stands
the spread of
the two thighs
the two soft
of her birth
of Eve land
like some cat
on all fours
her tongue out
the two thighs
her two paws
and soft claws
the big breasts
as her lips
move in there
to that hot
to the cries
do not stop
do not stop.
Fly away sweet butterfly
you don't have to give yourself away
to anyone on this day
don't you know
you shine like the sun
even though you feel undone
wrecked by passion
wrecked by love
follow that sweet white shining dove
it's just ahead
up in the sky
just keep soaring
way up high
fly away sweet butterfly
be safe and free
keep your good nature
can you hear the monotone rumble
ringing in my head?
it creeps its way through my bones
an echo of all the things that i could have said.
my shattered jaw line outlines all I’ve suffered
and what’s left to come.
the bruises layered onto my skin
are only the reflection of a long night of regret.
imprints of recurring dreams
and stones left unturned
impressions are digging at me again
they don’t know what i truly am.
build yourself a little empire
to protect your stuttering ego
i will be the flame to start the forest fire
it won't be such a shame to see you go
do you recognize the stench that fills the air?
that’s the smell of a thousand burning forests.
you can hide behind your walls in shambles,
losing everything you thought you ever had.
but me? sweetheart, i’ll be doing just fine.
roaming the earth, spreading the seeds of regrowth.
positivity and its fine little hairs
prickling at the sight of someones skin
you just so happened to fall in love with
but they’re not really there,
darling, you made it all up inside your head,
among the burning flora of a million sins
you would think you would have learned
the fifth time around
but perhaps you never really cared,
blisters where the shackles of lust had you bound.
you’re seeking definition
thinking it’s buried deep in the neck of others.
you bury your lust in the sheets,
transforming casual conversation into white noise.
you’re foaming at the mouth and your pupils dilate
waiting to strike and tear your next victim apart.
like a succubus, you linger in the shadows
twisting and turning your way through
the wide open doors of the unknown
you sink your teeth into your prey,
suck away their sympathy
and leave them breathless,
hollow and taciturn.
i watched you slip away
deep into the arms of others
slowly declining as your breathing grows heavy
your body becomes a warzone
those who have traveled it before know,
you’re not the same as you once were,
and you never will be again.
what will you do now, with your claws at the ready?
will you tear them apart, or yourself first?
be sure you get the order correct
you are not the seamless dress you slipped off
before you made your way under the sheets
you are the breath that expels from your lungs
when you finally see your reflection
and you are not what you once saw
your lips curled back into a snarl,
your fingers bloodied and cracked
your eyes void and black
not once will your prayers be heard.
i caught myself wishing you back
finding myself buried in delusions and heartbreak.
you should’ve just said “i never loved you in the first place”
but that would’ve just made things simple.
simplicity was never an option for you.
everything had to be a challenge,
because that’s how your entire life was.
abused by your father, channeling the hate of your mother
there’s nothing you would do just to form stability on this
tattered and beaten ship you call your life.
where will you go now,
that your ship has sunk?
what paradise can you seek
without the stars to guide your way?
they will not shine for you any longer,
the darkness is now your only friend.
and to you, directly to you,
where do you hide your heartbreak?
can we build a fortress strong enough
to hold our heads high
through the pasts empty threats?
our towers were built alongside the shoreline
shining light to those who passed by
in hopes that they wouldn’t just avoid us
our intentions were pure, but our actions were contradictory
we can’t accomplish anything if we don’t know how to.
did the ocean wash it away?
or is it still standing, pure and tall.
everyone can see you sparkling there,
your light runs through your veins
where your blood is supposed to be.
all along the watchtowers
we hide our emotions, like treasure
to be found by a lucky passerby.
whoever ventured into what we’ve built would find
everlasting love and emotions too strong to perceive.
we just pray that whoever finds them doesn’t sell them off to another.
crystalline passages to our hearts
shattered by a beating drum
they collapse and collide
our minds lost to the debris
love is a storm at sea
leaving me lost and alone
surrounded by something
I thought would never hurt me
and your cyanide lips
burnt in a way
that I could never resist
addictive wounds, inflicted by you
love is a quest of who can win
your heart first
me or him?
I'm losing, I'm falling behind
love is a game of how many
can you lead victim
to your locked up heart
but open lips
so free willed, so meaningless
each kiss to you
is nothing more
than brushing skin
each kiss to me
is a painful sin
like letting myself in
to Hell's open door
it is like opening the walls of my heart
making myself your willing victim
allowing you to make your way
and tear out all my vital veins
so that I feel nothing
nothing but you
inside of my heart, blood and being
but that's nothing new
your nonchalant ways
are driving me insane with
sadness, happiness and jealousy
the rage and fire of your being
the only thing that occupies
my mind and my heart
and I will tell you just one more thing
I wish I was inside of you too
how the years have flown.
I’m blown away
by these few gray hairs
popping up on my head.
Does anybody care about
the loss of two of my best friends
or that I still have hair?
I do care about humanity,
my long lost dogs, and
my mind’s a bit foggy (sometimes),
but what do you expect?
I’ve been infected with love
a few times,
that makes you lose
bits and pieces
of your passionate-mind!
It seems the memories
grow like wild grass these days,
they flow like a strong stream,
but I have no regrets!
No, really I don’t!
No regrets, just more dreams!
Why won’t you believe me!?
Is it in my written word,
do you feel my angst,
breathe this loneliness?
Can you touch my broken heart,
do you have the same wanderlust?
O but I must write!
I’m driven to
get it all out,
a bit of a legacy!
O I know,
I’m not a William Wadsworth,
a Maya, an Edgar, an Emily
nor a Jack Kerouac!
In fact, I’m really a nobody.
I’m just your simple,
run-of-the-mill kindred spirit,
sojourning like you,
learning about the cold hard facts,
the facts of a life lived to the fullest.
And, I ain’t done yet!
substitute your blades with butted cigarettes
and watch the blisters seep their diluted pus
let the scars heal, sure
but you still haven’t found the cure
love is a sick mixture of
obsession and adoration
such a matter-less composition
i am unsure of
an honest explanation
we lack understanding of the true meaning
behind sweet nothings you whisper tenderly in my ear
all i do centers around you,
you are my sun the light in my world
but it’s been getting dark lately
when you hide from me behind the shadows
and the darkness creeps quietly behind me
it’s gotten so hard to let it go
I try to pick up where we left off
I miss the sunrise that peeped through my window
while i lay in your bed
Next to you i feel at home but now a days
your shoulder grows cold
just like my heart when you
turn away from me
and your back is pressed against my front
but i still feel your heartbeat
thump thump thumping away
but it don’t thump for me, no
No, for me it goes still
indifferent to my presence
I mourn for the connection between us
the light that has long since died out
I am shrouded in doubt
you had a hot, sweet taste to your lips
that i got too wrapped up in
it plagues me at night
right before i fall out of consciousness
only to visit me while i sleep
leave me in peace.
It started at the beginning of adulthood
where the wandering into the new house
became a chore. The doorway greeted me
by snagging my woollen jumper.
The motorway was screaming, the battered gate happily hanging from its hinges.
His image first flashed into my sight,
And when I stared through the fogged up windows
I could still figure out his figure.
Loutish, he sauntered past
On a hillside, desolate.
He didn’t move for three hours.
He was most probably entwining the thorns from the bush
into his complex mind. Maybe
the boy with the thorn in his side
Had been brought to life by this mystery animal
With a mass of unkempt mane.
Unruly, unnecessary, untouched.
The notebook on my kitchen table lay untidily
waiting to be roughened up. I picked it up
and cast light over the paper.
I imagined him doing the same
But his art was thunderstorms
And mine merely a drizzle of rain.
I made progress
and the flowers were growing from my fountain pen.
Confidence developing, I invited him inside
And there were still no words from his unfathomable jaw.
A month later, we became one
and I still didn’t know where his intentions were lying.
I’m a girl afraid, does he even have any?
Ink pot after ink pot
I ran even further in this marathon of confusion.
I slowly slid from his dismissive grasp, his matted paws light
I had drawn graffiti over his portrait.
a permanent marker changed beauty into art.
I crept before his wake, into his sleep
And his lyricism lay imbibed in the walls, the desk, the door.
I felt the gale force energy cry inside
Which erupted like a volcano, turning remnants into ashes.
Face down, mane rough, scars bright, fur singed
In the morning, I lifted his heavy paw away from me
And placed it peacefully beside him.
I based my poem upon my hero Morrissey (Duffy seems to write her poems about significant historical/well-known figures or fairytale characters) because him and the Smiths have kind of been a form of escape for me recently. I just thought it would be nice to write about him, even if it was harshly, but that is Duffy's predominant style.
Drivin' in my car
Damn near cut me off
Now you're in the fast lane
So you better not slow me down
And I refuse to change my direction
So you best make up your mind
Before I get caught in the intersection
And blinded by traffic lights
Said that we'd make signals
Get right or get left
Don't seem like you're ready
So just get out of my way
Said that we'd make signals
Get right or get left
Don't tell me you're sorry
So just get out my lane
Slowin' me down [x2]
And now we're moving faster
You're catching up to speed
And yes your car looks good to me
And you know it, don't try to speed off
Like I ain't teach you, well you know
Are you ready for the open road
Slowin' me down [x2]
Warning signs were there, but we never cared
So we crashed and learned a lesson
And to take care of the damage
We need to admit that accidents happen
So if it's cool with you, I'll just be on my way
Literature lulled the longing; left some life.
Eliot spoke of hollow men that could be mutilated but whole. Tempting!
Auden lamented that despite the wish to turn back time we cannot stop clocks,
Volatile as we are: love does not last forever.
Every word etched upon the page made me realise I was not
Miss Haversham; but in my pusillanimous dress I kept close
Every touch and promise, and the deepest secret nobody knew.
Heaney enticed me with warm thick slobber; yellow in the sunshine, but
Eyes not mine own met me in mirrors and I felt sad that
Reality is not a poem, or a piece of prose and despite looking deeper
Each desire reflected back at me were ones I dare not meet in dreams.
Tennyson's Lady of Shallot weaved its magic but not enough for you to keep an
Old wife. I lost my glow, although even now, my lights still twinkle on dark nights in
Dicken's London. Red lights in dark doorways telling tales of a wronged
Rebecca, Jane or Moll all with different dimensions and
Each with her own story to tell, like me,
Although none of it really matters in the end does it?
Maybe now it is time to yield.