I had a talk with God last night
in shining hours beneath the moon
He told of his plans for me
we spoke of kismet, fate, and strength.
I talked to Momma yesterday
between drags of cigarette.
we talked of husbands and better things
she doesn't think I'll ever deserve.
I spoke with Dad this morning too
he needed money for rent again
I told him to go to hell and then
he cried and said he loved you still.
I talked to Dave from the coffee shop
he said you never called him back
I told him not to worry though
I lied and said you were working a lot.
I spoke to Ty on the street last night
he said you owed him a pretty penny
I knew it went to the hole in your arm
he slapped me good to send you a message
I had a talk with God last night
but you're not sober enough to care.
He spoke of mercy, love, restraint
I said, **** you, leave me, alone.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
What I know comes from the heart
You're torn away, a world apart
A cheesy line, a sudden thrill
casting shadows soft and still.
Aching, baking in the sun
wishing girl, thy will be done.
To have, to hold, I yearn to feel
a racing heart I can't conceal
I come to you so full of longing
craving something like belonging
Yearning for you from afar
your words are harsh, your ways: bizarre
Talented and slightly scary
hardworking, and always wary
broken family, has no home
part of me, yet part alone.
I have the snuggles and the kisses
a life that points to being Mrs.
A part I never want to play
From you though, dear, I hope and pray
You'll rescue me from this deception
fight for me and take direction
Fly away without the strife
fly away to a passionate life.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Once upon a day or night -- Wait, it was day, there was a light
a light, which shone upon a moonlit drive so dark and drear.
At keeping track, I'm sadly slacking. Forgive my memory, it is lacking
memoirs of this day of days I could not -- would not -- hear.
But now alas, alan, alack, something gruesome did attack, my dear.
Something's ugly head did rear.
Indistinctly, I remember, was it June? July? November?
Moments burn together as I recollect the fear.
And though he knows it gets to me, he will never set it free,
the truth of all the memories I used to hold so dear.
The truth you chose to hide from me for days, turned months, turned year.
But no, I will not shed one tear.
He held my hard heart high in flutter. Stomachs full of bread and butter.
Our love could not be jaded, for he traded tea from beer.
And though we were the oddest pair, I thought by now he would not care
how people chose to say their puns of nuns and hateful jeer.
Of wolves and sheep, of awkward sleep, of hunters hunting deer.
I thought we had our life in gear.
Sadly, though, I was mistaken. Blast, that awful wretch has taken
my whole soul and everything I previously thought mere.
He broke it off, and with a cough confessed, a darkest truth repressed
of everything, how twas a lie, and that the end was near.
And with four words, a looking glass of sorts he handed me to peer.
These the blue-eyed snake hath spoke: "Honey, I'm a queer."
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
A vulture of voluptuous
a curator of curves
he walks
and stalks
and talks
then balks
like I'm the one absurd
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
Tick Tock
Goes the glock
Must be time to pray
God ain't here
Ain't nowhere
Ends another day
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 2:23 AM UTC
With eager eyes and tempting smile, I beckoned 'cross the wharf
And they returned, a sad reply, stating he must morph
into a man -in pieces then- who puts things back together
Whilst I sit here, and wait and wait, and keep on till forever.
Kingdom comes, piggies fly, time churns soft and slow
Every hour, like the other, shuffling to and fro
Mind is racing, heart is beating, must be with him soon...
He is the sun, he is the stars, he is the solstice moon.
But he is full of hatred, and angry, scary things
That I cannot behold because my covered ears will ring.
I will not hear the wretchedness that billows from his mouth
I will not be the victim of intentions headed south.
Now he’s an angel, under God, and all the better creatures
that prize the gentlest, passionate, souls who mirror all their features. They never asked, only assumed, that I would be alright
But Oh! the torture over one who turned away from light.
So here I wait, on endless shores, until they come for me
Or maybe not, really, who knows, what lies beyond the sea
The water holds the untold words of thousands who've passed on
And here I am, scribbling the script, of stories before dawn.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Soft golden silk
streams down my face,
built strong and tall am I.
Embroidery feels like my skin,
deep amber in my eyes.
Dimples carve out of my cheeks
should I choose to smile for thy.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 8:57 PM UTC
Why do you do this?
Your Army of Nothings
Who lay in the sun
and are all but sweet
who swelter and sweat
in that fresh cut grass
mowed by a man
you can't hope to know.
And you,
you there, with the grin
Who's side are you on anyway?
What made you the prince
of the Army of Nothings;
The leader, the first in command.
You spout and you spit
that ******** and bare
your teeth at me like you're the bomb
dot com
You're such a disgrace.
parading around
with your head up your ***
"So what's new?"
Oh, shut up,
You can't even fill out your pants.
Why should I care for you,
why should I feel?
How will I ever come home?
Where welcoming words
and magical treasure,
and stories that never come true
but are good.
Where futures of light once reigned so supreme
I swore they would never run dry.
I thought you'd missed out,
you know, then and there,
of the life that we talked of in dreams.
No flowers and chocolates,
no diamond rings,
just love.
Made of stuff so much deeper
and denser
and finer
and lovely, and warm, and alive...
But it's over, and done.
and I can't have it back.
So I go on avoiding
the Army of Nothings
as they come marching in
marching in
one two, at the ready
I feel deep in my bones
that breaking and tearing
Help me, archangel!
Save me! You promised!
You said you would always be there
in that carved-out big apple
our home, once upon
when we laughed and were happy and good.
But goodness runs out.
You made that as clear
as a crystal that needs to be smashed.
And I did that, remember?
I left it all broken and you were so proud
So proud I had chosen
the right over wrong.
yet you overlook
all the splinters of glass
all there
all here
all lurking in me.
I don't want to cry
or beg or to fight
But I loved you in ways
that she found unacceptable?
So silly, so stupid,
so big that it keeps you away
*Not that I care very much
For your army of nothings
or things that remind me
of memories gone with the wind*
But I do.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC
Pale and swift the moorings lie:
Roosting on the masts were nye.
Peculiar was the indigo
in the water's moonlit glow.
The ship was ailing through the night
casting wayward, staggered light.
And oceanic tides were bound
to throw the ship into the sound.
But though the water pulled and fought
the Phantom ship could not be caught;
The cargo stayed and sat to mull
well within the sturdy hull.
It was a most peculiar eve,
though the average won't perceive.
The queer and devient, however,
noticed that the sky forever
loomed with great intensity
with clouds as far as eyes could see.
What secrets held this murky water?
Burning mysteries, growing hotter?
I was there, I hope you know
I have a ship, my own, and so:
remembering that eve's deception,
I take my boat in that direction.
Standing now to face the sea,
deciding where and whom to be.
For pale and swift the moorings lie;
Roosting on the masts are nye.
Distinctive be that indigo
in the water's moonlit glow.
Yet ** My schooner dipp and quaff
And with that, I must be off.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
You and I were different
From all the Other kids
You and I had demons
that the others never did.
You and I felt feelings
never hesitant to share.
you had Gall to say the thing
that I would never dare.
You laughed at my mock confidence
and saw right through my Show.
You showered me with compliments
that sent me all aglow.
I was a writer on the brink
of breaking down in tears;
You wrote songs that spoke about
my pain for all those years.
You watched me weary eyed and tired
when life would be me down.
You told me "Show your bravery
and get out of this town."
"Follow me," you murmured
"There's a peaceful world beyond,
free from all insanity
where we'd laugh and share and bond."
"Don't be Silly!" I'd reply,
dormant in a daze
I never thought, I never saw,
till you vanished in the haze.
Your funeral was touching:
A mirror of your presence
Your words were read--Your songs were heard;
You're memory's effervescent.
So here's to you, my fallen friend
I raise my glass in sorrow.
Because never will I say again:
"Oh, I'll tell him Tomorrow."
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC