Hear the drumming?

On point
Off note

No tea
No sympathy

Battle drum
Stratagem

Clouded
Shroud

A waving flag
A wavering comfort

Peacefully
Pierced

Sharp pain
Dull wound

Pretty house with a white picket fence and dethorned rose garden, the bread crumbs lead to selfish tendencies

Detach
Separate

"Cut the kids in half"

Part for daddy
Part for mommy

Let them cry themselves to sleep
The drums shall stop

Divided worlds
United cruelty

Bedtime
Bedlam

Rush of blood
Knives out

The drumming never stops
Sudden isolation swallows them whole...

~
We don't need
Other worlds
We need mirrors

We need thin waists
And a hysteresis curve
To the hips

Let us drink in the sea
And laugh as our number
Comes up

Let us commit
To be noncommittal
And talk nary a word

On age and death
Over afternoon tea
In the bright withered garden

Where the goodness of man
Longed to be more
Than its darkling reflection
~

“Once more unto the breach,” echoes from within.

Cast away your anxious thoughts, don’t let negativity breed within your skin

Only positivity from here on out, a new strategy for an old plan

You are the decider of your future, you are the eye of the beholder, will this break you or make you?

Only you will tell, though you are a quiet soul

Soak up the rays of the sun

Let the light fuel you in the hardest times

Remember what it feels like

For you are the quiet warrior, blood of your demons stains your sword

A savage for the good of all

Ghosts of the past invade gentle nightfall

Remember how you conquered, never faltered, and smile

The past can only persuade you to try harder, your demons are only your fodder

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,” gently slips through your lips

Your next war draws nigh; Blood drips from fingertips

You wear a flowing satin cape
Lined with brightest red
Your top hat is not really hollow
No matter what you said

You said it’s truly magic
You think we are insane
You do a little slight of hand
And call it legerdemain

But I suspect a shyster
Is hiding in that cloak
So I won’t choose a walnut
I don’t want to end up broke.

No matter how they switch around
The pea is never there
It doesn’t matter what you choose
You miss it by a hair.  

Most magic is a sucker’s game
That we all gladly play
The hand IS faster than the eye
It has to be that way.
ljm

She stands before the bathroom mirror
Creating several different faces
Tryng to find the one that doesn’t
Make her look so tired and old.

Some of them make her look ill
A couple more look silly.
The one she finally settles on:
A wan and disappointed smile -

Accepted as least ugly of the bunch
It’s not the face she’d hoped to wear
In this the Autumn of her life.
She expected some small trace
Of former beauty to remain.

She tried to make a little sparkle
To liven up her somber eyes
And find the muscle in her cheek
That lifts her lips into a grin.

A sorry rictus of despair
Was all that effort brought her
So she gave up and threw the switch
And slipped away in darkness
ljm

I know it’s hiding out there somewhere
That long sought after perfect verse
A silver dove that is a poem
And rides the wind on platinum wings
But I am blinded and I don’t know
The where or how to look for him.

I can hear his melody
And even catch a trace of words
But his glossary eludes me
And I can’t unlock the message

The pain’s a little bit like childbirth
I don’t know how to let it out.
I can’t pick up a razor blade
The need is more than only blood

Longing is a visual thing
Comprised of mist and foggy shadows
That render it impossible
To see a way to find that dove
The one whose tracks are etched in time
Across the sands of living
And the roadway to achievement

The struggle yet continues on
The beating in my weary chest
Is other than my  heart.
Another bird is trying to escape
It may not be the silver dove
But no one shuns a Robin

Somehow the vents are closed.
And little wings are growing weak.
It must not suffocate inside
Unsung, unwritten and unread.
                ljm

I only ever wanted
to sleep
for a thousand years tonight -
To awaken bathed
in the cool, blue light of the future
with its promised obsolescence.
I will embrace this since
the warm, yellow light of the past
has done nothing
but tell me lies.

Tell me lies.