He has a she, a her, a heart not mine
I could not keep his ego fed
Sharp jagged words, on black and white pages
Here is where the story bled

Love is truly canny,
Rages like a storm,
Quiet as a millpond.
(On a still day, for sure)
Twisting and turning,
Tugging us here and there,
Turning us inside out,
Laying us low, flying high,
Departing, returning,
Cursing and praising.
The perfect love, hah!
Matter of perspective,
Where we are in life.
Love is linked with time,
Time is a fickle *****,
Turning on us unexpectedly,
Just as we have it all wired,
Running out on us,
Leaving in the blink of an eye.
(Why bother? Hmm, anyone?)
Well, we choose to bother,
Just because love is good,
For some it is all there is,
Why else are we here?
If you have love, so lucky,
Cherish, cuddle, hold,
Tomorrow is another day.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

It was aboot ten miles away from your fate,
when Taco bell and pigs decided to gang up,
and you didnt realize it till it was too late,
Oh, you knew what you had did,
trying to pour back what is already drank,
like winning the lottery, only to realize there is no money in the bank,
The Mormon Virginia City had struck again,
and took me down to a feeling of a non-man,
where the screaming, the anxiety and the screaming anxiety all met,
the moment you realized you lost the bet,
between you, the devil, the universe, that one friend, the boogy man, God, and the lady down at the farmers market,
you are an easy target,
with a tough bullseye,
and a sly,
liar's smiling lips,
it wasnt till that cold floor touched you,
and your mind's lack of institutional control,
had been realized,
life had surmised,
that the chances you had were faulty tests.

Big John had taken your car with vanity plates,
a joke you want to tell your mates,
but realize the build up is all wrong,
he was the picture of a folk song,
but withoot the music and any good lyrics,
a tow truck mentioned in poems you have never heard,
telling him to hold onto that paper you signatured,
"You're going to famous like everyone else when they go?"
"I wont, but  I'll be nice in the poem everyone will know"
He laughed and kicked you out.

A new song that has a ****** tune,
starts to sound nice soon,
and you will appreciate it by your life's noon,
rough memories turn into life lessons, that turn into rough memories,
but you dont know you are in an ocean till you passed some seas,
so you drive away from the  town that built the great ****,
with a face of weather, guilt, and an unknown nostalgia for the future.

I've said goodbye at bus stops
In coffee shops, on planes.
In broken down hotel rooms
and in sudden summer rains.
I've said it without speaking
when I could not find the words.
In parking lots, at funerals
and to the song of birds.
When forced to without meaning it
I've even said it too,
but the hardest thing I'll ever do
is say goodbye to you.

Your death was an easy escape.
You drank the depths of your despair
And drowned.
Not brave enough to be called suicide,
Doubt you even intended to die.
I care little.
Though so did you it seemed -
Not only for yourself
But for the lives in your hands
Of strangers and your own creations.
Depressed they said,
drugged up;
My sympathies
Have boundaries.

You latched onto innocent bystanders,
Tied ropes to their legs and locked them to yours.
A lead weight,
As you drifted to your demise.
Your lungs went dry and your eyes went blind,
Never to face
The consequence
Of all you left behind.
You did not watch as they struggled to stay afloat,
But I,
With my pure and petrified eyes,
I watched as they almost drowned.
Pulled down with your worthless body,
Helpless to set them free.
My hands were too tiny to untie ropes that you burned into skin.

The hate runs deep in the water,
and the ripples are forever carved in cement,
So how can you be granted forgiveness
When you’re not even here to repent?
What you did was ******.
You stole lives,
And left lives,
Now forever tied
To the weight of your careless mistakes.

The last time I saw you
You brought Toffee
Purple daisy, red lilies
Stinky Missy and daffodils’
You put them in the vase,

I panic and said “who die?

We were stunned
and asked each other: Why now?
After all these years

Truce!
Love has not any pride
Ten years together
We never spoke
For goodness sake!
Can’t you see I am trying my best:
woman!
Stop you *******,
you had *** with my sister!

Personal Tragedy has also been
My greatest form of entertainment.

When I was younger
I used to take apart
My retractable pens,
Just so I could put them back together.

I am no different with myself.
But I might have lost the spring.