Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
We trace back our origins
As we breath in the toxic halogens
Time and space are deteriorating rapidly
And I’m losing all sense of me
Everything’s becoming intertwined
Nothing is easily defined
The lines are blurred
I do not know what has or has not occurred
I experience past present and future as one instance
My mind offers no resistance
I have become a conduit for all creation
Through that I have found salvation
A new cast invokes memories of the old,
The way that a spring fragrance echoes a past bloom.
I am afraid that I’m getting ahead of myself,
But I’ve always been a glutton for abuse.

The dance is strikingly similar but more fluid,
The way that a musician’s fingers dance over favored tune.
I fear that the ease comes with practice,
And pray that it's from something more meaningful.

The audience whispers musings and concerns,
The way a child doubts the mother’s monster search.
I ignore them and try to put them out of my mind,
But cringe as I feel their ideas fester.

The dancers go on oblivious to the world,
The way animals follow instinct in their hunt.
I am reminded of one thing, I never wrote a love poem,
Not even for her.
Maybe
You will walk in
with a dozen pure white
roses in your hand,
freshly picked from
wherever roses grow.
And you will smile
without showing your teeth
or saying a word,
leaving me speechless
as well.
But after a moment
I will say hi
and blink back tears
that fill to the brims
of my sad, weak
eyes.
You ate your obsession. You had some kind of oppression. Like the baby bird, pushed from it's nest. I picked you up. Brushed you off. Took you in. But your broken bones, I could not mend. How was to watch you heal? When you wanted to break, apart the shell. The one you once hatched from. I kept you away, from the poison, Growing near the grave of your past. But you'd always drift. Back to what broke you. I cannot stop, the breaking of your bones. I can only feed the mouth of your heart, until you stop walking, on those shallow stone waters, where the rocks are sharp, and the current, can always scoop you up, and pull you under. Take a deep breath, because I cannot breathe, the breath that once made you whole.
Walked in like B flat
Slow music playing
Heels clicked like staccato
Dress cello imitating
Blue notes sunken
Drunken with the motion
Of the left right sway
Spin, dip, heads floating
River more than ocean
She never stands still
She don't shoot the breeze
Heart-breaker, shoot to ****
Then she transposed the thrill
B harmonic minor
Tango, stomp, clap
Somebody shot the dress designer.
Violence in the night
Gasoline on the floor
Swift step matchstick heels
She adores the
White
Light
Like coconut cream
Musicians bathe with the moon
Sleep with its beams
Play until the world
Seems to burst at the seams
Set fire to the rivers
Inhale the steam
Descend with the fifths
Never rest on a trill
Cut the drums, spotlight
Let her transpose the thrill
My adopted metaphor "Transpose Thrill"
Deep, dark and numb inside
My broken thoughts fall like pieces of shattered glass
Crashing at my feet with the rest of my world
Scarring up my skin as they drop
Forever marking me as something obscene

                                                                              Locked away pain,
                                                                            Makes the best smile.
                                                                         I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                           Leave you untouched.


While shaky fingers stitch me together
Pills make pain fade like magic potions
A wonderful shade of grey settles in my brain
The best I can hope for, all things considered.

                                                                           You’re really trying,
                                                                              I guess I will too.
                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                         Leave you untouched.

Tempting old habits make my skin itch
Pleading the best kind of medicine
The pain that will send me high out of grey
But under watchful eyes it’s pointless to dream

                                                                     You’re sounding so happy,
                                                                        How can I not be too?
                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                        Leave you untouched.

My rolling stomach won’t stop yelling
My racing thoughts won’t slow down
I could use a dose of you more than ever
But instead I’ll swallow hard and try to sleep

                                                                       I’ll smile for you always.
                                                                       I’ll leave you untouched.
                                                                       Safe from my madness.
                                                                       Safe from my hang ups.
In the time of the Caesars
The Emperors played god-
although some of them were
most exceedingly odd.

The man on the street,
was dependent, for bread,
on the grain dole that started
ere Julius was dead.

The unemployment problem
in Rome was severe
- at recessionary levels
for year after year.

How to keep happy
those unemployed masses?
Put on a circus
and give all free passes.

There were Lions and Tigers
and men with black faces.
Gladiators were drafted
from men of all races.

Roman blood lust was sated
with violence and wine
and all went home content-
having had a good time.

That which made Rome great
by then was a memory .
But, thought too big to fail,
Rome didn't lack for an enemy.

There's a lesson for us
in that circus and wine.
Empires fall
and its just about time.
It’s thought provoking
and emotion evoking
I feel like I’m choking, {Heimlich}
Truer words have never been spoken
by a dancing mime with only one leg.

Minds have reeled
Fates have been sealed
Unknowns become real
It’s a negotiated deal  made by some lawyer with a soul.

Tragic, Comedy- Tragicomedy
Shipping-handling. As seen on TV.
What’s the cost of free ?
Nothing comes really, with a money back guarantee.

Wash, rinse,  repeat.
Operators standing by- keep your seat.
Stay out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat.
And know your victory isn’t over defeat.

Miller time- the best time of year
But I’ll never need another beer,
My life’s so complete when using Tampax.
The latest miracle cure is as safe as anthrax.

Who has time these days for voting, when I feel the blight of bloating ?
There are no important politics or elections.
When I have four plus hour erections
but I bet my doctor won’t be the one I decide to consult.

>>>>>
Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.emotionalorphan.net.
My passion as a writer
Mirrors that of an exotic dancer
Although I may have left my tassels at home
I can still strip bare with haikus and metaphors
Slip some encouragement under my tight ribbon of
Literary control
How do I keep all of these soliloquies from spilling out of
My naturally buoyant...thought process?
By making sure each piece keeps you coming back for
More
Next page