Paul M Chafer: Favorites

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Emma Pickwick

Don't go kissing the sad girls
They pull you in and push you around,
Make you feel bad about the past,
Que sera, sera
But they won't take just that.

Don't go kissing the sad girls on Sunday night when you're freshly 21,
Free drinks are appealing and so are dark eyes and small figures.
There is a light in a shadow of mystery,
There is heat in a burning heart.

Don't go kissing the sad girls
When you got a good girl that loves you.
Cheap tricks and their crocodile tears are cute and innocent for a while.
Till they grab your face and kiss your mouth,
******* out your fidelity, what a shame, it was never the same.

Don't go kissing the sad girls.

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Love is art

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Emma Pickwick

Love is art

What can I give to you?
Transformed all my art into love.
I've spent all my time alone writing love notes in my head,
The highway seems so long,
Counting the miles back to you.

I've let all my paints dry and crack,
Letting the colours flood in my head,
Of red, orange, pink and green,
All the seasons I've let you love me.

My words have left the page and come flooding out my mouth,
Broken dams of broken hearts,
Keep you coming back to me.
You said where's the poetry? Where's the art?
I've left it in you.

In your passenger seat, the voicemails on your phone, our pets and our sheets.
I've loved you too deeply to write as freely as I once did.
The boundaries keep me in so tightly.
I'm happy to stay where you want me.
I've said I've got galaxies inside me,
You said show me.

I do in time, more everyday.
Even If it's not on paper or canvas.
I give my art in the form of love.
I love you more, every day.

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

It was fun and then it hurt

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Emma Pickwick

It was fun and then it hurt

I liked you in the center of town where the cars rushed by but we sat in silence.
When my 18 year old body left class early to meet you at your favorite bar.
I liked you when you bought me coffee and took me to charity shops and we'd stare at all the books and records for an hour.

I was 20 years younger, I was so in love, I was a secret.
You were in the palm of my hand, and It was my favorite feeling in for world.

It was fun and then it hurt.

When you pulled away from my heart
The calls were less frequent,
I said "*******"
and tried not to think about it.

But I haven't forgotten.
I still get sad.

That you're in love and I am not
That you are happy and I am not.

I still miss you even though you didn't love me.

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Lol byeeee

Mar 2016 Paul M Chafer

Emma Pickwick

Lol byeeee

So ******* cute the way you move,
Like a wave in the sea,
Onto the next shore until you drown it,
Just like you did with me.

Fill 'em up with lies until they're gagging and gasping,
Talk them to the edge until they're finally relapsing,
Back to old habits and old songs that mock their cries,
Got them thinking they're going crazy, but it's you in their life

Tell me again, how you're just checking up on me,
Coming to see if I've been thinking logically,
Have I been thinking about you?
Have I written about you?
This one or that?
Let's make this sweet and soft,
Yes.....now *******.

Quick ****** write, my fave.

Jan 2016 Paul M Chafer

A COLLABORATION, ELIZABETH WOLF AND JOSEPH PARIS

Jan 2016 Paul M Chafer

Joseph Paris

A COLLABORATION, ELIZABETH WOLF AND JOSEPH PARIS

Muse of a new day, how is it that you are the way you are? -- feeling so much,
so that you may wish not ever to feel, as if you were not the one chosen,
still dressed in a cloak of a million lights.

But I claim that is what makes you brilliant, though feeling does not save.

You can travel all the way to Mars,
digging up the waters of your sub-consciousness to serve as your thoughts.
Please, don't plead to the skies and lead your life astray,
looking at constellations too long might make you want to stay among the grey.

You and I, we’re not so different.

Too long have I lingered in studies of the stars
and missed the comrade human hours.
Sad as the monotone of the sea, I tossed away the stone of my powers.
And now, as I weightlessly wing amongst the churches of my nameless city, I see it all so clearly:

The monotony voices the unspoken plea,
of a life better lived than pondered,
better felt than conquered.