I'm the "crazy lady" here in town
My long skirts and big hats seem to frighten
My eyes are too big for my face,
I'm well aware
But, I paint them anyway
I can't leave
I drink too much
Think too much
I lie about caring what these people think
I care
It hurts
The things they say
Odd
Strange
Crazy
Insane
*****
They say
"What? She knows no other colour than black is in existance."
"Her family have their money from shine."
"Her nans is Cherokee. Red skinned. And she dyes Her hair, I've heard."
I'm the crazy lady
I look away.....

top of the heap
you are King
and along comes someone to show you a thing
a new way of doing what you have done for years

at first, you judge him by his looks, only,
his long hair his ragged jeans
his sandals and ***** feet
his passivity his long beard

and he looks preoccupied
taken away by drugs or drink
his mind blown by crack
**** or LSD

he seems to hover so slow so deeply
occupied in a world he made for
himself burnt out we
used to call it

then when the day is over and you look
closer at the results and not the
scruffy exterior
you see he outdid you

and you have been the
King for thirty years
knew it all
you thought you were sure

and here this man rides in
on a stinking mule
in sandals looking like
a beggar

and changes every ******* thing?

Did you find me, did you find me
In those silver-wrapped dreams of yours?
Did you hear sound of angels
Knocking on your door?

Or constant storms of invasion
Screaming through the glass
And I'll be there waiting
With my widows en masse.

She took your hand and went down
To the crowds of crows wailing
And you weeped like never before
As your tender eyes froze.

So beat me up and turn me down
Dunk me in the river and turn around
As your fate lines up your face
And wraps you in lace-
Black lace.

You walked out of the steam
And saw your reflection in the blood
Did you forget that this is a stupid dream and that your new life was a dud.

You devils better beat me up and turn me down
Dunk me in the river and turn around
As my fate lines up to my face
And wraps me in...
Black lace.

Hell-bent widow.
Black magic woman.
Haunted shaman.
Disturbed angel.

She'll wrap you up and wreck your world with black lace.
Black lace.

The devil resides on a fence post,
covered in honeysuckle and black berry vines
Across the dirt road in front of my house
He squats there,
atop that post
With his beautiful grin and blue eyes
He has demples when he smiles,
and hair the colour of hay
His voice,
is that of silken sin
Offering up a drunkenness that the finest of whiskys can't give
He drowns me in satin,
posing promises never kept
He bruises peaches,
and feeds on flames
Beckoning my flesh,
with the sharpest of silver blades~A

What does it mean to be

inhaling oxygen
breathing life
into my weary being,

culpable to my constant
throbbing consciousness
as intricate webs
that were once woven
into my mind
crumble to
the onslaught of time?

What stories could be told
about the needle in
the metal garbage bin
in the gas station bathroom,

about the thin
brown skinned
woman
rolling up slow
as I ride my bike
while getting soaked
in the pouring rain
after eleven P.M.,

about the misconception,
the keys clutched in my
tense hands,
a heart of suspicion
that never becomes reality,

about the uncertainty,
if I should be at ease
or stand tightly on guard
while strangers watch
and walk around me,

about the social programming
that even though I know exists
still affects the way I react
more frequently
then I care to admit?

We split the spiral,
shifting the helix,
and damaging what
shares the genes
between us.

We cut the chords
that stand and support
all that we are
and all that we were
with broken atoms
and mushroom clouds.

We radiate violent waves
of atomic hate
that breaks our DNA.