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Everything my new friends say
Is drowned out by a light rain
While the acid on their tongues
Starts to pull each of them away

They'll be climbing trees all ****** day

DJs playing on the beach
With sand settling beneath my feet
The ***** and powders meet
And it starts to feel like ecstasy

At least that's what they're telling me

I spot you, so tame
Intrigued by your frail frame
I knew that it would come to this,
It is my favorite game

I stride across the sand, asking your name

The two of us walking through the trees
Your mini skirt inches above your knees
I start to get the sense
You do whatever it is that you please

I begin to think you're the one who's playing me

You say you hate a late bloomer
That people need to grow up sooner
And that all these ****** up kids
Are just another type of tumor

The universe has a meta sense of humor

And now you've got me alone
But you're losing control
You've crossed the thin line
Between belligerent and 'in my zone'

Oh God, I should have known

We are all what we hate
I like to call that fate
And it's why those filled with distaste
consume things that sedate

I've got you figured out, and that's checkmate
Don't lie to yourselves,
and don't you dare lie to me
because I know that selfishness
doesn't tie nooses
nor does it
fire gunshots into the mouths
of the so called "selfish."
Shame and guilt are the culprits
the ones who cut wrists
and overdose on pills.
Yet, I'm afraid
that they are seldom
held responsible for their
actions.
You were not a selfish man.
© M.K.B.
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
 Jun 2013 Plain Jane Glory
Nemo
How strange it is to think,
when the air you breathe
finds its way into my lungs
and when the deep cries of the world
are suddenly shallow, and light
as an offset breath of earthen ties
keeps me alive,
crisp wind,
with an infinite past
and biting emotion
looks on to it's own melody
wrapped in skin and bones
and swaying with the trees.
Some ask for honesty,
and only gain grief
but truth sits idly in the hands of reminiscence
and I've seen the way it treats history.
Relentless, unforgiving, but regard to control
comes swiftly with a skipped thought.
Conscious breathing.
Collected thinking.
Calm existence,
unbound sympathy.
And with a piece of life to transcend stress and pain,
in an unending spiral through every body
I hope to give you a sense of eternity.
Happy birthday.
Her birthday is July 3rd. Any commentary/criticism would be much appreciated
on the outskirts I watch them mingle
like a wallflower, yet less beautiful
tears welling in my eyes
like the shallow end of the pool to play in, but never to fall into
a fake smile pasted upon my lips  
like drawn with permanent marker
lies like I'm fine or I'm okay
repeated time and time again
day to day
and memories like scars refuse to fade
 Jun 2013 Plain Jane Glory
st64
how he loved his sweetheart queen
she always wore the silver bracelet
he gave when she turned sixteen
now their kids are growing; how time has flit



10 a.m.

Eyes opening, sun comes streaming through the windows. It's so late!

I rise, feel so groggy....what's this weighty load on me...?
I've been sleeping, yet feel profoundly *weary
.
Where is everyone?
"Muriel...?"
I get to the bathroom to wash and shave.

My wife appears at the door, "Honey, where have you been? Oh, we haven't seen you in so long... Welcome back! Come down for tea, dahling."
She pours a glittering smile and reaches up to touch my cheek with the back of her left hand, fingernails painted deep red...her nuptial rings still a dazzle after so many years...but she....
"Alright, dahling?"
"Y-yes, dear."

She had never called me darling...or even dahling....before...!
Huh?
And off she goes, to the kitchen.
Welcome back?? did she say?? And her eyes were shining so bright...
Wait a minute....just  hold on ....what....??
I shake my head, unable to toss some heavy feeling....a dense cloud in my head.



10:30 a.m.

Now I'm dressed and freshened up, I head down.

Feeling better, I see my warmhearted and humorous son at the pine dinette table.
I smile warmly as he turns to look up...I remember the promise that we'd go fishing this weekend.
"Hey, budd....."
I reach over to touch his hair, but he flinches away..!

"Who's this, Mom?" Kyle demands hotly.
My wife gives a bright smile which doesn't quite reach her eyes and says: "Now, Kyle....behave. It's Daddy.."
"Oh, he's just .....tired, ok."

She waltzes over and politely hands me a steaming mug.
What in the name of....???
Over the cloud of coffee, I watch them all.
Little Jenny, but my jolly toddler...now on her mother's hip...watches with wary eyes and reaches out to scratch me, her pacifier hanging from a blue ribbon, like a noose from her 'happy-smiles' bib.

"But Mom, he's been away so long...for years and..."
I hear him whispering sullen and lizard-like, to his mother....but he's hissed into silence.

What in the heck....?
"Now, children," Muriel says patiently, "go play out in the yard..."

Oh, I'm feeling so frazzled!



11:00 a.m.

I decide I've had enough.

My wife is at the sink, thickly busy rinsing cups and plates; she smiles sweetly, humming.
She never did like doing dishes....
Now there she stands, looking all coiffed and made-up, hopelessly incongruous...

I shake my head; thoughts roll and collide, like mysterious marbles across my mind-floor...
Kyle watches me hostile, from the garden...arms folded defiantly across his chest.
Jenny's on her tricycle, red as a fire-engine.....eyes blankly staring, bent on crisscrossing her scalene triangle trip.

I turn to ask: "Muriel, where's your bracelet, dear? You always have it on."
"Oh, dahling...don't you worry. It's upstairs on the dresser."

And yet.....I was there earlier whilst dressing, and I didn't see it!

Baffled, I step out to the kids.
I prune the bougainvillea and then rake some leaves. Hairs stand up on the back of my neck....
It feels as if I'm being watched...when I look up to see, they are all quickly resume their activities.
Muriel just keeps on that shiny smile for me.


11:30 a.m.

This is it.

As I rake, some leaves make way for a clearing in the yard.
Bending down to scoop some up, a shiny reflection catches my eye...there's the silver bracelet with that beautiful twist of blue as gemstones.
What was it doing here...?

Still pondering, I see my wife's head **** up from the kitchen window...lips curling back...oh, no smile this time...body looking too *****...eyes like saucers, way, way too interested.....

I look down again...move some more leaves.....a curled hand....But it looks like ......

I recognise my Muriel's hand, her clear and pushed-backed-cuticle fingernails....her arm..her face....but.....
she's here.....!!

What the.....??

I turn round slowly to look.....only..... too slowly.....







how I loved my sweetheart Muriel
who always wore her silver bracelet
with that beautiful
twist of blue




S T, 11 June 2013
Partly inspired by movie 'Haunting in Salem'...just some ****** film I couldn't finish....lol
Dozed off and wrote this thing, instead :)


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