Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
Morning shower was wonderful  
Although I always shower alone
Who is the one who follows me there
Where I lay restless my thoughts bare
Live streaming rivulets crystal clear
Lost in a watery mist
With whomever I dare
My reluctant nakedness  
Bringing thoughts of you near
  
What safety here
What denied demon deity
Are you
What vampire warmth *******
Shadow dancing
Dumb down daring
Lives here
Am I waking from the dream
Is it all it seems
My body
My soul
Lay bare
Perhaps if true
That I have always showered alone
Till I found you there


Who is the you
Of whom I speak
Pieces of the whole
Yanked from my soul
Incomplete  

You hide in a shower of lies
Whoever you are
Masquerading as truth
Though truth be subjective
I’m told
Take off the blindfold
You have been here so long
The waters turned cold

Would  
Washing away the lies
Lies there
Hope
Dreams
Plans and schemes
Try to stay alive  
Lazy mantra
No work
For you.

For me
An emotional confessional
For the cleansed of perfection
I thought-
Of the sequence of events
That led to you leaving
The madness of mania
Reaching a fevered pitch
A fire of despair
Contagious as it draws near
From bed to bed it jumped
Unconscious
Retaliation of
Of outrage and contempt
Inoculations against the lie
Of feeble fallibility
And all sensibility
Was gone
I was aflame
And you the fire.

Alas the fire has died
  
Chiefs
All of them
What was it the chief said
Hold on to what you believe
Even if it’s a tree.
A tree
That stands alone.

Trees that stood alone.
All of them
All three
Trees that stood alone
Branches rigid like stone
Arthritic roots digging deep
Olive branches
To cover the shame shifters
Name game blamers
Who left the house
Through the back door
Metaphor
Expressing only what they want you to see
O pinnacles of propriety
You lied to me
Worse
I believed the lies
And could not see
I
Sometimes delving deep
Into the craziness
Of a felt connection
Screaming in silence
For you have
For you
Whoever you are
My reason for living
My fury at dying
My anger at the lies
My hurt that won’t heal
My life a disguise


I reject the madness of projection
Take back the parts that were never mine
Take your sad story
You need it
To stay alive

It’s only
A good detective show.
Searched for the missing pieces
And
Didn’t want to say
I told you so.

Aries are like that
Ruled by Mars
And fiery.
Headstrong
And wise
With the moon and the sun in Gemini
As of this writing
Truth-seeking Aries
Will never tell you a lie
Competitive but not in a mean way
But blunt
Sometimes
Blunt


Three chiefs in a room
Was definitely a crowd
What’s more
There were actually
Four or more
You couldn’t see them though
For they were lying low
Parasitic opinions
Prodding for advantage
Plotting
Punishing
Ghosts
Of Christmas past
Present and future
Specters of possibilities
Probabilities
Imagined
Some nightmarishly so
Threatening your very existence
With things you do not know

Time equally
Spent
Between and betwixt
Not seeming to take sides
Lest it seems a trick

Looked you in the eye
Casual enough
Look away
With a casual sigh
Timing is everything
Not to mention the conversation
Lost in the looking
Nothing really lost
Nothing really found
What did you say?
And can you repeat that
I was just wondering
Daydreaming to be truthful
Why should I listen to you
and
Why did you wear blue  
It’s a funny question
I know.
And can you please repeat what you just said
I was trying to read your expression
instead
I know I must sound an idiot
Isn’t funny how I wore blue too.
Between him and him and you
I wrote three hymns
And a hallelujah too
Maybe it all played out as it should have
With no could of or
Would of
A natural softening of the boundaries
Perhaps a dissolution of egos
Led me into your inner chamber
Like Mars
The god of war
Destroyed what was not real
And then receded
You pleaded
For me to go
Quickly.
Three was always a crowd,
A necessary triangulation
A supply chamber
For those who wore a shroud

Now heard you say
Now go away
Loud and clear
Why so loud and why so clear
Did you think me hard to hear
Could you not have whispered low
Softly to go
Bt no
Then
It was a literal death toll
For you too
I could not say
You could not stay
There was nothing left to do

You picked up what you could
And leftover me.
Bereft
Stepped over me
And left
Nevertheless
What’s in the conquest?
What did you get?
Missing soul piece

Did you get what you wanted
Was it a success?
Then
In the end, it was all worth it
It seems
The Machiavellian end justified the means
I’m not really sure if this is what I mean.
My words seem so inadequate.
Perhaps the best defense is an offense.
In any event
I’m off the fence.
But
Still in search
Of some pieces
I might have missed
Along the way.
Bo Tansky
Written by
Bo Tansky  100/F/Florida
(100/F/Florida)   
89
       Saumya and Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems