She writes about sadness
to console herself
to find another who can relate

She writes about peace
to feel it even just by ink
to feel tranquility amidst adversity

She writes about love
because she's in love
and she fell out of love

She writes about bitterness
because she lacks in sweetness
and her life is a mess

She writes about hope
asking what it is
wishing there really is

She writes about lust
to experience the pleasure
of pleasuring herself

She writes,
to surpass the limitations of her understanding
to fake reality
to cover lies
to correct mistakes
to lessen the pain
to share the burden

She writes,
To expose her soul
She writes,
To fool herself

It was sobering;
His hands, the laughter,
The murderous sips of a love that wouldn’t last, yet couldn’t die
Just the same
All the same,
We drink on
Finding the barren path to be your saving grace –
As if I cared.
I don’t care.
I only want to bottle your anxiety until I see your smile again,
Sit on some glacier, pleading cheers to your cure,
To be your cure
To sing away your worry, delusion
To embarrass myself so much so that you may just forget your tiny insecurities,
Your teeth, hands
Without returning my love, of course
I never return
What would the wine taste of?
Love, or better yet tears?
The broken bits of your impaired heart, my awful mind,
A temptation to outdate a clouded daytime
My cold heart gets exhausting, misses our warmth
Your skin, lashes
With notes of your favorite fruit, my favorite song
It feels right, it feels right, I just want it to feel wrong

She doesn't start in the morning
like she used to,
and her gears are slipping.
Lost some of her pep
going down the street,
and is always going in for
something or other.

There's that clicking noise
whenever she takes off;
her chassis is sagging.
Leaves an inconvenient,
messy puddle
when she's parked for too long.

Maybe it's time.

Time to clean out
all her nooks and crannies
of the detritus
of years of family life,
and haul her off to the bone-yard.

Perhaps someday,
new life will come from
some old parts.
Until then,
let her sit and finish rusting
with all the other used-up
relics, loved once and forgotten,
compressed by time
into shapelessness
in rooms stinking of ***** and disinfectant.

By: Cedric McClester

As we shall see infidelity
While seeming to be
The latest fashion
Where there’s conviction
And passion
So even those
Who walk down the aisle
Are often betrayed by words or a smile

Increasingly
We’re beginning to see
Infidelity
Wouldn’t you agree

Let’s keep it real
There’s Bill -  (And Camille)
Knows how it feels
When tabloids reveal
The infidelity
That she didn’t see
Though it kept happening
Time and again

Increasingly
We’re beginning to see
Infidelity
Wouldn’t you agree

The unions survive
The husbands and wives
Living separate lives
Check out the archives
So what’s the reason
For their treason
Finding someone to squeeze in
Must be in season

It’s hard to respect
Those you wouldn’t suspect
Of bedding the babysitter
So you can’t blame the wives
For being angry or bitter
Cuz it never occurred
It was the babysitter
Who was preferred

Increasingly
We’re beginning to see
Infidelity
Wouldn’t you agree












Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.

me
i grew up dreaming
that all good things happen
maybe in real life it does too
but i realised
life doesn't work
when you try reaching the stars.
all you can get
is air

you
dreamt of what's real
you knew the injustice
of hoping for the irrational
because you know the stars
are dead
and their shine
is hope
in illusion.

me
the ground
the mountains, reaching for you
you are the one that fills the gaps
between what i lost
and what i have yet to find
yet dreams will still be dreams
and my hands will never be long
and enough
to fill the space between
you and me.

you
the sky
you stretch your arms
you plague my existence with yours
and everyone above me
desires for your touch
what bothers me are the times when
you let your guard down
when you don't have to
and i feel you
just because i crave to.

me
i always want you.
i always do.
but if all i can get is air
while you're miles away
and if i'll be drowned
with your hellish hurricanes
and torturous storms
what could you make of me?

us
what could be?
will it be?
i have questions unanswered
but if there's one thing i'm certain of
it would be
there's no me in you
and there's
you in mine.