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Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
I catch myself sulkin' in a dangerous headspace far to often
Hope fadin' to nothin' as I witness this slowly becomin' a trend
Does life's chokehold ever loosen?
Possibly but probably only after recordin' just one more win
Does the fall from grace to then through the bottom of my rock bottom ever soften?
How many of life's knockout blows to the chin can I take before smelling salts are no longer an option
They completely stop workin', then, try as you might I can no longer be woken but I'm not dreamin'
I hate to think it but is my inner peace destin to be found in a cheap coffin from some morbid discount bin
Only then activatin' when they set me in and my body begins the process of decomposin'
I'm not that lucky, I already know how it'll end
Only leads to a destination for those with the designation of unforgiven
Seems like I was made pre-broken but more often than not the why is an overpriced question, so it's rarely spoken
How is any of this benefital to my survival and progression towards a vaguely promised fairy tail endin'
Feels like regression made it it's mission to win the tug o war competition and it's lookin' like it did while barely tryin'
There's only so far I can bend, destined to give in, I'm sayin' when with a voice through a digital pen
Regardless who's payin' attention, wether anybody likes it or not there's no stoppin' or dodgin' what's comin'
If history's taught me anythin' it's that there's no way this isn't happenin', it's both out of my hands and out of the question
I won't beg you to listen, the dead end repetition has caused me to bail on even the lowest bar of expectation
I'm not strong enough to keep goin', I can no longer pretend, can't count on myself to treat myself like a friend
I've never known or at least have forgotten how to mend, now I'm the firey wreckage of a doomed hydrogen Zeppelin
A bad idea tried over and over again, full send, hand your beer to a friend, yeah, we all know that definition
I'm a multi fasited paradox, like water and oil mixin', or a Christian followin' what Jesus was actually teachin'
Good and evil coexistin' under the same skin so there's a constant battle ragin' within
Given advice but don't listen, cost of hate skyrocketin' but I'm buyin' in without even researchin'
Ignorin' every critical warnin' while needlessly explorin' the landmine riddled mess I'm in
My own reflection is a poor representation, I begin witnessin' the facade crackin' revealin' a twisted perfection
But perfection was never the requirement, but still a required lesson
I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I was a dollar short of payin' attention
Realization sets in mid tail spin, lost all sense of direction, my guidance system way overdue for an inspection
But once again no one gets in even though I'm desperately needin' a licensed technician
My problems baffle the best of list of repair men to the point they go searchin' out a new profession
I'm an occupational hazard, a coward, findin' the bad in every good situation, a magnet for confrontation
Then I start thinkin', maybe my malfunction is beyond repairin' so I focus in on my masks restoration
The projection of a sane person is important as to not draw attention to this infection of darkness that's spreadin'
An infestation of my past, present and future anxieties manafestin', fear on every station, runnin' into problems at every elevation
A hate hate relation, both comin' from and directed at the same person
Cursin' my own existence as every action taken to better this god forsaken life adaptation only sees the situation worsen
What's the solution? Where do I even begin lookin'? Is there a guide I could or should be followin'?
If I told you hope was taken all the way back before my creation I'm sure it'll have you thinkin' I must be mistaken
But I have no stake in or reason to lie, no exaggeration needed when the truth alone is so friggin frightenin'
Don't come a knockin', you wouldn't want me to invite you in, the den is set up like a ***** dungeon
Horrendous ***** happenin' within these walls, under my skin, you couldn't and shouldn't try to imagine
It'll break you down like a fraction, plus, I can't say that I can see the attraction
You're gonna have to come up with an explanation for that one again, start from the beginnin'
'Cause I thought I made the warnin' clear, extra bold between each quotation, reiderated in every caption
Let me give you some life changin' advice son, run, don't look back till you see kingdom come on the horizon
I'm not one to bet on, a hopeless lost cause, it'd do you well to move on
she waited
discreetly checked the time
continued to wait
patiently and impatiently
flashing a smile
at what felt like
appropriate moments
a stunted laugh
or an "oh"
"really" or "yeah"
if she felt
she'd been wordlessly
quiet for too long
hours had been lost
to the smallest of talk
the bane of
real conversation
of truly meeting a person
all that effort
of getting ready
the makeup
meticulously applied
the hair
styled and restyled
the outfit
chosen then doubted
then changed
to be put on again
all of that
for this
my eyes are drawn
to two seagulls
perched contentedly on
a ****-caked lamp post
nothing decorative
lacking flourish or accent
a simple narrowing pole
coloured inexplicably green
with gently domed cowls
that gulls and pigeons
seemingly frequent
marred by a combination
of cream brown white
for all i know
it could be
their own faeces
in which they stand
or it could be
weathered and aged
built up and dried in place
for days
for months
for years
perhaps even decades
never to return
to untarnished days
perhaps if the bulb blew
or the lamp failed completely
it might be restored
while it is repaired
but there is no
guarantee of that
and yet the birds
could not care less
they'll pay no heed
to that which is less
than perfection
treating this evidently
well-favoured resting place
the same as they would
an unmarred branch
protected amongst tree tops
or a dainty bird-bath
amidst the flowers
of someone's quaint garden
it showed
an utter disdain
for the conventions
of such an event
that they would
not toe the line
like the others
they proffered
none of the standard
sidestepped shuffles
nor the exuberant
failing of arms
that have come
to be expected
of "good" dancers
those overused staples
that accompany such
predictable song choices
outdated and enjoyed
only ironically
they danced
not for that
nor the unnoticed
peripheral audience
but solely
to tell a story
to one another

to be a part
of that crowd
and merely sway
in time
with eye meeting eye
in an unfocused gaze
though perhaps
once of love
forehead resting
   upon forehead
each side reluctant
to pull away
despite the discomfort  
this dance could not
faithfully manifest
their truth
instead they chased
cavorted and capered
with piggybacks
and fireman's lifts
arms-spread spinning
they became fireworks
their bodies
exploding apart
pulled together
   and stumbling
without a care
leaping shoelessly
from place to place
from song to song
ending always
in each other's arms
a dusky walk
through the middle
of the park
clear of
the shadows
of branch
and leaf
at its edges
the only light
stretched out
but struggling
from distant
lamp posts
or the
yet more distant
halo of moon
breaching cloud
it is enough
to plot
a route by
but not
with confidence

a leather flapping
tells tale
of bats
in their erratic
yet assured flight
by many
perhaps for
that very reason;
not flying
the expected path
Zywa Sep 2022
There are knocks, no ring

at the door, I open it --

for a little boy.
"Monterosso mon amour" (2022, Ilja Leonard Pfeiffer)

Collection "Palace of the Night"
Zywa Aug 2022
I really love you,

but what you expect from me --

I can't bear no more.
"Testament" (2009, Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer)

Collection "Palace of the Night"
we heard them
talking about
a meteor shower
later that night
highly anticipated
set to accompany
the rust red
that we caught
following us

lay down
upon blankets
a meagre effort
to provide
at least
a little comfort
while we witnessed
astral magnificence
the significance
of which
none of us
was certain
childishly imagining
a spectacle
from the dazzling
of shooting stars
trailing tails
like fireworks
in wonder
appearing briefly
burning out

we found ourselves
staring up
at one of those
of white
drifting across
the stratosphere
it could be
a meteor
maybe just
an aeroplane
or simply
a twinkling
trick of
the light
yet still
we watched
without excitement
without direction
without relevance
expecting a boom -
but it was only a whisper.
expecting a spectacle -
but it only got dimmer.
expecting praise -
when only deserving of pity.
just when you couldn’t finish the race
was the distance travelled all a waste?
fell too short, a disgrace
when the expectation wasn’t my fate.
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