She was dressed in mustard,
on a tall golden chair
She sat before clean,
crisp and clear silverware
around her, nothing mattered
not even the polluted air
she left, nobody noticed
they ask "was she even there"

-Kaya

Here is total nonsense in a verse,
It's about the scourge of the burbs,
A silly tale of Lady Bonkerley,
A femme always dressed in Regency,
Draping clothes her poseur finery,
And her boyfriend, a bossy bully,
They pranced around so merrily,
But wait, they were mere fictionaries,
I guess that's why we're writers, you and me,
It's all in our  heads, you see,
Lady Bonkerley was only imaginary!

boy, but does she shine like a light,
a star, the sun and moon combined.

like the wind in your face, like a breeze blanketing,
like the steady dream you work for, like the long-awaited rest;
see, she is the calm in the sky, the ocean, your heart –
she is the quiet in the forest, the softness of each movement.

she is a soft sprout, the grass beneath your feet
and the tree who arches her branches above you.
she is the good soil and all the things in bloom,
the water running clean and cold and sweet;
she, who knows nothing but to give, and give, and give –
a beauty that runs good and goes deep.

(and people, they so easily forget
how she is as well the thunder, the lightning,
the storm meeting the shores,
a wolf howl at her core.
don’t be fooled.
know
how she is both hellfire
and candlelight.)

she is a child on the streets in the light of day.
dancing.
she has made a world of her own, here,
in tattered clothes and still-bright eyes.
she,
who lives in fear and smiles still—
braveheart.

this is the life she lives:
a fight for freedom even now,
a thirst for better days,
a kindness that remains.

this girl—she is a child.
and she is fury.
(beneath the worn-out dress there is a knife.
this child—she has been a fighter in so many lives.)

this lady—she reclaims her royal right.
for far too long she has been dealt too much dirt;
my child. she hurts.

generous child; sometimes I think she has been far too kind.
she has been cheated too many times.
good lady, take back all that they have taken.
I want it back; I want it back. we will take it back.

(this is a shout, a hope, a full demand.)

good lady, you deserve far more than what you have been given.
my lady, dear child,
still you smile.
my goddess,
stay bright.
unsheathe your knife;
raise your voice, speak honest words—
let battle cries be battle cries.

old heart of mine,
old heart of this land I love:
stay bright, stay bright.
we will take it back and more.

Dress to ****, don't show everything.
Pass smiles, be polite to everyone.
Keep your voice down, never to laugh out loud.
Eat a modest portion, and only one piece of cake.

Walk gracefully, poise in every move.
Sit up straight, legs daintily crossed.
Hold your wine glass by the stem, never by the bowl.
Take a sip by looking into, never over the glass.

There's nothing in the world like proper etiquette.
You can always tell a lady has good breeding
by how effortlessly classy she is.

fire lips, feline walk
the perfect simetrie,
animal desire ethereal
sweetnes.

under mi sinner eyes, of
a divine madman, y find her
in shadows

sempithernal muse,
beautiful, serene, sweet,
as strawberry jam, and
wild as a lioness


your saving fire, between
the ashes of betrayal, your
kiss of fire, woke the sleeping
by hate, torture and pain
desire.

dark rellity, brougth me her
saviour lips, and with them
the verbe, oh ethereal muse
oh strawberry jam.

the fires lips, and silk
skin, hidden in shadows,
with her kisses of silk.

the sweet beauty of a leopard,
beautfiul, serene, you are life,
and fire, desire.

you walk on beauty, threw the
polluted airs, cleaning it all,
with fierce simplicity.

oh ethereal muse, beautfiul, eternal,
you eyes shine, knowing the one
who looks, adores you in silence.

your simplicity, superbe, beautiful,
sweet, wild, you are
the ethereal muse.

your silk kisses, give life,
hold it, silence the mugle doubts
with your leopard eyes.

the eyes are the sun,
in the dark artist's life,
hidden in plain sigth.

your sweetnes, oh
ethereal muse, you give
vigor, strength, a reason.

the silk kisess, and the
lost looks, take emptines,
and fill it all, threw your eyes,

the ethereal eyes, company
my dream, y adore you, as
mi goddess, company, contention,
compassion, evoqued feelings
of your eyes.

all spiritual, is the consecuence
of you, making a beast love,
you make it human, divine,
serene, loved, as its love and
adores you.

silently, threw this hello place
for madmen and poets, the rest
is haters, jealousy, or acomplisses of
creeps.

oh silk kisses, that save mi life,
in most vill of nigths, and bring
back the human in me.

oh muse, lover, you fill it all
with love, with your eyes of
ethereal leopard, mi sun.

je adore, oh loved  muse,
you are mine, beautiful,
human, divine, your kisses
give life, you love me,
and y adore you, you are mi
goddess, your silk kisses
save mi life.

c'est tout, c'est tout
je adore.

Let's unmask some clowns,
No need to get down,
Tell me, who is your Kryptonite?
What's the opinion of your ex-wife?
What went on in your chronicles and sagas?
Who is acting like Lady Gaga?
Please, don't carry on so,
I really don't need to know!

Moving left to right,
Hips sway slowly,
Hair brushing one shoulder to the next,
Eyes closed and lips miming the words
She hears in her head.

We all wish those words were ours,
That our creativity made her move that way.
But they're not ours,
She's dancing to someone else's song