Who was the great and noble host
Who penned in ern’st the way of the soul
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all’?
Did he know love as I have done?
Felt its wrench in the dead of night?
Or without warning had it pounced upon
Him when, in forgetting, thought all was right?
Or knew love in the taste of blood on teeth,
In bruised skin and in mistrust?
As well as in the pain of grief?
I have to assume he must.
For you can never truly know the pain of others
And love is lost, should we not hold empathy
For our sisters and our brothers.
From the passenger seat of my boyfriend's car
I keep my eyes wide while we drive, & watch
The world as it passes me, bye...
I wave from behind the tinted glass
Safely secured from the dangers that lie outside
We turn the radio all the way up
So we won't hear it squeak when we hit another speed bump
Instead we're blinded by bright city lights
Neon signs, streetlamps, & traffic lights;
Green then yellow then red, then red & blue (watch out, they're coming for you)
In the flashing lights, I see the city covered in a fresh coat of graffiti
Train-cars & abandoned buildings, dark alleys & concrete fences,
A bridge overpass where the streetlights have no electricity:
"Danger Reality Ahead"
Potholes sprinkled across empty Detroit streets
like bullet holes in dirty bedsheets
Found within the vacant homes of the forgotten,
alive with reminders of what used to be
Before the neighborhoods became abundant in abandoned homes
and awash with abandoned people
Yearning for forgotten yesterdays suspended far from reach,
searching for a memory of something concrete
While wandering along the crooked, cracked sidewalks
cemented with resentments;
Forgotten, forsaken, forlorn, foreboding... foreclosure
crisis spray-painted on the brick of a blown out home
Hungry for habitation despite dishevelment,
explicit with endless nothingness
Shell gas station with little neon green palm trees
perched upon the edge of the frenzied freeway,
a picture of plastic paradise
strewn with bright green lights
like spotlights of limelight
shedding light upon city life
never far from the dark side...
nearby, I spy
an assortment of street signs
to guide you into the night,
so turn right, & drive right
fly past the stoplight
into the glare of red light
& beware the districts of night life
just another night
filled with spite,
without a kiss goodnight
or making up after a fight,
a fight that was never supposed to be a fight
a fight that wasn't supposed to ruin the night
go to bed without knowing everything is alright
feeling nothing but contrite
what a night
turn out the light,
don't let the demons bite...
everything is gonna be alright,
if I cave will I collapse?
how can he be so close
but still just out of grasp?
& how much longer
will these fights last?
I need to know
that it's all in the past,
hope I don't
can we please
to before I said that?
am I on the wrong frequency?
because I still can't figure out
why you won't speak to me,
I forgave you
though our passions rose
I need you to be
on my side
we'll make up
wasted time waiting...
alone, by the phone
for a message that won't come
apology arrival, cancelled
cellular network, disconnected
I wanna be so numb
that I can't feel my feelings anymore
I wanna scream so loud I lose my voice
so I won't annoy you anymore
it's not like I had anything to say
have a nice day
thanks for nothing anyway
here we lie
side by side,
you & I,
keeping everything bottled up inside
just to avoid saying
what's really on our minds,
I just wanna go back in time
when everything was fine
before everything got so fucked up
back when everything was un-fucked
but shit happens, & we fight
so please just shut-up
I wanna kiss & make-up, tonight
Here I stand, on the verges of my might
Romancing the heart, with pallets of dreams
Famished, for your delicacy delight
Thus, drowned underneath, your river’s wave streams;
Fool I, lured, chase butterfly in the wind,
And know very thin, how to wade or dance,
Or maneuver, the wooden oars on hand,
Yet, wild the heart is teased, I’ll take my chance.
The brush now light, the colors landing slow
My final strokes, for the perfection sought
My eyes bright, with the spectrum of her glow
I found she holding, painting of self-thought,
Opened arms, to pleasure this hungry heart
Untamed I am, thus paint in lesser doubt.