#bravado
We never ******
Not even once.
And since the last time we met -
you know, the last time you left -
I've been suffocating in all this
sticky, salty, sweat.
Drowning, even,
one might say,
but I've never been one to brag,
Ms. I-wanted-you-to-stay.
So, anyways,
I'll lick it off taut abdomens,
clenching hard in ecstasy,
and serpentine tongues,
writhing with torrid glee.
And somehow, I'll taste you.
Why?
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 2:33 PM UTC
I was at a funeral recently, a work colleague, a nice lady
Her father had passed away
I was surprised to learn that she was an only child
And that her Dad...her Dad was a 'steeplejack' of all things
Yea he used to climb up and repair church steeples or build church steeples, whatever steeplejacks do
I wondered amusingly Did he ever try and get her in on the trade
"C'mon up here Sarah, there's a great view from up here" He! He!"
Later on in the service one of his nephews got up to give the eulogy
He talked about what a special man he was
I thought to myself, You'd want to be a special man to be a steeplejack
Me! I get dizzy standing on a chair
You'd want to have your head ******* on the right way doing that job
One mistake and you're... you're history
I thought his poor wife must have been a nervous wreck waiting for him to come home
He'd lived into his nineties (90's)
His wife had died just a few years previously
He sounded like... like quite a character.
I was reminded then of an old school Pal of mine... Tom from primary school (kindergarten)
When we used live by the sea
Tom was a great swimmer he'd won loads of trophies
There was an outdoor swimming pool in our village
And you'd often see him heading up to the pool
He'd have his towel and togs under his arm
He used to walk on top of the sea wall when he'd be going up the village
And there was this part of the sea wall that was very high
There was about a 15 to 20 foot drop onto the road on one side
And an even bigger drop of 30 to 40 feet onto the rocks on the other side
And the width of the wall was just around a foot and had little ruts in it (uneven surface) that you could easily trip on if you weren't careful
And he used walk on this like a tightrope walker yea!
And we used to watch him in awe with our mouths wide open in amazement
Asking ourselves 'How could he do that ?
What the hell was going on in his head that he could do such a thing ?
If he fell he'd be killed outright or certainly crippled
And no one would ever say anything to him, they'd just say "Oh! That's just Tom"...
One day coming home from school he took me into the swimming pool
He knew all the people who worked there
On this day they were cleaning the pool and had emptied out all the water
So what does Tom do but go out onto the 'diving board ' and starts bouncing up and down on it
And there's a drop of 20 to 30 feet onto the hard cement of an empty swimming pool
If he fell he'd be breaking his neck or his legs
Crazy!
He came to our house one time, now there used to be this big rocky outcrop that used come right up to the back of our house
We used to call it 'the Cliff', it was made up of all these big rocks and loose slatey type rocks and sand
It was as high as the house itself
We were all soccer ⚽ mad in those days, we used run up the steps to the back garden to play (was on top of the cliff)
We'd be looking over at the chimneys on the house
Tom came visiting one day, when we went out the back and he seen the Cliff
He announced straightaway "I'm going to climb that"
We said "You're crazy!"
We left him there bemused and went off to play our game
About 30 minutes later Tom appears at the side of our soccer pitch having climbed up from below...
And he could hardly kick a football, he just wasn't interested in that... wasn't interested
Inside his head he had...he had his own way to go.
Sep 22, 2024
Sep 22, 2024 at 8:09 AM UTC
Crimes gone on and on and against all humanity with a refusal to ever scrutinize
Twist the rule of law to accommodate the blatant lies they prioritize on both sides
That's the American dream, can only be seen behind closed eyes
Allowed to look but can't touch the prize, that's the hook, the bait and switch slight of hand is no surprise
A separate set of law books slipped in on the sly, guess the compromise
One for the citizen and one for the almighty enterprise, just dollar signs in their eyes
All for one and one for all, false bravado, see what happens when a nobody tries
See how quick a global problem is prioritized to keep in check a global unrest notably on the rise
Also on the rise, fear of a population turned unbiased congregation then weaponized
Who exactly are the good guys? If it's a non zero number I'd be surprised
Who would have guessed that building an enterprise on the lives of the little guys would be a possible demise?
🎼If you go into my neck of the woods prepare for a big surprise
A lone baby cries it's own lullabies through innocent eyes as innocence dies
The evil in people is all that thrives, it's never been the best of times🎼
©2023
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 6:30 PM UTC
I’ve got my big girl jeans on
And a take no **** smile
I’m ready to kick *** today
Though it has been a while
Go ahead, neg on me
Or anyone else nearby
Come on, show superiority
I’ll show you that won’t fly
NCL September 2019
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:39 PM UTC
I am the girl who brings the rain
I am the girl of many floods
so be wary
for
I don a cloak of thistles
and thorns when
provoked.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
I’m flying I’m not lying I am never coming down
I’m not dying no more crying I will stay above the ground
I outrun the hounds, I cannot be drowned
More amplifying and igniting the world reverberates with sound
My coronation mass elation and now I wear the crown
No denying I am lightning I am the best pound for pound
Without trying I am frightening I am lost and never found
I am the baddest man around
I am untethered never bound
I will forever lead the crowd
I will leave them wowed
I will make them proud
I will not be cowed
Nor will I bow down
Never see me frown
Now I run this town
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 8:22 AM UTC
you claim to be the sun
a lioness and goddess
born from fire and flames.
I do not doubt you.
your beliefs are your own.
yet do not be so contentious
so audacious to paint yourself
in such resplendent glory.
we both know better.
if you are built from ashes
why do you claim to burn
at the memory of me?
my ghost should not leave
scorch marks upon a goddess
of the sun.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
one forceful burst of holiday wind
makes me glance passively to the left,
tracing the lines in your ponytail as you
continue to stare beneath the pier. the
void silence between us is normal; i shiver
and you follow suit. you’re wearing triple
layers and i’m wishing i would have been
more prepared.
the seals suddenly go belly-up and you call for
the others. they come over; one is embracing
the other from behind; arms bolted to hips.
in the right angle, underneath the lamp post, i
pretend to unsee a slightly fresh mark on her neck.
i sense the awkwardness drifting our way as if the
white fog in the night had suddenly come alive. i
inch a hint closer. enough so you wouldn’t notice.
in fact, i’m not sure what would have happened.
i wonder if you would have stopped me, having known.
there’s about three inches and four centimeters between
our arms now. the others have gone upstairs and the voices
around us have retired. the small voice beneath my ears is
pressuring me to shoot my shot but my being remains stagnant.
we observe the seals dance joyously within nature’s boundaries.
you’re still shivering.
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
taking a substantial bite from the already petite slice,
he smiles and shoves the remainder of the fruit in my face.
“it tastes just like you; innocent and oh-so delicious.”
my skin crawls on every level imaginable submerged in flesh.
turning around as to hide my contorted expression, i just nod.
i absolutely hate him, but they claim he took care of me as a child.
“you don’t have to like him; he just needs acknowledgment.”
he grips my hands and spins me around. just like he used to.
but harder. much harder. i used to feel terror; it’s routine now.
stare at the concrete as spit projects on my face - internal meditation.
they never believe me when i bring it up. i get it, there’s no proof.
these marks around my throat – allergies from the weather.
you’re right, these bruises, they’re from rough housing. tough love.
literally.
he says the easiest way to discipline someone was reinforcing punishment.
you should see the strength he uses to test for ripeness at the market.
now imagine this: the watermelon is your skull, and his fists are knives.
i just avoid eye contact and clench my abdomen; the knees are coming.
“i’m going to spread you open today, boy; like a ******* ****** watermelon”
he loves seeing the liquid run down my chin – perfectly young and seedless.
and i react just how he likes it:
like his ******* watermelon.
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
It’s a word on the tip of the precipice
Teetering and tottering
While I slide backwards away
Muttering sullenly and with bravado
“You can’t make me fall.”
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
Delusions of
Futures untold
Created for
Us, you know: the un-bold
Braying our compulsions
To the big ear in the
Sky
As we seek:
Glor if i ca tion
Being meek likely won’t bring
Gra tif i ca tion
Dulling my senses points to
Stu pif i ca tion
But don’t I deserve it, ain’t i a
Hall u cin a tion
So why put in the work?
Let’s wait
<<<PAUSE>>>
The avalanche will find us in perpetuity
Coming in time cause we been shirking duty
Oh, there it is - it’s time for us to be:
Aggrieved
Shoulda known better but we was:
Deceived
IlWanted to tell my truth, wanted to be:
Believed
Shoulda kept something up my:
Sleeve
So how do you rise above?
Do you got what it takes?
Could you climb your
Kilamanjaro?
With a little training maybe
And a Gut check: to find your bravado
Wouldn’t it be nice to have your own number,
Just like Avogadro
Let’s ask again,
How do you rise above?
Breathe it in
Seethe it in
Find a vessel to
Conceive it in
Now that it’s full
And overflowing
Now let it go
Trying to find answers in a bottle
Could point you toward
A 12 step mis-step
Getting back on the right track:
Use a compass
That’s internal
Realign it, maybe
Through a vernal
Equinox, the universe speaks a language
We are untaught
It’s of the Earth and Sky and
Can’t be bought
Maybe it’s me and
Maybe it’s not
I want to commune with my god
Through thought and
Heartfelt overtures that aren’t constrained
By limitations of my brain
Or systems based on economics
My value is not gleaned from
Gross Domestic Products
Answers are found as you expand past the vessel
You may become part of the trestle
Follow the false path long enough
And you get trod under
The false pathfinder becomes the path,
Did you make a few to many navigational errors
Cause you didn’t do the math
And now, as a part of the foundation of which the unending wayfarers
Can use to go a little further and a little longer in the wrong direction
Your hard work has become a bridge to nowhere
But let’s not dwell, cause
Scrupulosity
Will never guide you to the golden city
Maybe its the meat suit that you’re wearing
The overcomplexity of your eyes
That won’t let you see
The unending nerve endings that make you feel so much
You can’t feel, you won’t feel
You could pay heed to Seneca
Consider giving the suit a slip
Taking a trip
Through the underworld
With everybody’s favourite sidekick: Virgil
Kickin’ it, workin’ it
Trying not to let the lost souls hold you down
Throw you down
Now it’s time, let’s start coming around
On my journey, seems
I can’t shake em’
Me, myself, and my shadow-self
Guess I’ll try and integrate em’
Time for a va ca tion
From thoughts that won’t un-
wind, in breezes
Gonna get around to it, to
Writing my treatise
Maybe I can elucidate this false peace
Via an army of one, en masse
Slipping through the bars of false
Beliefs
As the trees
Lose their leaves
Maybe for the last time
I'm working on the unwind
From a labyrinth that is unkind
So sorry:
Guess I'm playing up the sublime
Ah, never mind - it’s
Navel gazing
Self hazing
I ain’t done razing
Roofs and
Telling truths
Or drinking
Vermouth
Cause at my very root I am
Uncouth
Razing?
Or raising!
Roofs
Finding proofs
Telling truths
Ever listen to Ruf-
Us or Martha
The Wainrights
Canadian brain-trust
Listen too hard make your brain bust
Let’s get back to navels, or
Oranges
But nothing rhymes with oranges
Maybe not
Gotta flip it
Tryna strip it
This noose is so tight
Can I slip it?
It’s geometrical
Said Euclides
We got the Greeks
Or do the Greeks got us
Squeezing us into this euro-centric
Box
Can it be un-wrapped?
Can you un-rap this poem?
Busting brains
And taking names
No one to blame, I
Don’t feel ashamed
When I win
Just means I can take it
In my shin
It’s got nothing to do with my
D N A, eh
Nor the choice piece of geography
I made the conscious choice to arrive on,
genetically
But remembering brevity
It’s time to cut the rambling for the sake of levity
Speaking of sake, I wouldn’t mind some saké
Oh, what’s that:
~~~ boom ~~~
Pulled another one out of my medicine bag
Just sitting here
Shifting gears
Confronting fears
Yesterday I was
Bleak
Er
Meek
Er
Should have been a
Streak
Er
Laying out the facts that are
untold
Thanks for listening to me
Another one of the
un-bold
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
beautiful whispers in my ears
easing all of my darkest fears
i kiss you then and hold you tight
and waiting for the coming of night
i light the cigarette and watch the smoke
and pocket my nails, jagged and broke
the tempest is nigh, winds are blowing
we zip up our coats, knowing:
it will be rough, it will be a test
everything dear will be lost lest
we stand tall and shout aloud
we are proud and will not be cowed
for we are stoic in the face of death
and with a full chorus of hitched breath
i pirouette and twirl and laugh and sing
nothing will subdue this couple of kings!
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
Some drive big cars,
Brag of deep scars
To prove they have big ******
Some grow goatees,
Axe down huge trees,
Or chew on edible *******
Real men, I've heard, eat Wheaties,
Enjoy lap dance stripteases,
Build towers with their empties,
The bravado is relentless.
Kim Jong Un,
Thinks his long
In his munchkin hands.
He does private battle
With his androgynous name;
While playing with lead soldiers;
Unsheathing a stainless sabre,
Lighting up his candles,
To show he's macho manly.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 10:32 AM UTC
Carla kept nudging me to learn Italian.
It is the language of lovers and liars she said, life’s two best friends,
Discipline yourself, it will teach you to sing, she offered,
Each phrase a lyric, a seduction,
It will give you an unfair advantage over younger men, she promised,
Tickle her ear with this tongue and she will shiver and unfold,
Her heart, her knees unlocked.
Italian is a calculate of rhythm, Carla suggested,
Every woman understands timing and phase,
Our life is nothing but cycles for god’s sakes,
How have you not understood this?
It is the lingua of fair play, she continued, each syllable an equal citizen,
A dialect with an innate sense of justice,
Women are as intrigued by its possibilities,
As they are by threat and danger,
Either of which you can no longer promise.
Tell a woman you love her in Italian,
Ti amo più respiro, I love you more than breath,
And her ******* will disappear,
She won’t be able to take her eyes off your lips,
And as we all know, your mouth is your hook,
Your irresistible smile, the pout, the persuasion.
You are a poet, a miracle I know,
Your words are narcotic when you put your mind to it,
I’ve heard you quell an unruly crowd;
Your resonant tone could soothe a pack of ravenous jackals.
But with that intricate face of yours,
Your accumulating age, the leather wrinkles,
Believe me, you will soon need to help to ****** even a photograph.
Enlist, become Italian, Carla told me, it is your only hope,
And she tossed the last of her wine onto the sand,
Watched the red stain saturate and fade,
And lay back to face the sun.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
I was, “then,” – when you found your voice.
I was, “there” – By trip come broken lace.
So it’s “there,” where bravado’d gallant, and
“There,” where time flipped tricks, and theatre
Prior regret. Previous want and wary brow,
More importantly, ‘fore we’d ever remember.
Perhaps and only precursory,
The single bead of sweat, making way,
Later tear, and forever’d a tale,
From forehead unto sacred navel.
So the story goes, blasphemous and becoming,
After us, after, “one” and later, returning to,
“One,” again, this singularity of sorts.
I’d wallow, “after,” wherein we succumbed,
So much like the rest of the world –
Under, “soil,” under spotlight, under scrutiny;
Somehow ill from our mutual ******
But even more so, the anesthetic consumed
Hours early and promise come one walk home.
More importantly, though, I am, “now,” stuck,
Stalled, dripped with fear, downing one beer,
After another beer, after another, after another,
And in reconciliation ‘for your maintained halo.
I’d wanted away, achieved a block, fell short,
Yet still, I somehow remain, a first – committed,
Whilst you dreamt that I’d never look back.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 8:41 AM UTC
Behind the drapes I used to hide.
Regret eventually consumed me.
And although I did prefer to hide,
Valiancy sufficed my needs.
Alibis were not enough for time lost.
Dreams were dreamt not by choice
Oh how I love the sound of my Voice!
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Don't fall in love with a boy who loves himself more than a mother loves her newborn
Don't fall in love with a boy who compares himself to Alexander the Great (even though they both won every battle they had ever fought in)
Don't fall in love with a boy who would rather look in a mirror than stare into your eyes
Don't fall in love with a boy who had enough confidence to make Kanye look humble
Because he will never love you more (at all)
Because he will never use his greatness to climb mountains for you rather conquer you instead
Because your eyes only gave him a new source of reflection
Because no matter how much confidence he had, he will never use it to build you up
Broken girls cannot love secretly broken boys.
Tattered converse cannot stand next to Italian leather.
Despite being fostered by the same unknown force, insecurity and bravado cannot fall in love.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC