#substitute
At The Cafe
I heard her say to the teary-eyed lady
as they sliced their custard creams,
" Move on and go find someone else"
As if suggesting to take that knife and slice
that face out of her brain and replace it with
another. As if perhaps she should cut out
her heart and separate it from the rest of
her. I suppose the thoughtless lady was only
trying to help. I suppose that's normal procedure
in such circumstances. Like quickly go find a
lollipop for god's sake.
I felt like saying to the broken woman;
wait a bit. No need to be in such a rush.
This terrible ache, this fierce wrenching
this oozing sore is love disguised.
You'll come to it. You will. No substitute
necessary.
That someone else is waiting
in the dim horizon, fresh faced and true
with eyes that pierce through
the mish mash of dough and syrup
of wounds and ruins of love and war
and sharp metal objects.
That someone else is you, whole
and undisguised.
You can't rush that.
You'll come to it
You will.
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 6:07 AM UTC
Cast to the river's depth
Punctured on prevalent pieces
Stone and flesh come to one
Commander has fallen
Leader’s reign comes to an end
Not by human hand
By chance
Roll fate’s dice
Taking up the mantle
Emotions soon dismantled
Feel like an imposter
Invading a title I never deserved
Everyone’s got their doubts
There are many routes
Down to the grave
Avoiding grief at all costs
Last time I led
Looked for bodies not men
Time taught me
Chance is the way of life
Brace the spirits of the men
Recognize the wishes of the women
“Welcome to paradise”
Who’s paradise is this?
Not one I pursue
Slung around wrists
Cold metal I was raised in
Leading brought me trouble
Now I end where I began
On the wrong side of life
Corrupted mind
Purified heart
It’s all I can muster
Fresh out of luster
Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 9:26 PM UTC
We hide in the saddest places
Because no one looks there,
Under the stones that have been left alone
Never to be unturned, I've learned
Its better to never open the bottle
They'd rather I wallow in waste
Because that makes me convenient, that's fair.
I'm the substitute even in the stories I write
So why would any other have any other sight?
Isnt that right, Claire?
Its easy to dance like no one is watching
When you know no one is watching.
Where's the auction I turn back on my body
The auctioneer is stuck, no one's wanting
The ghosts populate my cranium space,
The poltergeists are not done haunting
I want to taste real emotion instead of taunting,
I'm just a host for a past still walking.
They ask for real answers but my written tongue
Can spread darkness like cancer,
Can give hope to the hopeless
But some don't know what hope is
Can give hope to the hopeless
But maybe you noticed, now I'm the hopeless
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC
Writers,
poets,
artists,
songwriters
bleed pain into art.
But don'y you understand
pain is not art.
They embellish pain,
to cement the heartache.
They craft darkness
hoping to enlighten.
But in the end,
agony is agony,
no matter how you express,
how you make it bleed.
Emotions from words,
on tear stained pages
captivate readers
making them believe there
is solace in darkness
and leave them forlorn to be adorned.
But their intention was not to
glamorize plan but rather to let it be
their outlet of expression,
therapy and to create.
In the end there is no substitute,
agony is agony,
grief is grief,
illness is illness
and that what it will be.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:14 PM UTC
Affection for you I can't undo,
Adhered to you like a tattoo.
I'm a substitute, I know.
Hard for me to let-go.
Painful to dry the ink you dipped into.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 5:11 PM UTC
Dont you worry little boy,
in the end
you will find
a substitute
for every **** thing.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
**One after the other
I keep finding a substitute.**
*A substitute for love,
One by one they leave
To create a new mess
out of the old,
making me
colder to fold!
One by one
they venture into me,
a life to fulfill my dreams
A new dream I see,*
**To love each of them
Whether they stay or leave!**
10-06-2017
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 4:00 AM UTC
You were substituted with the words,
and I'm still writing.....
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
Away from the nicely lit place,
where guests chatted and giggled,
we sat face to face, in the after glow
of our smoldering new found love,
for quite a while,wondering within us,
how could emotional fireworks blow up
amidst prolonged pandemonium,like this?
Words to us, seemed quite out of place
I just gazed and gazed in to her eyes
she blushed,like a first time kisser.
A faint beam from a distance, made her
emotionally charged face look all aflame.
Her nostrils pretty attractive,perfect rings
looked flared,like an animal's,I noticed
that catches a scent, awaited for long;
seemed like she had an urgent need to express.
I had a guess, but her words were distracting,
"I love your fingers"she lisped, my index finger
on the right hand she started to pet,
"It's so enticing"she spoke as if
she substitutes a thing for one different.
as the compulsion was such.
Time stood still, in the middle,but that wasn't a hitch!
I remembered she had to leave, shortly
but the tide of our passions was flooding still,
so we created darkness at will around us.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 8:25 AM UTC
*Relationship after relationships
begins and ends quite often..
Each are are superbly selected
not by money or humor or any other thing
except the mystery they hold..
I am a curious lover,
I seek mystery in each of them
until one leaves,
I seek for the same substitute all over again!*
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
she's not mad at him
she place all blame on herself
they both agreed; only friends with benefits
she can't change the way he feels about her
so why does she put herself directly
in the line of fire
even if it may sooth the urge
for just a little while
maybe she'll add an extra
splash of red or pink
to her lips enticing him
to pucker up
she doesn't want to be alone yet she knows
he is just her imaginary substitute
a fake smile, holding back her tears,
and walking away into her cave of loneliness
will the lights of love ever come on for her
or will she be sitting in the dark forever?
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
Not as sweet, but
hits the spot
on this rainy
Summer’s eve;
underneath the
bursting clouds,
taste buds
seeking a release.
Need a little
pick-me-up,
a familiar medicine,
satisfaction guaranteed,
with a lenient
return policy.
Finally, you feel her
shape, unseen
on the bottom shelf:
a natural alternative
to the sugar you can’t
have.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
"Ma'am, will you buy these?" the saleslady asked Claire once more.
Claire looked at Edna like asking her help in making a decision.
"Do you want them? Then buy them," Edna's voice is low. She pity her sister but she doesn't want to show it to her.
Claire got her wallet and smiled to the saleslady. "I will," she said.
Tomorrow, they will go back to their province. Claire will not ask Ron again to give the original wedding ring to her.
Tomorrow, Claire and Ron will wear the sign that they are husband and wife.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
I always thought I knew what love was.
Then I met you.
You could reach places of my soul
that even I didn’t know existed,
each smile was another reason to live,
Every time you laughed
I fell more in love.
every time I looked into your coke-and-whiskey eyes
each pant after a kiss carried a thousand poems
about those eyes in it.
You gazed at me like an artist
would admire Van Gogh,
you held me like I was the answer
and for a while, I thought I was, with
Your fingers pressing into my hips
in a way that I later found out
was to intercept the thought of your hands
on her hips.
You played me
like I was the last cello on earth-
but not in a good way.
And I know it’s pathetic,
but you’re the heaven
and the earth to me,
because you were the only person
that could make me smile the way you did.
It was supposed to be just ***
but I’m in love with you-
present tense.
I want to lay in bed with you
under sparkling blue Christmas lights
strewn out across my walls like everything
I never thought I could say
but found the opportunity to,
I want to kiss your scars,
I want to fix your broken hearts with
duct tape and a song,
and I want to admire every inch of your body
because it’s perfect,
even if you don’t think so.
I want to do things to you
that I’ll never have the opportunity to do again,
because while everything about you
wrecks everything about me
in what I thought was
the best possible way,
I turned out to be a rebound.
A substitute
for a girl who gave you a murky puddle
just big enough to catch the reflection
of you two hand in hand,
while you drowned me in the clearest ocean
I could have given you.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
He steps out for air
It is time for a smoke
He craves the nicotine
Yet what he exhales
Is electronic.
It is Thursday night
Happy hour about to start
He is not allowed to drink
It has the same color
Apparently with the taste
Of what he is aiming for.
What then is the point
To root for a substitute
Is it so hard to swear off
We need familiarity that
suits.
A discrepancy between
What is and what seems.
Using this word to replace another
Perhaps one to soothe the torture
Finding excuses to justify actions
A lie in disguise enough to comfort.
He decides to go cold turkey
It is harder but at least
He is not pretending
He feels his truth, forgets the substitute
He learned what passive smoking means
And as of late,
Apple juice had become his drink.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
There’s a noose around our necks to drive out feeling,
To **** the sweetest instincts planted deep within our souls.
It’s too hard to feel, it hurts too much, so **** it –
Replacing it with lust so that we think we are alive
But we have lost it.
I think therefore I am? So said that Greek man.
Someone could likewise reason that “I feel, therefore I am”
It’s a possible conjecture but the suffering incurred
Is overboard , impossible, I cannot cope with that.
I’ll take the substitute.
This lust gives me to think I’m feeling something,
Be it money lust, drink, drugs, or sexuality or things.
Somehow, though my ego escalates, I’m feeling grand,
But my relationships are failing, flawed, I cannot understand –
I’ll take the substitute.
I’m at the bottom of the pit. I’m on the outer.
The substitute has got me. I’m in isolated rink.
It’s living hell. My friends are gone, and everything is bad.
I cannot cope with this. I need some love. There’s none around.
I’ll take the substitute.
I’ll take the substitute.
I’ll take the substitute.
I’ll take the substitute.
This is hell.
God, where are You?
“I’m right here.”
“I took the substitute.”
"I know."
"It's finished me."
"I know."
"Help me."
“Will you take Me now?”
“I sure don’t want the substitute any more.”
“Will you take Me now?”
“Yes.”
“You believe Me now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe that I love you?”
“Yes”
“Do you understand, I did the substitution for you?”
“On the Cross?”
“That’s it.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you trust Me in all respects?”
“It’s either You or the other substitute?”
“It’s either Me or the other substitute.”
“I’d rather trust You.”
“Come then. I love you.
Walk with Me and I’ll restore your deeply broken heart.
You are My child. Draw ever closer, never to depart.
Revive yourself in Me. My Words will give you back your Life.
I’m your blood brother, at your back when problem scenes are rife.
My Spirit, Truth, empowers you in strife.”
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC