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Last night I was betrayed,
again, are you surprised?
Last night I found out how,
alone I actually am.
Last night my body shook,
from knowing the unknown.
Last night I saw the light,
light I didn't want to see.
Last night I realized how,
how much I love the darkness.
Last night the light truly,
intimidated me.
Last night will become my,
biggest anxiety.
Last night forced me to open up,
open my eyes to the dishonorable.
Last night you drove me home,
yet you still drove me away.
Last night made me wonder,
will I soon catch a break?
Last night my heart shattered,
and has not stopped breaking.
Last night showed me my value,
at least my value to you.
Last night you left me in,
light that was blinding me.
last night you lied to me,
last night you lied to me.
Last night you lied to me,
way to many times.
Last night you affected,
me in ways you cant imagine
Last night. Last night. Last night,
will I ever stop saying that.
Last night. Last night. Last night,
will you stop making me.
 Dec 2018 Evelyn Ann
Poetoftheway
,how do you know when
(a human is too broken?)




<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 Oct 2018 Evelyn Ann
Jellyfish
Why does everyone want to lose it?
Isn't it supposed to be somewhat sacred?
I've always thought so.
It's too bad that mine was stolen from me.
She begins to sing,

Voice Billowing,
Like the breeze,

As Sweet-gum tree's prepare for war; anticipating the winter-tide.
Bleeding red complexion,
like great armies retreating; petrified.

Her soft, cold, breath
canters across my crimson face,
Electrifying the skin with pipe dreams of summer fantasy.
The moon pale with pumpkin pigments in autumn twilight,
Chanting songs that bring the still night scampering to life.

She sings,

With taciturn tunes
and mindful musings
Calling to frigid spirit's softened screams for freedom

She sings

And with the breeze she freezes time
and see's
like the wind
She is free.
I wrote this the night my friend passed away. An interpretation of her transition into the beyond. To me, she became everything. The wind, the moon, the trees. Energy. She spoke to me with every gust. Flooding my brain with memories.
 Oct 2018 Evelyn Ann
Cné
Endearing is the moon tonight
and through its silver glow,
She whispers secrets of the things
that only she could know.

Of lover's trysts on summer nights
of kisses ‘neath her smile,
Of secret murmurs begging "friends"
to stay a little while.

Of sweet caresses cherished
in the fog of memories,
Of moonlit walks in arbors sweet
'neath swaying groves of trees,

Of shadows cast by clasping hands
of hearts that feel desire,
and unrequited love
               that feels like death
                              from friendly fire.

Of promises in passion made,
with no chance to fulfill,
Of loneliness, of happiness,
of parting's bitter pill,

She whispers of the romance,
of the love that's hot and cold,
Like love that loses passion
but sustains us getting old.

She passes in the evening sky
and frolics with the stars,
And leaves this mortal on the porch
to mend life’s wounded scars.

Yet, never does she realize,
the secrets that she'd shared,
Are common knowledge
                         here on earth,
where love has all ensnared.
Writing poetry ‘neath the ever glowing cold full moon tonight, from the rambling thoughts swirling in my head.
The burr shaking in a
Bohemian Awakening
(Long) vintage stare how
her words were spelled
out snake tongue (Short)
The Death
Whats Up* Chap of a sport
Whats Up Doc
Going tick tock Mr. Rick
Don't trick this document
Oh! where did it drop
What!! He made the drop
dead gorgeous dress?

Born to die last lip of the spoonfuls
Cut to the chase with my chap lips
More deaths on the rise to deliver 
 
How love was the
mind controller
Hands out of the grave
couldn't hold her
Like the Boulder Chief head
Hothead on her shoulder
The better herbs of medicine
His racing car hot flame
gasoline

The Rapsody of her melody
holding on to her life
What a unique wife
Until time changes her moods
Opening up her world of flower buds
A different silence of home goods
We do believe we can be

The Champions

But the fallout of promises
Or jobs never big advances

Oh! Christ
Her chapped lips needed some
time to heal where is her next meal
The heat catching a death of cold
But staying alive the second
wind hot Ferrari Italian drive
Feeling deathly-sick faking
your death was no trick


Who disappeared never
really certain
if it was truly their
Building the fire mountain
Don't keep complaining
where the time went
Death of a cold wishes
not to die
where is our youth
Only takes one amazing birth
Lips kissing the fountain
The fortune teller booth

Who would want her chapped lips
Baby Ruth crunchy bar
down the mountain
The love confused her the
death would be
faster going once or twice up
Guilty trip or the graveyard shift
Hangover ski lift with her
Beeswax for chap lips
Taxman on the number rise flirting
What a good chap
In her coffee cup a little Robin birdie
told you

You made your own grave
time on my side or hanging
by a thread of stitches
Hats off up and away
Getting a green facelift of witches
You lived so far the good life
Feeling so wanted
he cooked your meals
He cleaned up your mess wearing
The Chef Apron 
 *He's Wanted
the sign
All over the world,
his face is wanted
The fool lips the fuller up lips
The heart went out of touch a deathly cold
She is wearing her heart-shaped lips
Doing what she is told
How the world has been
smudged with
rules
Noone knows where here

All her cracks of her lips
The cute button nose
Not Rudolph the Reindeer
The hunt for the ****** nose
Up close and personal
Lip to his lip journal
Such odds of numbers
So many even deaths
like tumblers
Through the loopers
Love and resentment
The world is a village commitment
Mcdonald Man beef and the
melted lady
cheese
whooper
You got an alert notice
The cast of spells the
fire went high
You couldn't even put it out
The death of a Salesman novice
Papercut snip computer nasty chip
The charcoal grill felt like it burned you
The fires new hires of California
The peace sign
Imagine people with no

Holy water
Whose mind is in order
The Dementia patients
Your own flame so many hot flames
The rest of the world caught a death
of a cold like an old flame

*The Goddess of Venus

The darker edge his cool hummer
Going on a shoot with chapped lips
Who is really keeping tabs

There was nothing to believe in to hold
To restore how do we balance the world
But we are not Gods
Chapped lips caused
such an alarm
All things take time then
it's in harm's way
Someone will understand to pay
Like a settlement
Deathly gray hairs on the pavement
Getting hurt but the best Godly soil
is still their like dirt
There was no reception hell broke
loose riot
Everything was naked sound
No time to sing a duet to
feet on the ground love couplet

That snow drift fall on your face
Who will be where you are in
the next century place

Perhaps your last picture
before you die
How the singer live on
to be remembered
  Why are we not discovered
Can we be saved from redemption
Like you have been squirted on
Like Heinz Ketchup did you catch up
To get his kiss did he feel your death of cold
But never to exist
What is on our bucket list?
This was something I thought of not everything we breath is pure that we adore
times are changing don't you feel your getting a death of a cold to think about it
 Oct 2018 Evelyn Ann
sushii
in the face of tragedy,
innocence is almost aborted in the womb of Life.

furthermore, to keep this little piece of fragility--
this little bit of light that is left inside,

one being divides into two.

once arisen from the deepest of slumbers,

the face you see in the mirror
isn't quite the same one you saw
the night before.

puzzled, but too dazed to pose a question,

you continue onward

with your uncomfortable day.

when night falls,
your hands are around a neck,
squeezing, choking,
stealing away the last of the air inside someone's lungs.


in a flash, your eyes open.

there is a tightening in your hands--

but you are too tired to wonder why.

you arise from your sullen slumber,

and look in the mirror.






why are you smiling?
 Oct 2018 Evelyn Ann
Pagan Paul
.
Like a watermark through crisp white vellum
a face appears through the veil of dreams,
to colour wash away a montage of image
and decorate a mosaic of sleep dust seams.

As halcyon lakes waterfall into prism nebulae
and the courtesan face evades its emotions,
inevitably slipping between the chasms of space
like golden dolphins through plasmic oceans.



© Pagan Paul (01/09/17)
.
Old poem, rewrite. PPx
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