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Bo Tansky Jun 2020
The Queen Bee
Who does she think she is?
Sam, I tell you
If you give her an inch
She wants a yard
Not just a yard
The whole nine yards.
Sam
She said
If I questioned her authority
She’d bite off my head
Get over yourself I said
I’m dead to your threats
Get diva down
She said she’d turned the corner
And was headed down the home stretch
Home free
Was she?
We’ll see.

Here is how I see it, Sam
You only have authority over yourself
At the risk of repeating myself
Get over yourself
Am I right Sam?
And by virtue of the authority
Invested in me by Me  
I declare myself a sovereign something
A sober sometime
A soulful somebody
With a song in my heart
That only you can hear.
When we’re apart.

Is it true Sam?
That the known
Can never know the Knower.
And while they’re one and the same
It’s such a shame
That control is the name of the game
It’s no mystery
This has been known
Throughout history.

Between you and me Sam
We see the world for what it is.
While we see the world
For what it could be.
Perfect harmony
-Perhaps-
Sam
If you’re a bit bored
Throw in a little discord
To fight the ire
Or fuel the fire
Throw in a little red
To never be bitter
Throw in a little glitter
Because oh
We are so fancy
Yes, we are.
We are.

Sam
Who does she think she is?
But wait,
Sam
Could she be me
From the point of view
Of Infinity?
Bo Tansky May 2020
Morning shower was wonderful  
Although I always shower alone
Who is the one who follows me there
Where I lay restless my thoughts bare
Live streaming rivulets crystal clear
Lost in a watery mist
With whomever I dare
My reluctant nakedness  
Bringing thoughts of you near
  
What safety here
What denied demon deity
Are you
What vampire warmth *******
Shadow dancing
Dumb down daring
Lives here
Am I waking from the dream
Is it all it seems
My body
My soul
Lay bare
Perhaps if true
That I have always showered alone
Till I found you there


Who is the you
Of whom I speak
Pieces of the whole
Yanked from my soul
Incomplete  

You hide in a shower of lies
Whoever you are
Masquerading as truth
Though truth be subjective
I’m told
Take off the blindfold
You have been here so long
The waters turned cold

Would  
Washing away the lies
Lies there
Hope
Dreams
Plans and schemes
Try to stay alive  
Lazy mantra
No work
For you.

For me
An emotional confessional
For the cleansed of perfection
I thought-
Of the sequence of events
That led to you leaving
The madness of mania
Reaching a fevered pitch
A fire of despair
Contagious as it draws near
From bed to bed it jumped
Unconscious
Retaliation of
Of outrage and contempt
Inoculations against the lie
Of feeble fallibility
And all sensibility
Was gone
I was aflame
And you the fire.

Alas the fire has died
  
Chiefs
All of them
What was it the chief said
Hold on to what you believe
Even if it’s a tree.
A tree
That stands alone.

Trees that stood alone.
All of them
All three
Trees that stood alone
Branches rigid like stone
Arthritic roots digging deep
Olive branches
To cover the shame shifters
Name game blamers
Who left the house
Through the back door
Metaphor
Expressing only what they want you to see
O pinnacles of propriety
You lied to me
Worse
I believed the lies
And could not see
I
Sometimes delving deep
Into the craziness
Of a felt connection
Screaming in silence
For you have
For you
Whoever you are
My reason for living
My fury at dying
My anger at the lies
My hurt that won’t heal
My life a disguise


I reject the madness of projection
Take back the parts that were never mine
Take your sad story
You need it
To stay alive

It’s only
A good detective show.
Searched for the missing pieces
And
Didn’t want to say
I told you so.

Aries are like that
Ruled by Mars
And fiery.
Headstrong
And wise
With the moon and the sun in Gemini
As of this writing
Truth-seeking Aries
Will never tell you a lie
Competitive but not in a mean way
But blunt
Sometimes
Blunt


Three chiefs in a room
Was definitely a crowd
What’s more
There were actually
Four or more
You couldn’t see them though
For they were lying low
Parasitic opinions
Prodding for advantage
Plotting
Punishing
Ghosts
Of Christmas past
Present and future
Specters of possibilities
Probabilities
Imagined
Some nightmarishly so
Threatening your very existence
With things you do not know

Time equally
Spent
Between and betwixt
Not seeming to take sides
Lest it seems a trick

Looked you in the eye
Casual enough
Look away
With a casual sigh
Timing is everything
Not to mention the conversation
Lost in the looking
Nothing really lost
Nothing really found
What did you say?
And can you repeat that
I was just wondering
Daydreaming to be truthful
Why should I listen to you
and
Why did you wear blue  
It’s a funny question
I know.
And can you please repeat what you just said
I was trying to read your expression
instead
I know I must sound an idiot
Isn’t funny how I wore blue too.
Between him and him and you
I wrote three hymns
And a hallelujah too
Maybe it all played out as it should have
With no could of or
Would of
A natural softening of the boundaries
Perhaps a dissolution of egos
Led me into your inner chamber
Like Mars
The god of war
Destroyed what was not real
And then receded
You pleaded
For me to go
Quickly.
Three was always a crowd,
A necessary triangulation
A supply chamber
For those who wore a shroud

Now heard you say
Now go away
Loud and clear
Why so loud and why so clear
Did you think me hard to hear
Could you not have whispered low
Softly to go
Bt no
Then
It was a literal death toll
For you too
I could not say
You could not stay
There was nothing left to do

You picked up what you could
And leftover me.
Bereft
Stepped over me
And left
Nevertheless
What’s in the conquest?
What did you get?
Missing soul piece

Did you get what you wanted
Was it a success?
Then
In the end, it was all worth it
It seems
The Machiavellian end justified the means
I’m not really sure if this is what I mean.
My words seem so inadequate.
Perhaps the best defense is an offense.
In any event
I’m off the fence.
But
Still in search
Of some pieces
I might have missed
Along the way.
Bo Tansky Apr 2020
An unmoved silence fell
Palpable and surreal,
empty swept streets
of billowy notes
frightful notes
making no comforting sound
pestilent in part and unfamiliar
the worst part.
part earth
part mystery
part necessity
part curious destiny

From up above
the birds had
momentarily had
mad had
stopped.


Then had
Wild with a fabulous fury
Unfurled a hurried
Frilly crescendo
a thrilling rage
a medley  
a melody
a harmony
a coming of age
Released cage fury outrage.
A warning whistle
To take flight
I have Felix insight
We all have our nemesis.
The chorus continued.
Then quiet.

The dawning of a new age
A warble in the fabric of time
A fluttering in the unflappable
Felt for and across time
You couldn’t put your finger on it
It was untenable yet real
As if
Time had collapsed
Like a wave function
Like you had flatlined
Like a thousand deaths and counting
Somehow still existing
but existing somehow still.
In the silence.
Of the now.  

Listening
To the unsung silence
Somehow.
Bo Tansky Apr 2020
The morning woke
The world woke
The sun woke
He, she, they
We all woke
Conjugating the morning
Even the shapeshifters woke
Are we all not shapeshifters?
In the legacy of time
Spiraling ever faster
Destinations unknown
Extinction or resurrection
No one knew
Maybe a prescient few
They weren’t saying

I remember mama
Those were the days
Do you remember mama
The days before
Gloves and masks and social distancing
A coronation of germs
Belied a nation of fears
Staying at home
Masking the tears

Do not come near
Printed on the masked faces
A grocery cart
Wiped clean of degradation
Marking the space
Keeping us
Seemingly safe
An aisle of suspicion
Grabbing a tissue
To weep
Or
Wipe away yesterday’s
Issue
The goofy man
Standing at the gate
With newfound authority
Barking out orders
The new rules of late
Exchanging amused glances
With the shopper behind me
Has it come down to this
Somethings amiss.

The kind got kinder
The mean got meaner

Do you remember, mama?
Those were the days
How I wish I could say
good old days

Every generation
Had its trials and tribulations
A fight for liberation
From all the masks
That shaped  
Inspiration.

I didn’t understand yours
Do you understand mine?

I’m staying at home, Mama
It’s where you wanted me to be
To allay all the fears
You never discussed with me.

Are we all not shapeshifters
Of the third kind?
Masking the wounds
Of another time?
Looking for liberation
In all the wrong places
Where all you had to do
Was look inside of you
If you dared

I remember Mama
And I think I understand  
Now.
Bo Tansky Mar 2020
Let me tell you a story
Not so long ago and faraway
In a verdant land of doers
The doers were you and me
And just about everyone you see
The doers did the same thing every day
They did, they did, they did
The doers who did, who didn’t know better
They named the land freedom
The doers in this green freedom land
Were suddenly forced to stop doing
They looked everywhere for something to do
Everything had already been done
There was nothing for all the doers to do
What to do?
What to do?
They lamented
If we can’t do this or that
What, then, is there to do
To the doers doing was everything
So, they did
The only thing left to do
They did nothing at all
And then something magical happened
You guessed it.
They found what they were looking for
It was everything!
It was always there
Hiding in nothing

The last place they thought to look
Stunned
The doers looked at one another
Was it even possible?
How is that possible?
When the doers thought about it
It was always staring them right in the face
Of course
Of course,
they thought
It was so obvious
The doers found
What they didn’t even know they were looking for
It was nothing at all
It was just something to do
And to the doers
That was everything.
LOL
Bo Tansky Mar 2020
Remaining in a state of suspended animation
While life goes on before me
But I, like the thinker
That stonecold
Untouchable
Nobody
That resides
In the stonecold
Emptiness of nothingness
Strangely where it all began
Void of my happiness
And touchiness
A nothingness
That knows itself as everything
Who are you?
You pretend to be God
All knowingness
Then you pretend to be me
All neediness
Who are you?
I have pled
And I have pleaded
And beseeched your help
You kept the mirror held up
I didn't fall in love
With me

So, I’m asking you, God
They tell
Do tell
You tell me
To love me
You love me
Till I love me
We can never be
Then why God did you create me?
For company?
Please answer me.
Bo Tansky Feb 2020
I am that I am
Not what I am not

Just the same
Looking down &
Flying low
The angel of intention
Wants you to know
Of all the millions,
Trillions of stars in the sky
You are the lone star
That knows why
You prayed for a reason
It wasn’t the season
As reason is the long way home
And you’ve been so long alone,
And
You see the why for and the how
And the love that is now.
The season of reason has come and gone
No abstract equation
Tome of persuasion
Looking for answers
Out there occasion
Can be found.

To be
The love that is now
That knows no limits
Eternal and limitless
Somehow
How forgiveness is meaningless
Your innocence is all that I see
Into the green, some scene somewhere
I’m never alone
Without you
I think I’ll go on living
What for?
Is life worth living?
Down to the bitter end
An illusion or metaphor?
Each day worth waiting for
I know not what
Have no answers,  
Only questions.

Love
Can I call you mine?
Are you a force?
A river that can’t be stepped into twice
Never the same
But, glorious
  
I hope you forgive me my sins, then
As I know there are many
If only I knew
What to do
Believe me, I’d do it
  
A kernel of truth offended
Upended you
I never meant to hurt you.
I’m trying to be more like you.
I put on my man shirt
And man pants
Refused to dance
And didn’t say a thing
Will that do?
Perhaps you’ll say
What’s gotten into you
Mirror on the wall
This isn’t like you at all
I know, I know
I just don’t know what to do
I’m a little lost
Without you.

  
I’m grappling in the dark
With multiplicity
Shattered pieces of my broken reflection
Sugar-coated intention?
Angels are creatures of invention.
I thought you knew
A treaded needle
To sew the discord
A recurrent chord to please
Amplifies my ardor
And then I want to kick you
Into kingdom come
Wishing it over and done

Crowds of chaos and
Cranial confusion
Contusions of caked-on batter
A battering ram
Aimed at my head
I’m dead
To all the illusion
Stuffed in a too-small space
And all the other ones
Like counting crumbs
Coming home
Labeling all the soup cans
On the pantry shelf
For future reference
Bringing the outdoors in
Where windows of light
Singe the demons of the dark
Conspiring to keep apart
My hopeless heart
Hurts
Although I know
We’re all one
Why do I feel so separate and alone
One mind creating fairytales
Out of pixie dust
Out of stone
Will my time ever come?
Are you still on the run?

It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
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