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Some say
We lost our way
When it was
This or that way
I say
We lost our way
When we forgot
It was all a play
When the flower
I painted blue
Lost her pedals
Turned into an abstract *****
And I was ok with you
But you forgot how to play
And that is why
My stars are twinkling
And yours are fading away.
Doesn't have to be that way
But that's the way it is
Some say.

You romanticize glamour
and wear it like armor
It's a tight fit
You really should quit.
Like I did.

She said laughingly.
Dec 2021 · 39
I Remember Romance
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
Do I have your attention
Can I shake you
Till I wake you

Have you lived up to
All your impossible dreams
get rich quick schemes

Have you landed on the moon
In the middle of a monsoon
swept up in moondust
lover of gold dust.

Watched the flame
Flicker in shadow
Against the blacked-out tv screen
Thought about duality
Are we more reflection or flame
Is that the problem
Forever wanting to give it a name
Define it
Refine it
Sign it
Dissect to understand it

Remember when
I remember
there was wholeness
and funness
I'm an old-fashioned stance
I remember romance
I remember you.
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
Does the weather know its' winter
the chill came promptly
on the winter solstice
breezy in your face
not yet cold
tissue paper blue and gold
threatened to fly away
I sat that day
contemplating nothing
in shades of blue and gold
and green
I mean
you always need a little green
contemplated the meaning of green
light green
is that what I mean
what do I mean
who's asking.
Dec 2021 · 35
Waiting for a Song
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
Waiting for a song
beyond right or wrong
where are the notes
where is the song
there is a song
of this I am certainly right
make a little space baby
go into the liquid night

doesn't have to be me
doesn't change much for me
just make a little space
put your head down
take off your imaginary crown
let it all fall down
let it hit the ground
where it's soft and round
you won't die baby
maybe beyond right or wrong
why are you kissing me waiting
for a song
that never comes?
Dec 2021 · 37
Hush, Hush
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
Need a clean brake
why do they always try to put me
in my place
what is this status madness
life's not measured in
increments and fancy wines
donut holes and dollar signs
don't package me up
with your morning cup
caffeine adrenalin junkies
morning rush
morning hush, hush
i'll see what you mean
if you mean to be seen
or not
so let it out
scream and shout
all the hurt you feel
searching for what's real

have i come to a mission
missionary of light
who determine's
what's wrong or right
god is closer to you in the night

hush, hush
little baby
momma was always there for you
always tried to care for you
my ways are mysterious
but i'm not delirious
now i'm furious
need to get back to kindness.
Dec 2021 · 30
My Life in Kodachrome
Bo Tansky Dec 2021
so to you too
always you too
too, too, too, too
too many twos
what about duets
and too toos
i stray
not like that brat
Slide one
how to get to you
never was a way
there was
of this i was sure
could i find
an open door
whats behind the green door
i get it
you didn't want to go for a ride
around the block
was all i asked
and whats behind
whats behind
behind that
i,m such a nut
tracing you back
to before
you were you
Dead Wood
be a friend to you
if only i could
haven't even gotten to slide two
and i'm *******
Slide Two
Tracing you back to me
Somehow I thought i could
you slammed every door in my face
what did i ever do to you
to deserve
how could you do this to me
Slide three
someday i'll be found
wandering aimlessly around
then i'll say
leave me alone
i'm going home
and don't want to be found
for my home is far away
and this is just a temporary stay
Slide Four
Nov 2021 · 804
Idiot, I know
Bo Tansky Nov 2021
Yes, I wanted it to be
Flowery and sweet
Stars fell from Alabama
and all that
It could have been sweet
I'm trying
So sorry
I'm this way
Whatever way
That makes you hate me so
I'm sorry
I'm such an idiot
I know
Why can't I just let things go?
Oct 2021 · 27
Come To Me
Bo Tansky Oct 2021
Get out of the way
Get out of the way
Hear what I say
Get out of your way
Wayward child
Wild child
Give up the fight
Child of delight
Get out of your way
Child of light.

You chase your shadow
Thinking it real
You adore your title
Like an armor of steel
You crush your opponent
Like a good soldier should

Get out of your way
If only you could.

Who is the one
You seek to defend
To the bitter end?

Sweeten the ***
It's not asking a lot.

Try to trust a guru
of nothing much.
Bo Tansky Mar 2021
You choose.
Determinism or free will?
Are you an orange clock?
Destiny or not.
Many choices collapse
Then there were two.
I saw through the looking glass
Reflections there
Only were you.  
Could it be any other way?
I don’t know.
Can’t say
If it was
It wouldn’t be a choice.
And it was
Just because.
You chose.
Bo Tansky Jan 2021
I have contemplated the meaning of life
As if contemplation imparts meaning or depth
As if meaning imparts meaning
or depth.

Then in linguistic merriment
I leapt
Ad Infinitum
Ad nauseum
Ad lib
Ad absurdum
Life as a language
Ad verbum
And round and round I went
Always Looping back to myself
Then in one grand sweeping motion
I deferred to you
Where and then
I came to rest
Always different
Yet always the same

I have contemplated the meaning of life
As if there were somewhere to be
Someplace to go
A vagabond’s journey
How funny
A lesson learned
A righteous rule
A digital ballroom
A barroom brawl
Y’ all
A loveall.
And I have contemplated the meaningless of life
Just something to do
Perhaps better than nothing  
Nowhere to go
No roadmap to get there
Here where
You are
I am.
Nov 2020 · 57
A Dark Retrospective
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
What poison-tipped arrow of fate
Tempted, toasted, and toppled
Life’s plotting midwife
The denouement of my life
Neither laudable nor laughable
Naughty or nice
Happy or sad
Virtue or vice
Scripted yes scripted
Ghostly ancestral scribes
A lineage of lifetimes
The rules you live by
To get by
To die by
Tick, tick, tick
Your imprint on momma duck
Tick, tick, tick
They wind you up
And let you go
The rules in tow
And at the final unwind
They want to know
What did you learn?
What do you know?
I ****** to move through
the density of doing
Oculists all of them
Why then
Do I grieve you so
Rest in peace
Darling dead
There is no peace on earth
And nothing to be said
There is nothing to know
But, remembering makes it so.
Nov 2020 · 50
On Hating Me
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
Sam, I don’t know when
You got your degree
But it wasn’t able to keep you free.
I threw away the key
You know Sam
The finite
Just ain’t right
What did you find
Those alabaster walls
You so carefully adorned
Wait, no wait Sam
Why am I asking you anyway?
That’s not it
Yes, that’s it
What did you forsake
What did you fake
Why do you hate?
For God’s sake
Tell the judge
This is not a date
And it can wait
No, wait
Here comes the chorus
Sam, you thought I’d say, judge
But you know Sam
I’m not that cliched
For God's sake.
But wait
Anyway Sam
They all have an opinion
On you.
And that’s something you hate.
Maybe we should go out on a date
But wait
You hate me
But why?
You must mistake me
For someone else
Maybe you

So, Sam
Forget the whole **** thing
This is the thing
It certainly can wait
Because Sam
I have nothing to say
To hate?
Nov 2020 · 84
Slave to His Mercy
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
God picked up a pitchfork
Jabbing me in the gut
All the while shouting
Get out of your rut

Startled, I said
God you’re supposed to be
Gentle and loving
Said God
“You’re right.
If you think this bad
Wait till you see what’s coming.”

“What, what, what,”
I stammered.

Pointing his finger at me, he said
“You’re not through
I have other plans for you.”

The Almighty was so irreverent
It was hard to tell
He was Heaven sent.

That’s the way the story goes
Sometimes he’s nice
Sometimes he’s not
Try to remember
What you might have forgot

God always shows mercy to his flock.
Nov 2020 · 471
I’m Letting it Go
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
I didn’t know
You could love someone like this
I didn’t know
You could squeeze the life
Out of the ones you love
I didn’t know
I wish I had known
I’d of let it go
A long time ago
I just
Didn’t know

I’m letting it go. My love
It’s for another time
When the past catches up to the future
You’re home free
Arrive as destiny
A time when
When you’ve slain your demons
Traced them back to the very first baby hurt
A time when
It was all play
I was you
And you were me
I’m letting it go.
Nov 2020 · 172
Embracing the Emptiness
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
The canvas is even emptier
Then before
A blaring blanket of white
Even emptier than
The paper on which you write
No lines for boundaries
No direction
No guidance
Does it define us?
We keep on writing
To fill the emptiness
With prettiness
That denies us.
Nov 2020 · 65
Embracing the Cynic
Bo Tansky Nov 2020
Standing naked before creation
Close to the rugged, shadowed edge
Where “Metaphor and “What’s it all for”
Made a pledge
They agreed to disagree
It was just as well
They came from opposite sides of the fence
There were times when it got pretty intense
And it wasn’t always romance

Embracing the edge
Is the only sensible thing to do
Cliff hangers are not for cereal killers
Who take their cereal without a crunch
Who don’t play well with others
I’m going on a hunch

“You talk in sugar-coated sentiments”
Said, “What’s it all for?”
“What’s more
I have no idea what you’re talking about”
And followed him out the door.
Aug 2020 · 60
Bo Tansky Aug 2020
The baby still cries
But she’s much wiser now
She ran home
Pounded on the door
Please let me in
I live here
Where you are
The rest
Just an empty quest
For nothing at all.
Aug 2020 · 59
Bo Tansky Aug 2020
You can’t get out of this intact
Your perpetual power machine
Leaves you feeling so dissatisfied
And out of whack
You think you’ve lost her
Your ship of self-discovery
Your dependent tendencies
Create propensities for freedom
But you fear the formless
Honey, you’re going down with the ship
Hook, line, and sinker
Never mess with a free thinker
You push everything to the limit
Feed your soul black goo
That sticks to you
Fooling yourself with self-deception is cruel
You ignite the fight
In your fright
And all your misinterpretations
Reminds me of all the conversations
Never had
Doesn’t matter to you
Doesn’t matter to me
How very zen of me
Excuse me
What did you say
I know all the sides
And none of the entrees
So you can call me
A know-it-all
Or don’t
Call me at all

You judged me through
Your own craziness
So tell them all you lied
Tell your sister
And all the others
Tell them
You were trying to rescue you
From you
And you
Didn’t know what to do
That guilt trip you took
Down distortion way
Had you down on your hands and knees
To pray.
Those lies you told
Don’t soil your soul.

Except for the hunger you feel
You know this is dead
Thinking instead.
You made it all up
In your head.
Aug 2020 · 60
Thinking it Through, Love
Bo Tansky Aug 2020
Conditioned as an old leather glove
Fitting as an endless search of love
Jammed together as knots on a rope
Sliding a slippery *****
Me as Misanthrope
Lover of hope
Hater of nope
Some smooth as a quiet summer eve
Chaotic as a garbage heap
Wrapped in twilight sleep
To haunt your night
With barely a peep

Hey there.
Over here.
Where oh where
have you come from?

A heavenly abode?
Where here is there
And there is anywhere.
Where thoughts play their part
Awareness got its start

As you
As me
Must we rethink
Or is it the other way around
Chasing the thought down
Into the silent part of town
I have booked a reservation.
Into divine silence
A less traveled designation.

Seems so random
Yet orchestrated by a great hand
Could it be
Like as puppet master
Some ephemeral higher self
Prodding and poking
Pointing to directions
You dared not go
Pinched by pain
You don’t want to know.

Do you feel the push and pull
Of an authoritative hand
A gentle guiding
A silent light
And the pulsing prism
Through which you know
If the light seems to dim
Know it’s only a momentary respite
A letting go
A rabbit hole
One needed to go down
Something one needed to retrieve
Before another go around
To the sender of this thought
If you dwell in the shared silence
of connection
Two ends
An invisible cord
One of perfection
The other
How to be sure of
Only an uncertain knowing of  
A certain direction
Is showing.

Some thoughts
I would send back  
If I could, love
But never the feeling
For I am
The colors with which I paint joyfully
The words with which I speak lawfully
The chair on which I sit hardly
I was what you wanted me to be
To please
But that was never me
But a part of me

Just as well
For if every story tells a lie
How to know, how to tell
Truth be told:
Some would say
There is no truth.
Nonsense I say
If that is true
Thinking it through
Proves truth
If a lie
Proves truth still
Some tell tall tales
Some tell short stories
Some leave breadcrumbs
Along the way
Some ***** monuments
For another day

I am
Gods mighty vessel
Might you dwell there?
In the house of the seventh abode
Where the choice and the chooser are one
And on the coattails of god you rode
For awhile
As you
As me

To choose from
A potpourri of probabilities.
A thought repository.
A heavenly quarry
With a penchant for fair
A warehouse of prayer
When received
Then perceived
Leaving an indelible imprint
On the blackboard of spacetime
By a lofty stenographer
To ones’ utter amazement
On judgment day

as a field
of flowers
a ground to surround
Vivid colors all around
Shapes and sizes
Never seen
No in-between
No upside
Take no sides
Only a fire
To express desire

You are the dreamer
And the dream
Lost in a dream
Of yourself
You believe
You can be what you want to be
Royalty, celebrity, scoundrel, rat
Queen bee
Sometimes the queen loses her head
Plays dead
What a sight
All in a daydreamers’ night

Dare you know peace  
But for only a moment
The dreams a momentary forgetting
From the shackles of separation
Have you awaken as me
Is this your dream too
Have I
Awakened as you

To know you as me
To be free and in love
Kneeling down to your knowing.
Thoughts are the clothes you wear
The outer bank
A personal think tank
A familial thought bin
To recycle them?
To trace every thought back
Looping all the way back
To the start
Before thought
Before you
Before me
To the first shared feeling.
Like an evening prayer
You are always there.
hiding behind
The clothes you wear.
Jul 2020 · 59
Summer, 2020
Bo Tansky Jul 2020
I would tell you
If I could
Just how
Neurotic this life could be
Why the whole world is in a state of PTSD.
Of the worst kind
Between you and me
An alien invasion
Would seem a social occasion
These days
Will Phoenix rise from the ashes?
Are we all going to hell
In a handbasket?
Wondering what creative works will arise
Out of the ashes of humanity
Some forged in the fires of hell
Some catapulted into a brothel of insanity
Some say we’ll get through this
Some lost in the 3d matrix

Baby wants to go swimming
How neurotic can this life be
So at the end of the day
With thick bolts of lighting
Streaking fury
Across the night sky
Not a night to go swimming, but
Baby always gets her way

She is never where you are
Except even you, I regret
Can be an invasion of sorts
Like one trying to get out of ones’ own head
Here where she thought she’d share it all with you

Whether or not
You wanted to hear
What she wanted to say
I’d say not
It only matters that
Baby gets her way
And at that
she’s so good
And somewhat cute
She pouts and sighs
And cries, cries, cries
Pity. Pity, pity
Oh pity me
Baby nurtures her pity
Like a fine cup of tea

How many permissions does she need?
We all have our boundaries
Trespassers all
Yours suffocate me
You pounded on middle c
Choked on conventionality
Exalted banality
never acknowledged egality
You doused the fire
Put out desire
How unreasonable of me
To think
We could ever be
Like a lion and a canary
And a cage to come home to
I really didn’t know you.

You apologized to everyone but me
Oh baby
Please forgive me  
I was wrong and
I promise
You believe me
Please don’t leave me.
I’m down on my hands and knees
Begging you, please.

You can
Cry me a river
If you can’t forgive her
Then serve one master, sir
I defer  
let it be her

Don’t cry for me Argentina
If I’m not leanin
your way

You’re quite pathetic
But don’t let it
Get in your way

How neurotic can this life be?
These were all parts of her
Some she wasn’t so proud of
But what of it
We’ve all been there
Except for the saints before us
Whose halos get a little tarnished
From all the lies they’ve garnished
What of it, even
God doesn’t go around with a halo
On his head
Or does she?

Just a story
You don’t have to believe it
But. I know you do
Because it’s true

And that was her story
And now that’s his story.
Jun 2020 · 71
Say Sam
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.
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
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.

Who does she think she is?
But wait,
Could she be me
From the point of view
Of Infinity?
May 2020 · 76
Missing Soul Pieces
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

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

Washing away the lies
Lies there
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
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
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
Expressing only what they want you to see
O pinnacles of propriety
You lied to me
I believed the lies
And could not see
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
Didn’t want to say
I told you so.

Aries are like that
Ruled by Mars
And fiery.
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

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
Of Christmas past
Present and future
Specters of possibilities
Some nightmarishly so
Threatening your very existence
With things you do not know

Time equally
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
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
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
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
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.
Stepped over me
And left
What’s in the conquest?
What did you get?
Missing soul piece

Did you get what you wanted
Was it a success?
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.
Still in search
Of some pieces
I might have missed
Along the way.
Apr 2020 · 86
Into the Silence, 2020
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

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.  

To the unsung silence
Apr 2020 · 64
I Remember Mama
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
Wipe away yesterday’s
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  

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  
Mar 2020 · 176
Doing and Nothingness
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
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.
Mar 2020 · 90
My Existential Crisis
Bo Tansky Mar 2020
Remaining in a state of suspended animation
While life goes on before me
But I, like the thinker
That stonecold
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.
Feb 2020 · 78
Angel of Intention
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,
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
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.

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
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.
Bo Tansky Jan 2020
Laughter and rueful tears
Welcome to the party of pity  
Where all is not, not as it appears
Where there, come as you are
And not as you appear to be
The child is clinging to you
Warmed by the fire of your fears
I have felt the chill
In your stone-cold eyes
Telling me
Not to come near
But nay
Pass the event horizon
A confluence of consciousness
Beckons me there
Like vapid air
Felt the nothingness there
Swept without resistance
Where the fires of love’s ardor
Threaten your very existence
While the abyss of your lair
Laid bare
Loves insistence
The coat closet of your don’t-mind
Where there
Is no room there
To let
Nothing to know
Nothing to let go.

A cosmic joke or masterstroke?

Squeezed between now and forever
A rosary of pearly nows
Denizens of now
Of refection, reflect
Lost in the dark abyss of nothingness
You find your way out
Jan 2020 · 80
Don’t Cry, Baby
Bo Tansky Jan 2020
The child is petulant
The terrible twos
Lasted 42 years
Then along came the teenage years
She was always in tears
It’s not that baby
Refuses to grow up
Doesn’t want to grow up
Maybe she’s scared
Somebody gave the baby a bottle
She seemed fine for awhile
Then something erupted inside her
Where did that come from?
Where is it going?
How long before we get there?
Are we there yet?
How long before we get there?
On and on and on
The baby never shuts up
Blah, blah, blah
Then along came the tears  
Then blah, blah, blah
You can hear her even when she isn’t saying anything
That’s when you hear her the loudest
She doesn’t understand what you mean
Are you trying to tell her
She’s not good enough?
What does a baby know about not being good enough?
She only did what comes naturally
And signed it with love
No one believed her
Well you know how kids are
Short-term memory
And all that
She’ll forget about it
Sooner or later
Maybe then she’ll learn some manners
Learn to not speak her truth
Learn to pretend
Like everyone else
You don’t trust her
You should trust her
She never lied to you
She’s so bothersome
Why be bothered
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Would it be better if she said
Hush baby
Don’t cry, darling
I’m here
I’ll always be here
So hush
Don’t cry, baby
Baby don’t cry
(That works)
Go where you want to go, darling
I’ll always be there for you
(that works even better)
Will she ever come out of the shadows?
Reminds her of a spooky soap opera
The Shadows
“The shadows don’t lie”
In a Rod Sterling voice
She never watched soap operas
Except at a Chinese buffet
As a captive audience
On a barely audible screen
Slurping Chinese noodles
Almost better than spaghetti
Don’t cry, baby
Don’t cry
It’s just a story
A narrative
Not necessarily true
But true if it’s true
Not out of necessity
Forget it
She’s crying again
She just feels sorry for herself
All the time
She’ll get over it
Babys always do.
Dec 2019 · 103
No Pretty Poem Will Do
Bo Tansky Dec 2019
Has love taken a back seat
To je ne sais quoi
How shall I say this?
How I say this
My poem of economy
Somewhat gossipy
Always honesty
Let it be twisted
Or sordid
Perplexing complexing
Say ultra-expressing
Let it be newly and lonely
Never a phony
Let it have rhythm and rhyme
And turn on a dime
Let it live a life
That’s never been lived before
Never been thrown across the dance floor
Never met a matador
Never wanted to
The bull an unwitting ambassador
What revelation, new sensation
Unique oration
Bow down imagination
This poem, this poem
Can it stand alone
Proud among giants
That cut to the bone
With wit and gritstone
Birthing a milestone
Scripting a headstone
Will it leave a legacy?
For posterity
Or passions’ peculiarity
Who knows,

I have loved
So, have many other
If love has lost its’ meaning
No lovely line matters
Petitioning God on hands and knees
Just chatter
What revelatory point of view
Are you
If love has lost its meaning
No pretty poem will do.
Dec 2019 · 93
Bo Tansky Dec 2019
What did I do to deserve this?
I died and no one was there
Perhaps a gentle knowing
Foretold the ending of despair.

Cocooned in a velveteen darkness
A peignoir of shimmering stars
A constellation of good nights
Echoed from afar

I but not I
Crawled on all fours
Over pillows of stone, then
Laid on a bed of time
Above me the pine
Silhouetted on a black canvas sky
Has the baby bird earned its wings?
When finally able to fly.

I but not I
I am the pine above me
And the ground where I lie
And the darkness that surrounds me
And the void into which I died

I but not I
Am you
The self of all selves
Am I
And the magpie and the fly.

Still the night
Alienated from the day
Still the mind
Alienated from the thought
Still, and
If you’re very quiet
You can hear the night reply
With a whimper and sigh-
Dreams are meant for dreamers.
Tis the nights’ lullaby.

And as I gazed upward
Infinity split inside me-
Just to go where it wants to go
Just to be what it wants to be.

My God, I’ve been blind
But now I can see.
Nov 2019 · 95
Not You
Bo Tansky Nov 2019
The morning unclutched
Its clenched claw opened
The violet flame transmuted
Yesterday’s debris fueled the fire
Leaving space
For desire.
Pressing a memory foamed mind
To the edge of the bed
Elusively remembering the night
The depression you sank into
Worn without regret
Worn familiar from
Many nights before
Foam caging the day
Like clay.

New feet  
New hands to show the way
You are the way-shower
I will follow you
If you show me the way.
Oct 2019 · 139
Disunited States
Bo Tansky Oct 2019
These days
Was it something in the air
Rancid spite of the right  
Or the self-proclaimed hubris
Of every self-proclaimed guru
Of certainty turned onto its left side
Two camps had pitched their tents
On opposite sides of Main Street
Rooted in the traditional
With a propensity for being right
Missionaries for some diva god
Who has come to save the planet
Kryptonite is dynamite
We’ll only use it if we need to:
Blow up the people
In order to save the world

Although they deny they’re on a mission
When they’re in remission
The bombastic roar of broadcast rhetoric
Scripted with a very felt pen
All armchair generals
Arguing with a passion
Dare not felt for one another
“I can figure out the world
But you, Sir
I have a problem with.”

The streets emptied of nonconformity
Littered and poised with positioning
Salvos of so-called sanity
Fronts and flanks
In every shade
But grey
Postings on every corner
Foot soldiers of the faithful
Rallied in like-minded circles
For comfort and confirmation
Aplomb with understandings grasped
No room for namby-pamby
Confirmation bias
Only hearing what you want
Fire if necessary.
**** what you cannot agree on
Ignore what you cannot understand.

Choice was not an option
Backed into a corner
Conformity was
Comfortable as a worn recliner
Recliner beware and be bothered
We’ve been here before
Do you remember
Words, words, words
And sticks and stones and all of that
Was never true
Every politician worth his salt knew
Speeches that sear by fireside
Emblazoned by passions ignited
And smolder in the light of day
A Colosseum of coifed gladiators
Spectators raise a sword
And toast the spoils.
Words avow
Ammunition packed in a pistil
To go
More powerful than the splitting of the atom
Is the splitting of minds.
When it doesn’t feel right.
And you know it’s not right
Because that’s the way it feels
And feelings never lie
But people do.

A world-weary of war games
What kernel of dubious truth
Do you separate from the chattering chaff?
And cling to
Not this
Not this
Not that

The riptide of dissension
Tearing at heartstrings
Tearing the tents apart
Mars on a rampage
Venus in an iron cage

And in the quiet of night
A respite from being right

Homeless & disenchanted
Walked the dark streets alone
Pitched a solitary tent
And spent the night
Under the stars
And dreamt of peace
and beauty.
Bo Tansky Oct 2019
With your back to these walls, Grace
You can maybe find what you’re looking for
Yourself, that is
Leaning forward to where you’re going
On such a strong-man structure
To lean on
Tell me why then, Grace
Are you still lost?
You say
No, prissy blabbering
Emotionally soaked
Out of control
Tendencied impresario
However forward leaning
Grabbed your pathetic existence
Straight shots stilled from your
Continuous frame of reference
In high definition modality
Captivating you and you and you and you
Completing the picture perfectly
Until there was you.

Yes, so true, but
Would you mind
Standing a little to the left
Of what’s left of me
The light just isn’t right
It doesn’t flatter from that
Angle of circular momentum

Your designer jacket and collection of silk scarves
Complete me
Darling, don’t you look so swell beside me
I should stay
And make you pay
For all that you have done to me
And if it weren’t for **** there wouldn’t be tats
Or tots
And if it weren’t for feet
There wouldn’t be boots
Maybe that’s what I am.

Leave me alone
I’m processing
How hard it is
To maintain a closet full of designer clothes
And you can see how they’re so me
And they keep
Me & My Walls safe
From being naked in front of you.

I’m dying and you won’t talk
I’m dying
And you won’t play
I’m dying
And you won’t fight
And I’m dying
And you want to remain a victim

Shot calling
Control freaking

Me & My Walls
Are putting up
Patterned wallpaper
Meandering among the waves and tiles
Grace prefers ginghams
I’m thinking herringbone
With a splash.
For distance
And visual acuity
So, go away and you will know
True control.

I passed through hell
On this dizzying journey
And hell, well
The fires there
Shed profuse light
On the darkest parts of my soul
It was quite a trip
Illuminated by contrast
I saw the devil brake-dancing
With an angel on high
The angel had just
Come from an AA meeting
With God
Where God bestowed the title
The devil was quite a rascal
He had fallen from Grace
Grace was not who he was looking for
Disillusionments abound
On this end of town
As it turned out
She’s perfectly fine
A chiseled china doll
But Grace doesn’t live here anymore
Grace is an open door
And yours is shut down tight.
The shows over.
Say Goodnight Grace.
Goodnight Grace.
It’s time to go.
Sep 2019 · 125
Hide and Seek
Bo Tansky Sep 2019
When you hide, you seek
On the day I became Jesus
I let the sun shine
The grass grow
The music play  
The crows crow and
And the babies cry.
Oh Sweet Jesus Jezebel
How strange can it be
How ordinary to
Get out of your own way
He said
"There's nowhere to go
And nothing to do."
You asked
"Who’s at bat?"
I answered
"I already told you.
No one."
I’m not sorry for being Jesus
And you shouldn’t be either
If you think it’s broken
Give it to me
I’ll fix it
With my omnipotent powers
But, listen to me Now
How Can You Fix What’s Never Been Broken?
You’re hiding in plain sight.
I'm not meaning to offend anyone. It was written metaphorically and in the spirit of fun, but I think you already know that-lest I become doubly offensive. lol. BAT
Bo Tansky Sep 2019
I remember Mama
When the primal scream
Was all the rage.
Ironically and quite literally
Past the somberness and nervousness
You felt
At my unwelcome birth
As I took my first
Battered baby breath
Bursting baby life, once again
Cradle the crib that rocks
Cradle the baby that walks too soon
And talks too little
Cradle the crescendo of emotional wreckage
To follow
As baby after baby
Took its emotional toll on you
Cradle a lifetime of wanting
Looking in every lost and found
For you

This is the conversation continued
Distilled with candor
Comported with clarity
Time has imparted
More real
Less resentment

I can see now
Your displeasing wasn’t personal
Even as it felt that way to me
My gains may have been small
But they were big to me

So many years have come and gone
I’ve learned once again to stand on my own
Yet still, I question if that’s true
I guess in some ways
We were alike
Me and you
There were so, so many differences

I lived tucked away
In ephemeral world of ideas and thoughts
So many books
So many mysteries.

Not by choice
Headfirst, I came in that way
You lived in the world of 3d-
Kids, diapers, doctors and such-
Yes, I know how it sounds
But you would be wrong
I was never a snob
I wanted to share everything
You didn’t want to know anything
You never asked
And I never offered

I needed you to paint me with the colors of love
And not the color of green
I needed you to love
Not envy me
To make me right not wrong
For being me
And not you.

I needed you to see me.
This though
Through the eyes of love.

I needed to forgive you
To forgive me
For all the resentment I felt.
And I wanted to say
In my own way
I am grateful that I
Chose you to be
The mother in me.

And I cried
When I wrote this poem
Because it was
So close to home.
Sep 2019 · 219
If the Shoe Fits
Bo Tansky Sep 2019
Down, down, down I went
Like Alice on the rebound
Perchance, said I
Down, down, down I wept
Like Lucy in the sky
NoTime to think about it
NoTime to ask why
Is there even a shred of love
A LostLove  alibi
Quite honestly,
I’ve NoTime to cry
And if I’m being quite honest
Which I don’t know if I am
It was quite a rush, but hush
It wasn’t a wabbit I chased
Or a well into which I fell
But a feeling that I have never, ever felt
While tumbling down the back stairs
Out of a dream, it seems
I kept falling
Deeper and deeper  
I fell
Where and then and there
I thought
How unfamiliar
How dreamlike, it was
Then I paused in mid-flight
Waiting for a hammer to strike
We were so alike
Would I find
Would I find myself
On the shelf
A jar of disembodied hearts
Teetering on the high
Impossible to deny
Up there and then
a talking, out of character story
Perhaps the mad hatter
or simply mad as a hatter
am I
Which of course couldn’t be me, you see
I suppose it could be I?
Could be or not
Maybe my lie is a lie.
How much deeper could I fall
Where and then and there
Would I
How to know you know
How much deeper
Did the NotWell

Go, go, go
Said I
Before I died.
Not sure my words
Like bad little soldiers
Staying true to the moment
In time.
Means NoTime at all.
I may be the sanest person I know.
Yes, I believe that’s
Even if it’s a lie
If the shoe fits
I may have found my prince
(At the ball)
And it may not be
After all.
Aug 2019 · 98
Freaked Out!
Bo Tansky Aug 2019
As much as you’d like to make light
Of the subject.
And I mean that
Always in a good way.
It still
Freaks me out.
In its stillness
Yes, I’m friggen
freaked out. No doubt
Too much clarity makes me
Wish I was blind. And I
Immediately take it back.
I know you don’t mind
Because I’m so **** superstitious,
and yet
Totally practiced
I’m writing on now
Paper-thin and one-sided
Without my glasses,
blurry and a bit lopsided.
With or without-
On a pale horse
I see you approaching.
And yet
I’m totally freaked out.
And yet,
Sometimes I feel
might it be-
a more comfortable
And yet, adlibbing
How long will I be?
Freaked out
By the living.
Aug 2019 · 1.2k
Either Way
Bo Tansky Aug 2019
The day dripping
Towards its final demise
The night uncovered/discovered
A cover for all the nights’ disguise
Either way
Making way
For the ticktock busyness of the fray
Time to dress/undress
Whatever’s underway
Such a lonesome stay
Either way
It’s ok
The where is neither here nor there
She said
She was
A crepuscular creature
Of neither night nor day
A potpourri of either way.
Revealing simply what she wants to say.
A reconciliation of either way.
Aug 2019 · 189
ie, Instant Enlightenment
Bo Tansky Aug 2019
Instant enlightenment
That is, is it
All a lie
Are you, am I
Dressed to the nines
In trendy design
With no place to go
And nothing to mind
You read it here first
For better or worst
A modern-day phenomenon
Packaged perfect to know
Just add water
You’re good to go
Generational gibberish view
Who spurned the denim devils
In you
Bluejean blueprints
Attached to the past  
Of patterns and hues
Sleeve Sloppy revealing
Dribble drool feeling
Seer suckered
Taube tuckered

Take your patchwork punch
Take my cameo role
Handheld scroll
Poked in a fire of woe
Battle wounded warrior
Drowning to
Federations of fear
Leagues of sometime,
Donuts of denigration
Looking through the whole
Of integration
On a scout mission
Wizards of wondering why
Epiphanies abound.
And in the morning light
Silence is the only sound around
Why wait to get it right?

Oh, preachy poser
Pedantically put
But please just shut-up
If you can’t walk the walk
Don’t talk the talk
Up a crazy lazy river
Without a paddle or clue-
And who
Like instant pudding, I do
Instant coffee, too
Instant cake in a cup,
Microwave ready

Fear I’ve left something out
And nothing will ever do
The instant never needs  
To make-up to something new
And you who
Instantly knew
Don’t believe the story.
It’s all a lie
Even if it’s true
Makes a good story
But none of it’s you
Story characters in drag
In a romance novel or two
Only love is real
Or so I’ve been told
Playing a part
That never gets old
Address the unaddressed
Storied mess

Shakespeare in a silk shirt
Romeo is such a flirt
Juliet’s without regret
And yet
Lost in a speeding train of thought
Took the window seat I bought
Watching the living loving world
Pass by

And I
See waving at me
Michael with a golden sword
Protection from the lord.
Up high
How can this be?

Terrible, terrible low-down lying lizard
Am I
What of it?
Worse than infomercials
Role-playing rehearsals
Characters complaining
Insanely blaming
Always trying to please
Never at ease
Never understanding
But, I do
But I lie.
Commas go
Commas die
Always a busy but.

I know I should
But, I won’t
I know I could
But I don’t
So, go away with your stuck-up sail
It really is to no avail

Have you seen the broken bandage?
Wrapped around your battered finger
******* breaking
Bad blood oozing
From your packaged refusing
Never mind it was a nice story but was it true  
I never lied to you
I never lied to you
I never would
I conjured you
Like genie in a bottle of *****
Intoxicated by a vision of you
I know you aren’t doing well
Do tell
You won’t let anyone help
Don’t balk in blue
Think it true
Because you think you are
Only you
Because you are
Scared of what might be
Scared the story might be true
You could be me
Or I could be you  
Because the story and the storyteller are one
An Escher drawing
Drawing itself
In two
Two peas in a prissy pod

Have you reconciled your fiction?
Or is this an addiction
Affliction come true
Your magical silver moon swaying
Your chalice of still stars staying
Cups of fantasy flowing
Sun spraying days
Friend nor foe
I’ll never know

Remember the story  
Do you remember
I remember
Nothing’s changed
Tempestuous tweets
Trilling thoughts of verses sweet
For better or worse
If you follow me forever
I will follow you. +-
Feels like a tall story
It’s a leap of faith
Not a leap off a ten-foot story

Better wait till the morning
Jul 2019 · 93
The Muse and the Moment
Bo Tansky Jul 2019
Sugar and a little cream
Palliative potion of comfort
Elixir of coffered considerations.
Contemplated and envisaged
Morning brews,
Propositioning sunsoothes
Helios sweeping mightlight across
The metallic movingmorn
Undulating nightlight.
Topaz infused
Daydreaming muse
Stirs the digested amnesic night  
Drinks to
Apollo offline
Drinks to
The empty holy grail of evening,
While Helios slept.
Hallucinating prophecies of fleeting images,
Succulent hopes of happinesses
Drunken inhaled trippy
Of lore
And lay.
Oracled god of prophecy
God of healing
God of poetry
Healing lyrical music medicine
Hear my poemprayer
Hear my prayerpoem
Drink to
Elixir of life
Elixir of love lost.
Drink to
The elixir of a childless day.
Jul 2019 · 176
Ism Prism
Bo Tansky Jul 2019
Met you first at the edge of town
Where parallel lives converge
Too close to see the reality
Too close to see the merge
Entrained & double stranded
Twice abandoned
Forged in fire
Etched in stone,
Dressed in a serious tone

The divine definition
Served over coffee, wine, and repetition
The overhead sign flashed
Standby Alert

Never one to heed the warning
You were looking straight ahead
On an outward bound,
Dopplered red

The local doesn’t stop there anymore.

The stranger that you were seeing
Detached from all-mighty reason
Feeling tracts of the weatherworn
Like leather shorn
Shattered by resistance  
Battered by time and insistence
A legacy of perfectionism
Bestowed on you by dogmatism
Stirred by criticism
Seen through a prism schism
From standing on your head
Judging yourself upside down
Perspective’s reflection
Ism prison
Makes perfect sense
A hole in groundism

Storied teller without a soundism
Rhythm or such
Downtown, cafed, solitary lunch bunch
Saying no to this, no to that
So comfortable
When there’s something to defend
And there always something to defend

The exonerated accused of insanity
Righteous indignation abomination nation
To the guilty acquitted by reason of sanity
For strategizing one side
Side Lies
Channel changing and codified

The chips are played and unafraid
Free-floating on a reclining cloud
Hovering above the unavowed
Unbuckled crowd
Without blame or explanation

The hand that binds, rewinds
Will eventually set you free

The tracks began to dance
A lazy sideways glance
Carving a figure eight
Keeping time
With a measured gate
Pausing as they crossed
Hand over hand
In infinity seeing speck
An aspect
Dancing on ice
They spin
So without
So within
Pirouette going around and around
Everyone stepped aside
Later they all took a side

“Never saw it coming.

You know, he never should have left.

Yes but, how do you know it was him?

I heard she was bereft.”

The moment was tenuous
Always slipping from grasp
Always a handout for help
Always a mask
The mask it
Fell from where it was hanging and
Broke in half              
You were off autopilot
Without a staff

Yes, to whatever you say
I’m that way
You must first introduce yourself
Forgive yourself
For all the isms’
They were never ever you
The isms aren’t all bad
They just embody the essence
Of all that is had.
Jun 2019 · 118
Jonah And The Junkie
Bo Tansky Jun 2019
Distracting yourself with all the things of your doing
Little time left for beauty  
The people, the places, the problems,
The gardens below the deep blue sea
What next,
What to do
But not me
God spoke to you your divine mission
But you had other plans
Prophesizing was not your ambition
Accused of sedition
Your shipmates up roared
Threw you overboard
For refusing to obey the lord
Jonah in the whale chasing his own tail
Swallowed whole
It was a dark night of the soul
Dark nights don’t last forever
I’m hoping
The whale took pity
Spit you from nit-picky
Onto a sandy shore
It was there you saw her
A damsel in distress
Rapunzel in a Versace dress
You are in
Survival a la mode

Tell me
What is real
What fantasy

Danger lurking in your own backyard
Disguised as femininity
You swing from to and fro and
When push comes to show
All the things you know
While you row upstream
Adrenalin coursing like rain
Tendrils rooted in pain
You’re a ******
Just the same
Chemically constructed
but that
Keeps you on the safe track.
Jun 2019 · 255
birth to Mother Earth
Bo Tansky Jun 2019
You’ve come a long way
Some would say full circle
Where endings are beginnings
Beginnings endings
Never endings
Never beginnings

Birth to Mother Earth
There was a thought to come
Staging had begun
The veiled curtain parted
Where you danced as one
then departed

Destinations gleamed
Slates wiped clean
A lot going on behind the scene

Spiraling in hyper-space
Crash landing
Somewhere in time-space
It didn’t quite fit
It was
A loosely knit counterfeit

They named you
Cloaked you in shrink-wrap
Sheltered you in familiarity
Bagged and boxed you in
Taught you what they knew
Until you believed it to

Wanderer of the dichotomous night
Was It black before it was white?
Was it dark before the light?
Was it doubt before insight?
Have we come to reconcile the night?
Or for the sheer afternoon delight?

Chance is an orchestrated dance
Like puppets on a string unseen
Strung and scripted
Playing parts unrehearsed
Puppeteers will cheer
When you come undone
To yourself

Who is it about perfection?
That requires us to sow
Seeds of imperfection
A baptism by fire
Until all that is left
Is emptiness
And experience
Jun 2019 · 341
Captain without A Crunch
Bo Tansky Jun 2019
Standing naked before your creation
Too close to the ragged and shadowy edge
Where Metaphor and What the Hell is it All For
Made a ceremonial pledge

Not to Tell

“Embracing the edge is the only sensible thing to do.
Cliff hangers are not for cereal killers
Who take their cereal without a crunch.
Captain, you don’t play well with others.
I’m going on a hunch.”

“I have no idea what the hell your talking about, replied What the Hell is it All For” You talk in riddles and followed him out the door.
Jun 2019 · 86
Why Does the Night Cry?
Bo Tansky Jun 2019
Why does the night cry?
Beneath a char colored marshmallow sky
Perfectly fitting the black-tied blind eyed
Night by
Bye and bye

As an angry sky decried
Stratified and moody clouds pass by
They ask you to
Not ask why
Knowing you need to cry
Saw you hunch your shoulders
You were so very tense
You started to roar
Electric fly-by outcry

Then you tensely
Cocked your head to one side
Felt as empty as summer days
Where the light was so bright
You thought you would vanish
In a summer haze
Eminently either a flood or a roar
Helplessly, unpredictably more and more
And nothing more.  
And then-
It happened
It started to pour.

As morning dawned
You understood why.
But it was too late
To reinstate
Bye and bye.
Jun 2019 · 100
Destiny in a Straitjacket
Bo Tansky Jun 2019
Once upon a time
On a fence in a garden somewhere
Worse than Mary’s lamb lost in the woods
She hasn’t slaughtered the poor lamb
And fed it to the wolves
As she’s been rumored to
I lied when I said
Fairytales don’t come true
Why would Mary be so cruel
To make them eat gruel
If my poem doesn’t rhyme
Must be a bad sign
Because my hearts on the line
Because you left me behind
I need to read between the lines
But all I think about is you
So, in the same way they shoot horses
Tell me it’s not true
Save me from playing the fool
Because I’ve never been here before
And I don’t know what to do
Without you.

This must be a fantasy
Because I no longer need you to be
I made you real
Carved you out of wood
I’m a master carver
I love what I do
I love my creations
You can fill in the last line
If you want to.

Don’t believe what I say
Because I’m still on the fence
Telling Lies
It’s not true
This is me pouring my heart out
First, it’s yes
Then it’s no
Then go away
Then stay

Now wouldn’t it be so unlike Mary
To slaughter the poor lamb
She’s not that cruel

I know I’m waffling
The fence is narrow
And I can’t stay here forever
But don’t send the sirens just yet
I only meant
I’m coming down from the fence
The end.
May 2019 · 106
Snow-White Wears Prada
Bo Tansky May 2019
Andrea, here’s the update

Snow-white has run off with Happy after the Charming Prince to jail he went for kissing the girl without consent.

Wicked stepmother has cleared her name. The apple was a honey crisp, ate it herself, she couldn’t resist.
They rushed her to the ER. Pumped her stomach, sent her home in an Uber car.

Andrea Remember

how we rode our bicycles to the park on warm summer days. Mine a dull shade of green, clunky with fat tires. I think my father paid five dollars for it. You with a sleeker younger model. Didn’t matter. We were young, hopeful and complete with the moment.

how long has it been since we walked those hollowed high school halls, poofed hair, poofed pride, poofed egos? We thought we were something back then. The age of innocence, incense, and nonsense.

remember how we dutifully attended religious instruction every Thursday afternoon at Corpus Christi Church. Funny how some things stay with you and some things are on the fence.

remember the crowded lunchroom where our little clique met regularly at 11. I ate ice cream sandwiches every single day. I was size 9, you maybe no size at all, maybe zero or four.

remember the guy on the radio would say “especially you size nine.” No way would he get away with that today.  

you were always impeccably dressed.  A fashionista before anyone had ever heard the word. I especially remember that soft orange sweater you wore that looked so adorable on you.

Andrea Remember

all the boys we loved and left.

all the boys who left and broke our hearts. I remember you crying in the backseat of the car.

will we ever forget?

I remember the day you told me he had gotten her pregnant and they were getting married. Years later I met his son and he looked so much like him. Years later I met him, but it wasn’t the same.

we made a great team, you and me. You outgoing, gregarious and fun. Me quiet and shy. You were Penn and I was Teller. You always led the way and I always followed. I perhaps wanted to be you and you perhaps wanted to be me.

I almost didn’t pick up the day you called, not because I didn’t still love you. But a lifetime has happened since. How was I to fill you in, where was I to begin?

like a treasured yet comfortable keepsake, I had tucked you away. Distant memories flashed a do not disturb sign in my unsettled mind.

a snapshot, you were frozen frames in the reel of life. Young, long black hair flowing, petite and always from frame to frame in perpetual motion.

you often returned to me in dreams like the words to some lost but once favorite song.

we believed in fairytales then. We believed in love stories and happy endings. We believed we’d find our Prince Charming one day and live happily ever after.

perhaps my hesitation was a refusal to accept life’s changing seasons. You belonged to the spring not winter, the past not the future. Perhaps something more. Perhaps I knew in a split second my life would be changed forever.

perhaps I knew I would need to tell you how fairytales don’t always come true and you would need to tell me too.
May 2019 · 480
I Am An Artist, I Am Not
Bo Tansky May 2019
I am an artist
I am not
Painting with oils and with words
Painting arranging itself on a blank canvas
Words stumble and fall into calligraphed stanzas
I am only an artist when I am not
Words, dare I say my
If I’m lucky and don’t try
Favorite colors falling from a rainbow sky.
May 2019 · 100
Reading the Season
Bo Tansky May 2019
Seasons are quickening
Redshifting streaking  an ebony sky
Hurling meteoric handballs
Through the space of no time
Someone’s shuffling the deck of days
Reading the hearts and spades as they play
One turning into the other
The other turning into one
Diamond heart of antiquity
Crisp-clear seeds piercing crystal clouds
Torrents of thinking tears falling
Heaven's warehouse of available thought
Flooding the worn weary  
Seeking shelter
From themselves
Speeding down the highway of no time
Chasing summer
Chasing spring
Summer’s silence shouts from an empty rooftop
You’re an orphan now
‘How can this be’
You cry out
An echo reverberates
‘What was that you said’
Old man winter slugs through
The showy season heavy
Looking for the one that got away.
One doesn’t necessarily follow the other
Measured thought collapses onto itself
He doesn’t know it
And is okay
It’s warp speed
And a slow grind
At the same time
Summer was wrong
You’re destiny’s child.
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