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Jude kyrie Jan 2017
Infidelity Is Fatal
A short story
With a twist
By
Jude Kyrie

Henry knew she was cheating on him.
No specific proof but he got that bitter feeling in his gut,
you know the kind that's always right.
Little things bothered him.
Like Meg not getting home until 6:45 when she finished work at 5 pm.
What was happening with the missing hour
that she should have been home.
Probably ******* some lover somewhere.
She always said oh I called in at the Mall
or ran into Betty her best friend
and stopped at Louie's Bar
for a glass of chablis.

The other thing was the phone calls.
She would put the phone down as soon as he came in the room.
Redial gave no answer at all but that was just a signal
he had read about lovers morse code
Let it ring three times to answer
or wait for the second and third call.
Yes for sure she was ******* someone.

No wonder Meg was stunning at thirty-five
her figure was great she spoke softly and was kind.
The first to offer her help to any worthy cause.
Decorated the church at Christmas and Easter.
She was a beautiful woman.
And some ***** was trying to take her away from him.

The final straw was the trip to LA she said she had to go there
for a meeting but LA was not in her territory.
Henry forbade her to go
but she got angry for the first time in twelve years of marriage
and told him to mind his own ******* business.
Jesus, she never swore.
For sure her lover would be with her
making a patsy of Henry with
Meg moaning ******* in the hotel bed

Then the doozy
he found the gold cufflinks with a small diamond in.|
He knew they were not for him
he never wore cufflinks in his life except on his wedding day.
He did not even own a shirt with a folded french cuff.
Yep, it was a gift for lover boy.

The phone rang it was seven o'clock it was Meg.
Hi Honey, I am going to be really late
I was at the mall and met the Bryants
we are going for a drink want to join us.

He had herNo I am meeting up with David
Evans for a poker game I will be late too he lied.
He knew for certain she was with lover boy at some ****** hotel
He probably had her down to her Bra and ******* right now.
The rage screamed in henry's chest.

The phone rang again
It was actually David Evans his best buddy.
He told him the full story about Meg
and her lover leaving out no detail
David felt he was losing it
Look, Henry.
Megs loves you she's as straight as an arrow,
You are just worrying about nothing.
Meg would never ever cheat on you buddy.
Then he told him about the cuff links
They were hidden in her ***** draw.
He had found them in his search for evidence.
He said silly they are probably a Christmas present for you.
No way, said Henry.
No way. I don't use Cufflinks.

David was worried Henry sounded like he had lost the plot
Look, Henry, I am coming over let's set up a game of pool
Get your good scotch out Buddy.

Henry put the receiver in its cradle|>
Then he went to the desk in his Den
in the locked drawer he pulled out a smith and wesson.45
And slid in in his belt.
It took him three hotels to find her
Her BMW that he bought her
was parked in the back of the carpark
Meg was in it as was a man was in the passenger seat.
He crept closer it Sam Bryant
Megs best friends husband

He was a homely fat **** with a big gut.
What the **** could she see in that loser?

He must have a **** like a ******* horse thought Henry.
But he tapped on the window with his gun
Meg saw him a shocked look on her face Henry what are you doing?.
Don't pretend you don't know you cheating ***** he yelled.
Put the gun down Henry for god's sake.
They ran away to the hotel bar and henry followed them in
He caught up to them and pulled his gun out pointing it a Sam's head
What the **** do you cheat on me with this fat ***** for?
I had a dog that was not as ugly as him
and I shaved its ***
and made it walk backward cried, Henry.
What do you mean said, Meg?
You think Sam and Me are having an affair, Henry?
She almost laughed.
But she was cool really cool.
It"s obvious, the ******* cufflinks.|
They are for you at Christmas.
you been in my drawers again Henry?

Well, Sam, you get ready to pay for your sins he said.
he lifted the gun into sam's face.
A woman screamed from the door
Henry, please don't hurt my husband, we got kids.
It was Betty sams wife.

I told you we were going for drinks henry said Meg
Put the gun down.
I even asked you to join us remember?

The door opened again two policemen with revolvers drawn
pointing at henry one shouted drop the weapon NOW!
Henry turned to face them
his gun pointed in their direction.
Then six shots from the police revolvers
blasted Henry into eternity.
He lay dead upon the floor.
mEg knelt by his body weeping.

The funeral went by quietly
only a few people attended.
Henry was regarded a bad news in this town.

It turned out the gun in Henry's hand
could not have fired anyway.
The firing pin was removed

A month later

The gossip column in the local rag had a story

Meg Williams and David Evans
Are pleased to announce their marriage
At the St Jude’s Church of Salvation.
Ms.Williams is an investment adviser
and widow of Henry Williams.
The wedding is on Saturday the 9th of February
The couple will be honeymooning in LA
Where the bride said they shared
their first romantic moments together


The only hole in Meg's story was fixed later.
She placed the shirt with french cuffs in her closet.
Wrapped in pretty Christmas paper with a note.
To Henry with all my love.
Meg

It was not needed
But God knows who Henry had blabbed
the cuff links story too.
Better to be safe than sorry
Smiled Meg
As she dropped the firing pin
of a Smith and Wesson .45 revolver
Into the drain twenty miles from her home.

The End
Just because you are not paranoid
does not mean there's no one
out there that wants to stick a knife in your back
Jude
I always knew that lightning
could split the sky
as the world stared calmly
at all that lies inside distraction.
That just a touch from the strongest hands
takes the breath away
from all that has been written
on the edges
of thoughts of satisfaction.

I have always felt the shadows of the night
even though they were hidden
from the innocence of my caring view.
They are just as bold in the morning
like silvery crystals flying
by sweet lovers
as glints fading into a powerless time
we once pursued.

Constant tears
have been inches apart
from the concern felt for foolish reasons,
when what is unknown is revealed.
Moreover, I have always known
that anguish is felt by beating hearts
when everything carried on their cufflinks
silently cries not to be real.

However, I did not know
that lightning is arranged
in wild waves we feel in our sleep,
as it does not strike disturbingly.
Nor, that the shadows of the night
can come unmasked
to trace its fingers as an exhale
across hearts with destinations
unknown to me.
© 2011 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Changefulstorm Poetry - www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
T R Jan 2019
Stripping You of Your Privilege
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your phone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your gold wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

You slide off your watch and surrender it

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building, shining in the sun.
Empty and crying for their former owner

Shocked, unable to resist,
you untie and remove your shoes,
peel off your long dress socks

Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your smooth, clean size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?

You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming

Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your bare privileged feet

Now the plan!
We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug,
expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will take away your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your prestigious upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence

We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose
Show off your chest and your arms
Flip flops and work boots
and sweatshirts and flannel.
You will LOVE them!

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
those symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered feet


Now - your soles on your own kitchen floor
Making dinner for me
T R Jan 2015
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your Iphone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long male finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your gold wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building.
Empty and crying for their former owner
Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your naked size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?
You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming
Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your naked privileged feet

We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug, expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
Male eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will **** your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your powerful upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence
We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your male ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
******* symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered male feet
rather bitter but intended as humor too
Sofie Louise Aug 2023
You gave me your grandfather’s old cufflinks
For all my plaid shirts
When I still had my hair short
Do you see the same person now?
I never bought my own clippers
Always borrowed from the guys
Maybe because I knew it didn’t last
T R Nov 2014
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
male face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your Iphone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long male finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your gold wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building.
Empty and crying for their former owner
Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your naked size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?
You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming
Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your naked privileged feet

We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug, expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
Male eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will **** your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your powerful upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence
We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your male ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
******* symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered male feet
an angry feminist takes over a man's life
Izzy Stoner Oct 2013
Somewhere in this town there is man with his feet bare.
He has spent the last hour staring at his toothbrush and trying to remember how to leave this room.
His fists hold fingers that are twisted into paleness:
Like jaws too small for adult teeth.
The bathtub gapes up at him, yawning in his peripheral vision,
He remembers that two feet are just as good as six when it comes to sinking.
He never did learn how to swim, but
Like a fish out of water knows
The sea can make short work of accidental sailors
And the gurgle of a tap can sound like the tide coming in.
The bathroom mirror is not kind to him:
His imperfections make apologies he simply won’t accept.
Ribs forming corrugations on his t-shirt, as though his bones are trying to escape from the confines of his skin.
The porcelain lip of the sink continues to pout, its expression a perfect ‘O’.
The plughole is wearing lipstick today; blood red,
As it has been every day of this week.
Thoughts are like spiders webs, he thinks, constructed by moonlight then torn down in the morning
Occasionally he’ll still catch the dew.
In the sterile light of an eco friendly bulb, he holds the mirror back with both hands, one hinge broken.
He wears his heart on his sleeve, cufflinks cutting off his circulation.
In the shadow of the cabinet, are kept row after row of soldiers he uses to fight off his demons
And below that another regiment to handle the effects of the others.
He says, “All I am now is a synonym; and alternative to what I used to be.”
As alive is in likeness to living.
As the sun is, to the infertile glow of his grandfathers TV.
Donall Dempsey Nov 2018
"DO YOU HAVE A QUESTION?"

her heart was a red
fire alarm

going off
with nobody

paying it
any mind

her heart was
an evening hillside

as the sun went down

the light stealing
into the ground

her heart was a favourite
pair of cufflinks

with one link
missing

or an earring found far
too late many many

years later

her heart was a lute
that was mute

unplayed for
many many moons

her heart
was a house

burningburningburning down
razed to the ground

the sneer of her
pyromanic lover

lost in the shadows

her heart was
the junk mail

that came in one door &
out the other

instant *******

she felt as if someone
had pressed DELETE

her heart was
a crystal ball

that could foretell
nothing....nothing at all

her heart was
a knocked over cheap cocktail

that left a nasty stain
on the carpet...on the wall

her heart was
a tiny torn pink knapsack

that held all
she had known

her heart was
the forgotten iron

branding itself into
her nice new blouse

her heart was
a poppy seen

from a passing train
there&gone again

her heart
full of the perfume

of memories that refused
to ever

...go away.
T R Sep 2014
Here you are, all dressed up
To take me out to dinner, our first date
In your Armani pinstriped business suit
Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks
Polished black leather Italian shoes
Your BMW waits outside

I changed my mind
You will cook dinner for me right here
No, don't complain
Take off those expensive shoes and socks

I want you barefoot in my kitchen
Catrina Sparrow Dec 2012
the clouds are breaking
slowly
and sweetly
and just enough to let ribbons of sunlight splash down on our faces

let's play today
let's fill the car with gas
and beer
and horseshoes
and disappear for a few hours on end
further south
on the lake shore
let's run rampant today
kick off our shoes and paddle over the cracking pavement barefoot
at full speed
and full of laughter
let's jump in the puddles
and build in the mud
and dance in the wild flowers like we used to
before we learned that others may be watching

let's fly a kite
unfathomably high
upwards enough to tap-dance through the rings of saturn
and scoop us up some treasures-
astrological costume jewelry just waiting to be adorned
let's sing like we aren't afraid
snap our way to center stage
and bathe in sweltering limelight for the world to hear
we'll sing away all our blues
and the rest of the world's blues too
let's jump off the high cliffs
in our steam pressed sunday best
to show at least ourselves
we're all we've got to impress
and as we're weightless and pressurized
beneath the surface of a glossy green lake
let the buttons
and cufflinks
and pearl earrings fall away
so we can see ourselves some clean way
again

let's forget
let us never remember being scared
and lonely
and lost
at cumbersome crossroads of the past
let's rebuild ourselves from scratch
press stardust and dirt
from the ground up
to make us new
and real
and something we can finally feel proud of
let's be magic
light in the dark
and love to the lost
we can heal hearts
we can hold hands
we can be friends
and be happy

let's play today
i wrote this on may 27, 2011.
i feel like it applies, with the new year on approach.
T R Jan 2015
Here you are, all dressed up
To take me out to dinner, our very first date
Even more handsome than in your corporate office
So dapper, dignified, distinguished,
so impeccably dressed and groomed

In your Armani pinstriped business suit
Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks
Polished black leather Italian shoes
Your BMW waits outside

Well, I have news for you....
I changed my mind
Yes - changed my mind
We will stay home tonight
You will cook dinner for me right here

You are stunned
"ME?
I have a reservation at the finest restaurant
I know everyone there
And I don't know how to cook!
I know you're joking..
You must be."

No. No joke.
Give me those keys to your BMW.
Yes – the car keys
Take off your Rolex wristwatch
No need to look at the time.
Time to get cooking.

No, don't complain
You’re not in your office now

And one more thing.....

Take off those expensive shoes and socks
I want to see the cuffs of your
hand tailored navy blue pinstripes
brushing your
naked toes....

You are irritated, annoyed, frustrated
As you obey, resisting all the way
You give up your keys with the BMW symbol,
Your heavy masculine watch,
gleaming polished shoes,
still warm from your feet
thin black dress socks

I know it is frightening for a man
like you to surrender his shoes
and by the way
I do LOVE the shoes...

They just don't belong on your
feet right now

You call the restaurant and cancel
Shoeless and carless
Suddenly a servant

I’ll read the recipe.
While you peel the potatoes.....

I want you barefoot in my kitchen
Tallulah Oct 2012
A shadow of a man ******* up space
Pressed suits & cufflinks without a face
No emotion just a ghost of a man
Hovering closer to an empty plan

A wife at home with a hot dinner
Ignorant she is feeding a sinner
She ignores the smell of perfume
For fidelity is what she’d rather assume

Stuck in this vacuum space
Tangled in work and ***** lace
He never looks up from his plate
So consumed in cold hate

A shadow of a man- what a pity
Washed down the gutter in the city
The only one who will miss
Is the daughter he forgot to kiss
A Mareship Aug 2014
zoe
Zoe hangs back,

My home-time mayhem
with half a head of hair,
pink neon flashing up her cherry studded arms.

My cufflinks snag and shake,
trying to make her see,
trying to make her see something.
T R Jan 2015
Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Peel off those thin black dress socks

Walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
That full head of thick corporate hair

Now walk barefoot and bald in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut ties
Burn your bridges

Barefoot bald and humiliated
You can start again
Dre G Nov 2012
i want my life to open
i want my life to shut like a tired
ocean wave
i want to sleep and eat and
die, i want to die
and be reborn and
never have to look at any of this.

i want to drop this burden

i want to cry and cry and
i want someone
anyone
to understand this.
i want to feel a fire
i want to run outside and escape
escape     escape     escape
the word sounds like it wears
expensive cufflinks from a
boutique in downtown boston.

i want to ***** all over boston

i want to ***** all over myself
and then lick it back up,
lap it in, feel the chunks slide
softly down my pharynx.
Jamie Sue Austin Oct 2011
Your politeness
is a starched collar.
I itch
and fiddle with my cufflinks.
T R Sep 2015
Here you are, all dressed up
To take me out to dinner, our very first date
Even more handsome than in your corporate office
So dapper, dignified, distinguished,
so impeccably dressed and groomed

In your Armani pinstriped business suit
Silk tie, starched white shirt, cufflinks
Polished black leather Italian shoes
Your BMW waits outside

Well, I have news for you....
I changed my mind
Yes - changed my mind
We will stay home tonight
You will cook dinner for me right here

You are stunned
"ME?
I have a reservation at the finest restaurant
I know everyone there
And I don't know how to cook!
I know you're joking..
You must be."

No. No joke.
Give me those keys to your BMW.
Take off your Rolex wristwatch
No need to look at the time.
Time to get cooking.

No, don't complain

And one more thing.....

Take off those expensive shoes and socks
I want to see the cuffs of your
navy blue pinstripes
brushing the cuffs of your
naked toes....

Your smooth white soles
will feel the floor
While you peel the potatoes.....

I want you barefoot in my kitchen
T R Oct 2015
Stripping You of Your Privilege
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your Iphone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long male finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your gold wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building, shining in the sun.
Empty and crying for their former owner
Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your naked size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?
You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming
Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your naked privileged feet

We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug, expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
Male eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will **** your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your prestigious upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence
We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose
Show off your *** and your arms

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your male ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
******* symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered feet
Andrew Springer Feb 2013
Greet death
with your hands in your pockets,
slouched back, cool,
collected, and confident.
Wear a hint of a grin
and a dash of cologne.
Say What took you so long?
Say You're behind the times, man.
Say Dead is the new black.
Coffin is the new condo.
Pallor is the new tan.
La vida muerta.

Greet death
with a fistful of black-eyed susans,
butterflies in your stomach,
and two tickets to tomorrow's sunrise.
Wear your father's cufflinks
and your mother's wedding ring.
Say I brought these for you, babe.
Say Kiss me, kiss me.
Say But wait until the sun comes up.
Just until daybreak.
I want to show you something.
Hasta la muerte, te amo.

Greet death
with a knife at your own neck,
chin up, throat bared,
cardiac in overdrive.
Wear nothing.
Wear nothing.
Say Bring it on *******!
Say Only on my terms.
Say nothing
and open your throat.
and bleed to completion.
El final, el final, el final.

This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Oct 29, 2009
T R Mar 2015
Mr. Wall Street,
Yes, YOU
You in the Perfect Suit

Here are your instructions:

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Don't ague with me!

Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them
and give them a very different life

Now walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
Yes - all of your hair

That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again
Instructions for a Wall Street Executive
Sleepy Sigh Sep 2010
He travels down pathways of velvet,
Treading mahogany and maroon
And ruby, all the varying shades
Of a wine glass caress his slick
Shoes. His face is freed from
Marble prisons, loosed onto
Stretched canvases in myriad
Bursts and strokes of sapphire,
Emerald, amethyst, opal,
Quartz, ivory, jade; his face,
Embroidered on jackets, on
Coatsleeves, is a symbol of
Charm and grace - a symbol of
Power. When he speaks, the words
Clink and sparkle together
Like gold and silver, like diamonds
And roses. The elements so mix
In him, etcetera. With a pace meted
In waltz-steps, he crosses galleries,
Admires his pet works, his pet workers.
He is a sought man, a buyer of
Flatteries. He drinks fine scotch.
This man, so vivid and clear
In place and time - so placed
In the center of beautiful scenes -
He drowses by my fire in his fine
Suit; he lids his eyes next to my cheek.

Perhaps I am slowing, or aging,
Or growing tedious. Stop me if I
Bore you; I hate long-winded bores,
Unstoppable ranters, and one-sided
Opinion staters. But returning to my
Friend, the gentleman who lounges
On my couch, who tickles my
Ear with soft cologne whispers,
Who catches my eye with poised
Puffs of flagging breath. He is so
Soft and kept in life. Death will find
A pitiful creature when it comes for
This delicate boy. He is my special
Treat, my prized butterfly in the
Most elaborate case. Watch him
So feebly flap his wings - don't worry
I've pinned him well. Look at how
His pale eyelids flutter (I could
Watch forever!) like the little
Bush-finches that come to bathe
In ditchwater and fly again to
Woven homes. But he will not fly!
Never will he slide out of my
Loving sight as he was wont to,
Never will he have to drink fine
Scotch alone. I will sip with him, I
Will warm his feet when he cannot
Lift his (now) leaden legs to the fire.

Don't touch him! Did your mother never
Teach you to look with your eyes?
He is mine! I will show him to you,
You will admire. I know you can, you
Were admiring him when I came
Upon you. (I should have known you
Would reach to leave your prints
And smudges on him, you bad-
Mannered girl.) Don't make that face,
You were trying to pin him, I
Just crunched my harpoon in first.
Now look at him, all lost and
Stopped. All but his eyes. Tell me,
Isn't he beautiful? A masterpiece.
My centerpiece, that's what he'll
Be. And you, you were the roots
And the thorns of an elegant flower:
The regrettably worthless stray
Leaves to be pruned away. I'm sorry
My poor dear, but you were born
To be wasted. Don't be sad, you
Had your day, you hung on his sleeve
For your little night. But he has
Such a habit of losing things he
Keeps there: cufflinks, his heart,

Girls who are not me. I'm sorry
My darling. It is a shame I must
Send you home, I do so love it
When people share my tastes.
Now drink this scotch my poor
Thing. Drink up. There now, do
You feel warmer? Are you tired?
Let me pull that cover up, why
Don't you have a good (long) rest?
Go to sleep, there's a good girl.
I'll put you to bed.
Share, don't steal, blah blah blah

I see many edits and revisions in this poem's future.
angelwarm Dec 2014
there has been enough capped blue pens, half-chewed/.then
parisian grey mists--open windows, & markets, have you come
along in the cufflinks to take my hands? no, it's nothing

some days,i;d like to be kissed lonely, to sit at the preening
jut of your hips and **** songbird sketches into your neck,
thick swells. as rain comes within, just a teaspoon of salt to the water
and i hope it boils over. because i want to be burned, now

i want to be loved,; like silver lipped queens dipping ring
fingers into cyanide;. like the tumbling of lucifer from heaven
where he was the first shooting star--remarkable, god's favorite

there have been so many coffee rings on paper place mats,
and chances to go dancing when instead i cut to see myself bleed--

i dont want to be the lonely wing that tears against the wind,
the pale, wailing woman waiting on the side of the highway
to be taken home and put to bed. just grant me the white lighter,
or else let me step into the warm marshes with the wheatgrass.

let me turn to hay in the wintertime; ill hold you when you come
inside to sleep here. we just keep corking the bottles and putting
them in the fridge;when's the last time you wove flowers inyour
hair?, were you just a boy then who could afford to make those

mistakes? i swear i'd like to know those ways the welts twisted
your gut hotly--because they did for mine too, only in the ways i'd
never been touched at all. they write books on the women who
refuse to be loved. we stand against walls with our champagne

throats curved back, waiting/for a man to get his hands on it
but it won;'t do, it won't do. if you come closer, see, i'll make you
laugh to that pretty throat-bobbing way, while you're looking at
the mouth that leans forward to **** a quiet songbird;then tear

up the flesh of your neck. i want to be blood-soaked like that, a
white boat, a marsh field with the blue herons, their lonely wings.
where is the legend of lilith on the bookshelves of the innocent?,

don't tell me you can't find her. she;s here--in my mouth, look inside
i bite down on the pen cap. the water moans and spills over. they want
to be loved where love is ****** & the crime scene is the first

sunday of forever: this death more beautiful than winter; my surrender
the smallest collapse of the star--in your arms,yes,that's an alright
place--the black hole love a blank space, a long sunday. now that's

what i want, with you: fold the blanket, let's take a drive, let's go
to the field where god kissed lucifer to the ground. i want to be loved
like you know how the story goes: we become who we always were,
and then it kills us both.
T R Jul 2014
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
male face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your Iphone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long male finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your large male wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building.
Empty and crying for their former owner
Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your naked size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?
You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming
Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your naked privileged feet

We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug, expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty male attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
Male eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will **** your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your powerful upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence
We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your male ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
******* symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered male feet
Angry Feminist takes over a man's life
Martin Narrod Sep 2017
Stolen warmth gone for now,  followed by melancholic uneventful sounds. When I walk, I walk away from seeing. Everything I thought I might've been. This skin trying to fly away from me, like a misplaced shadow searching for a body to shrug off its grief. Bending, arcing, aching thumbs that have too much memory to allow them any fun. The old time might have agreed, with the girl lost for at least three weeks. Sugar and a can of milk condensed, heated up over campfire coals in the woods near Libereć.

Twice I'm too scared to talk. After a boxing match with a raging bull. Staleness lingers over these sweating hips, where half a moon quaffs down Verdi's Requiems. I told you I'm hiding in the jungle now. Through these cufflinks I speak through a startled jowl. First that dying tone, the startling sound of a fading D Minor song. The mines of the forest grieve, until the hours born sell the rights to sleep. Taken and away from grief, where wiggling children's fingers are seen. Only to find the child was not a realty.
Let your hands make amends to me, whether you're here for the pistachio ice cream or vanilla almond dream. Princess pleas for a pauper's being.

Looks like the child bit off half it's tongue, to ignore all inquiries into where its gone. Minute games and clauses of flesh, I tie her up using her own belt.  Chasing The Rockies for a festive blue, then I gorge myself while she enrolled me too. Quiet bandits filled with starlight.
Carmelo Antone Jun 2012
Sticking to what I know best,
I’m just a product of my generation,
****** up and full of ideals,
Thoughts that my parents think they can quell,

But they just help me to rise to my knees, speak, and breathe,
Sorry mom and dad but it is soon to be my world,
And I have time to recreate,

Already biting the bullet since I was an infant,
The hardest part seems to be, keeping me contained,
Since I was raised in such a connected age,

You know I believe gays can get married as long as I perceive,
We already did our adolescent time; let’s search for something divine,

Like tolerance of another,
Not simply because of their skin color,
But because they are a brother,

I think it’s alright not to look to the skies,
For answers Earth can derive,
Like how I evolved from an ape after others went extinct,

Realizing what is best,
Our children are the remedy to society’s unrest,
When you let them develop a tolerant cortex,

We already bit the bullet as we grew,
We already know what must become the norm,

To breed tolerance is to breed the cure,
How can we not embrace those that know better?
How can we not receive those that can remedy this place we call home?

May the racism rise from your veins,
May you realize that two guys loving one and another,
Is as lovely as the way I feel towards my girlfriend,

May you see that children with two mommies or daddies,
Are maybe as happy as I was with the heterosexuals that raised me,

Sticking to what I know best,
I think its right to tolerate,
The processes of humanity,

How precious is it when you can breed?
A tolerant being,
How wonderful when we better a place founded by thieves, slaveholders and maniacs with cufflinks.
can also be found on: http://mantone.net/
T R Sep 2015
Stripping You of Your Privilege
YOU!

Tall and lean and impossibly handsome
and Corporate

In your magnificent pinstriped business suit
and perfectly tied silk tie
and your hundred dollar haircut
your privileged male feet hidden
inside impeccably polished black
English dress shoes

Staring at me through your
designer sunglasses

Haughty, confident, insolent
Stepping out of your Porsche
before you enter your office building

So smooth, clean, assured and perfect
Maybe you are 35 years old, maybe 40
the world is yours


Transformation
I have news for you
The tables are turned

YOU have been the one in power.
The one in control.
So proud, so arrogant, so confident

Starting at me, a total stranger
Just part of your usual day
I am just an object to you
I am an OBJECT to you!

Your beautiful smooth shaven
face turns...
but wait...

Wait! No more

NO MORE!

The world has turned upside
down

Now YOU are the OBJECT

I have the POWER to make things happen

NOW LISTEN TO ME

You have a new future

LISTEN. OBEY
Quit your important executive job
Leave your successful corporate career

That's right – now
QUIT!
Call from your Iphone
Don't enter the
building
Tell them you’re quitting

You are stunned and repelled and horrified
You resist and argue
You refuse and try to leave
Your pride and anger rise
But there is no escaping your destiny

Your power is gone
You are helpless to resist

Forget your MBA
Forget you ever went to a university
Slide the business school ring off your
long male finger

Give me the keys to that Porsche
And take your Rolex,
your gold wristwatch,
off your
wrist
You won't be needing a watch
I will tell you the time
We will sell your watch

Get those fancy, expensive,
polished handmade shoes off
Your pampered, privileged male feet
Yes, your black dress socks too

YOU, barefoot on the sidewalk!

Leave the shoes right there on the
sidewalk, in front of your former
office building, shining in the sun.
Empty and crying for their former owner
Put your expensive socks inside the shoes
and drop the briefcase too

Now get back into the Porsche
you used to own
Yes, in your bare feet
Your naked size tens
No - NOT the driver's seat
Get in the passenger side
I am driving

I'm taking you to your own home
as my Trophy

How many times
have you
had a woman in your passenger seat?
You behind the wheel,
smiling your proud smile
your perfect white teeth gleaming
Straightening your necktie as
your bragged about your corporate successes
You and your car the proud conquerors
Your handmade black leather shoes pressing the pedal
of male power and privilege

Now you - just a passenger!
along for the ride in your own car
the rich carpet of your Porsche
under the smooth soles of your naked privileged feet

We will marry
and you will clean and cook and look very beautiful

Now your LIFE LESSONS:
Dumb down your smug, expensively high-class male executive
SPEECH.
More slang. Much less education in your voice
Don’t talk – just listen to ME

And you have to wipe off
That arrogant male grin
like you own the world.

Destroy that haughty attitude
of conquest - so much a part of you until today

Replace it with humble respect
And attitude of submission and obedience

Give me those sunglasses
You can't wear them anymore
Look at me
with submissive adoration in your clear, blue
Male eyes

No need to make decisions now
I will take care of that

I will **** your ambition
Your self-assertion
Your independent thinking

We'll take apart your self-confidence
and throw the pieces in the trash
All of your initiative and desire to succeed
will be replaced
by the desire to make me happy

I will change your prestigious upper class name
You will take MY last name now
Your identity will disappear
What is your first name? William?
You are Billy boy from now

Your male executive image and power clothes
No longer have
Any place
In your new existence
We'll pick up some nice tight cheap jeans and
some nice tight undershirts for your
new look - the one I choose
Show off your *** and your arms

I want you tougher, grizzled
Blue collarized
Working class male
You’re too clean, too smooth, too perfect
We’ll fix that...

And your clean-cut corporate haircut is
now forbidden
I hate it. Too perfect

Grow out your golden brown hair into
A scraggly ponytail
a beard too...
Put some dirt under those clean fingernails
Calluses on those smooth clean palms
An earring in your male ear

And no more SUITS!
I hate suits
symbols of white male power and authority
and no more ties
******* symbols of oppression
your neck and long male
throat will be open and exposed
for the world to see

No, that pinstriped suit you're wearing
that you had made for yourself in London
and the silk tie
and the starched white shirt
will all be sold to a second hand clothing shop

The monograms taken off your
cufflinks before they are sold
Your golf clubs – sold
Your tennis rackets and
sports equipment - sold

Your credit cards in my name
Your condo is now ours
Your Porsche is now mine
You will drive my beat-up old Ford

All of your fancy clothes will be sold off
That will be tomorrow



You're gonne be barefoot in my kitchen
You won't be needing shoes anymore
on your privileged, pampered male feet
rather bitter but intended as humor too
T R Mar 2015
Hello, Mr Wall Street
Mr. Wall Street,
Yes, YOU
You in the Perfect Suit

Here are your instructions:

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Don't ague with me!

Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them
and give them a very different life

Now walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
Yes - all of your hair

That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again
T R Feb 2015
Mr. Wall Street,
Yes, YOU

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them

Walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again
T R Jun 2015
Mr Wall Street
Yes, YOU
You in the Perfect Suit

Here are your instructions:

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Don't ague with me!

You submit and obey
Not knowing why
You are my slave

Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them
and give them a very different life

Now walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
Yes - all of your hair

That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again
shireliiy Nov 2015
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T R Jan 2016
Mr Wall Street
Yes, YOU
You in the Perfect Suit

Here are your instructions:

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Don't ague with me!

You submit and obey
Not knowing why
You are my slave

Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet
For the first time

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them
and give them a very different life

Now walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
Yes - all of your hair

That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut all ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again
When I wake up in the morning,
I have rocks in my eyes that'll put your rings to shame.
I'm not the daintiest of women
I square my shoulders up and try to brace myself for the fall whenever I wear four inch heels or higher
I like t-shirts and sweatshirts with sassy and cool logos
Comic strip socks and cufflinks catch my attention before any dress would
I'm not perfect.
My hair is not always combed and I've never heard of another woman who has intense OCD but is at the same time extremely unorganized.
I'm a walking contradiction, an enigma to say the least.
I can eat brownies but react to cake.
My breath doesn's smell like apple pie in the morning and my pajamas consist of boxers and shirts three times my size.
I have a slight lisp when I speak and a face that refuses to soften even when I'm happy.
No I'm not mad, I'm good..
Thats just how my face is.
I don't believe in promises made by people because i've witnessed more broken ones than those fulfilled.
I'd rather let my yes be my yes and my no, a solid no.
I have a soul so old I could've kept your greatgrandma company and yet a spirit so young you'd think I was five again.
I've yet to find the balance.
I don't catch people's eyes the first or second time but I heard third times the charm.
I'm simply Geraldine.
I snort when I laugh and **** in my sleep
And at times I burp out the alphabet.
I'm just me.
Some days I'm sweet and on other days insane.
I break my own heart at times before anyone else gets to it
But one thing's for sure is that I am fearfully and wonderfully made
And my flaws are a thing of beauty to the heart meant to love me...
for me
William Jan 2014
Upon an island sits my soul.
Floating among the quivering
branches hidden with in the lull
I crouch, still and shivering.

Upon the waves turns my soul.
With cold waters dragging me deep
to a world through a rabbits hole
I flail, thrashing about and weep.

Upon those cufflinks wears my soul.
The jacket turned outward to face
the cold harsh winds taking their toll
I arch, pained and begin to brace.

Within the damp ground rest my soul.
With shelter against the raging
wind theres chance to warm by the coal
I lay, stretched no longer caging.

— The End —