Hell sometimes can be a comforting thought
When you consider the promise
of some ire of comeuppance
some reasoned placement
of interminable exile
for the ******* who deserve to end up there.
When all is considered,mortal pain working as the ruse
for an endurance of condemnation
(Mothers still wailing in their sleep for closure two generations on)
Mortal oppressors deserve to be confronted by a special kind of fear
It makes sense
The punishment is apt
Guilt has to work both ways.

But that thought is still not a resolution for me
Particularly as the opposite does'nt attract
Given the fact that I've spent the majority of my life
Frightened of Christ.

It has its origins in my own childhood
when I remember back
To when I hurried weary past
the old imposing church
on my way into town
When I was a four-year old believing
If I was'nt quick
The whole-heaving Bulk of it
would tumble flatly
upon my fragile frame
The old road home
eventually winding its way
to my limbo of soothing distractions
that childhood’s orchestra of daydreams
so fleetingly informs.

Senior Infants Religion class did'nt help either
getting to grip with the crucifix and the like
my parents having sheltered me from the harsh realities of martyrdom
and the cold damp mass congregation on empty Sunday mornings
and the scowl of that year's teacher
who had complained that I wrote too much like a spider's web
Giving us throatfuls of original sin and the rhetoric of  Easter Monday
and my childhood innocence
exposed in the opinion spoken aloud
to a classroom of trained apatheticals
that not only did I not believe that Jesus Christ was the son of god
but that he never existed either
perhaps history disproves my claim on the latter
but the former is still full of endless possibility.
(And all this before I read anything about what really went on during the Twentieth Century-Dear accomplice,I can already hear your sweetened cackle.)

Yet still faced with that emblem of womanhood’s inheritance,I accepted my first compromise of all too humane sympathies.
Bleeding Mary Immaculate,she who suffers,she who in her suffering
silently invokes that long,unquestionable certainty of life,that jump-lead rattle of conscience
and contemplation,she whose warm moments in stony acceptance of fate’s misfortunes eventually led me down that scented path where all my troubles truly began.

Christ himself continued to present
(however loud the familial chorus
attempted to reprimand my nurtured,
after-school-scepticism)those same
tingles of spinal sensitivity,that same
epidemic-like aversion,years after I had
left that winter playground where children
splashed puddle water at each other
to make reputations,and shouted mispronounced obscenities
as a means to show they had no time whoever wanted to act adorable that day.
(The first chance they were given they realised the bluff-ladder of office mentality.)

I could never really face staring
into the eyes of the owner
of that sacred heart
for more than five seconds
He accused me of far too much
without having any notion
of who exactly I was
As I got older teachers
tried to convince me
that he really was
full of love and understanding
but those portrait-painted deepest-blue eyes
could lead to a war criminal's breakdown.

And I was’nt willing to take
the sack and ashes
for any man.

Milked and Pasteurized in infancy
I come of age and choke on the breast I've suckled and wrung.
Explore an open door of opportunity to meet the man who settled the seed.
Disappointed to find only horses, cracks, and neverland keys.
Recognize a social scheme of getting in, getting off, and moving on.
No longer ignorant in bliss,
Apparent to me that daddy left and all that's there is mother mirage.

She's climbing a ladder to complicated bliss,
Pockets full of posies, pills, and thrills.
Mind full of confliction,
self-deprecating inhibition-
hypocritical actions to condone.

Bake a cake.
Make a mermaid sandwich to oblivion
Talk metaphors to your minion.
Fake a place.
Call it home.

Be the hammer in my stone, help me tumble n' bow to your throne.
Sold me sideways lies and theory
Hypothetically, it seems to me that $commission$ was gained
from blackened eyes and skinned up knees
Come to find the wrinkled hand that led me was none but my own.

Guess your conscious forgot it's name
Guess your soul forgot my name.
Careful Grace that saved a wretch like no one.
She's carefully steppin' around your toes,
She's gracefully getting tired of recreating this unreality.

You're a ******' rabbit in a hole.
Lit a match and you've lost all self-control
What breaks you makes you.
What takes you, stakes you out to come and **** you, fake you
Knock on hidden hills door to get more
Swallow the roof that disproves your critics
Keeps you loose and ******* the alphabet dry.
Swallow Cold Alphabet Soup.  I try.

Fumbling fingers yearning for connection,
Reach out through negative space,
Crash headlong into rejection.
Curl back in defeat,
Clenched fist to deflect,
Fiery agony of regret.

An empty, disparaging inflection
Cut from a hot pink tongue, flapping
Dispassionately disproves theory of interconnection,
Maybe myth, fable, love story --
Or maybe lack of detection,
From calloused palms,
Roughened with each ingestion
Of honey suckle poison.

Was this the original intention?
Or did the son choose to elect
Another hidden path, indirect.
This haze manifests crystalized predictions,
Of hands meeting thighs, meeting hips,
Pushing forward climactic introspection,
Or just another muddled reflection,
Of my endless projections,
Always  failing tests of retention,
Mind permanently trapped in suspension,
Of spiraling tension.

She abstracts me from thinking in correspondence.

The symbiosis between us is an ilk drawn by oblivion and distaste.
My intellectual property in fact has been decocted by the thud of her voice, uninfluenced of her literal aphorism.
Her whimsicality disproves my goal of escape disproportionately, leading to an incontestable emotion.

My useless trickery disintegrates and I succumb un-admittedly.

She is the symphony to any verbal effect, the rhyme to an attempted haiku.
She is the immaterial love that brings me disruption and unprepared musings.
…

I sit and comfort myself with lies
It's all going to be fine
It's all over now
But then the monster arises from her slumber and disproves my hope for things to be just 'okay'
She screams at me.
Stupid *****! Lazy! Fat!
As I let the words soak into my skin, I tell myself more and more lies.
It's all over now, darling.
It's going to be just fine.

Come and take me,
My misery's attacking me,
You don't have to save it,
Just destroy it so it's gone.
I look at myself and think,
I should just purposely ***** up more.
If it's easy for life to **** me up,
Then surely I get to go further.

Nothing's okay,
There's just always a facade,
To satisfy the rules,
Because the world will keep turning either way.
Of course I'm not going to sit and complain,
Vocally every second of the day.
When I'm socially active around others,
What they see is normal,
For me at least,
Even if in the background I hear screaming,
Of my thoughts never sorting themselves out,
So instead I welcome more:
Everything that eventually "left me",
Why don't you come back for some more?
If destruction's where life is taking me,
Then why shouldn't I join in,
Just another bad habit,
Won't bring the end that closer,
If anything it will make myself see,
How much I know this is getting,
Too tough for me to be.

I know how I'm acting,
Even if you do not,
I know I contradict myself,
I can't just tell you the truth,
I need to do what it is I want to prove,
Although that disproves what I assure you,
By about a thousand degrees,
From before I hear my own last screams,
As I once again ignore my very own beliefs.

Never going back,
They're so sure that's the truth,
Most of the time I have been too,
I know how to convince,
After I finally gained trust back.
The issues are almost irrelevant to me,
Because I've taken to just concentrating,
On exactly what I'm doing now,
Because I gave up the effort of relying on the aftermath.
I know the next time,
That this comes to light,
It will probably just be even worse,
Maybe it's half why I need my secrets,
To pretend they don't happen,
That they don't matter,
Because I'm back to believing that's true.

Don't save it,
Just take it.
I'm finished with trying to preserve it,
I've found there's no use,
While looking for something else without a clue,
Because everything's just impossible,
And I don't want to have to,
Get to where I cannot reach,
Maybe other people do see things in me,
Although I'm often self-positive,
In general terms,
I still don't see the point in being,
When I show up places,
It's not like I have a choice,
I've just always mostly been obedient,
If you dismiss the scratches I have made,
They won't forget the indentations,
Because they felt it too,
They felt me drop, crack, break and watched me,
Pick myself back up again,
So going back downstairs is silent,
Avoiding the inevitable from happening a second time:
Prolonging my pain,
Deafening this angry silence from them,
To lengthen out the disappointment,
They must one day receive.

I'll tell you what I thought about when I was gone and so alone,
Secrets with no one to tell--
Every action in this world has a consequence,
And I don't talk like an open book.

Don't tell anybody about the things we have planned
Or how you turned me around:
They just want to push us down,
But I will muster every ounce of confidence
To promise not to promise anymore.
I will take the chain from off the door:
It's not too late to apologize.
I went as far as I could,
I'm not afraid to fall, I might just learn to fly.
We learned so much about ourselves,
But did you know how much you moved me?

My world is not everything I hoped it would be.
It's a little bit scary;
I am lost for words.
I feel alone in the unknown,
All I want is to be in the light.
Please get me out of here,
Wash away all my tears,
Let me know that I'm not alone;
I am scared:
They are trying to figure out what I'm all about,
But it's not easy to be me--
I try my best.
You know I'd fall apart without you.

I want to see you be brave.
If you're still waiting for the breakdown,
I just hide it away--
Throw it away.
I feel like a problem girl,
And you are more than I deserve.

You want to know more about me?
It seems like there's always someone who disproves,
So I built a concrete wall.
Please be there through it all--
Everybody has a dark side.
Will you love me?
Will you love mine?
My hair looks dull,
My shoes are wrong,
They laugh at me,
I don't belong.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got until it's gone?
I'm tired of hurting,
But I'm slowly learning that
Tomorrow may be one day too late.

Even the best fall down sometimes,
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme,
But when the time comes,
Don't run,
Set me free.
Here I stand,
Just the way I'm suppose to be,
But I'm going to make that change.

I will dance if you ask me to dance,
But right now I'm sitting here praying for reason.
You don't know a thing about me,
But I threw a wish in the well:
Be my escape--
I need someone who stands beside me,
Not in front of or behind me.
Please listen closely to everything I say,
Otherwise you will never know me.

only one thing is certain to come to fruition
Which is claiming that you have it disproves your intuition

what good is the composition
if the supposition and predisposition
that starts the whole is full of holes.

What good if it disproves your motive by sly
text  when you begin and wry next when all you say is
opposition to your composition.

when you begin, you might next time
bring the white-out and eraser more into your being
and your meaning, may be exposed.

By: Cedric McClester

Keven McCarthy says he’s had it
Cos he can’t stand the truth
And Senator Liz Cheney
Is the living proof
She refuses to promote the big lie
Or should I say the spoof
That the last presidential election was stolen
Which the evidence disproves

Republicans have lost their soul
They’re marching in lock step
They’re not the Republicans of old
What we see is what we get
They’re tied to a failed president
Who lies with no regret
It’s a cult of personality
And they’re all in his debt

Repulican have sold their souls
To the devil incarnate
And they deserve the shrinking ranks
That they no doubt will get
They have bet their entire house
Which is about to be upset
But they pay this no nevermind
Which will be to their regret

They no longer believe in God
They swore fealty to the devil
I know what I’m saying is hard
But it’s on the level
They will soon be buried
Can someone get  a shovel
It’s high time that we
Unite to bust their bubble









Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2021.  All rights reserved.




‘

I keep resisting the idea
that I'm cornflakes
Oh I know
all the thinking
that disproves this
ludicrous notion
but crunchy in milk
is sooo sultry
and satisfying

I finally get it now,
I’m no longer afraid.
As I have finally removed my piece from the board
Refusing to continue in our game.

You thought you could manipulate me
To maintain my loyalty through fear
But what you don’t seem to realize is
I’m no longer afraid of you, my dear.

In the past I’ve had my moments,
Quite a few of them in fact
When I forced myself to walk on eggshells
To keep the illusion of peace intact.

Then one day I finally came to realize
That this ride would never end
And even if I refused to see the demise
There’s only so far one can bend.

So I decided that I’d reached my limit,
That it was time to walk away,
But instead of maintaining some dignity
You continually make cheap shots at me
Somehow thinking this disproves that you’re weak
Yet apparently the opposite is truth.

In walking away I am stronger,
Finally recognizing my worth
In completely accepting myself for me
Without having to combat your hurtful words.

But they no longer hold any power over me
I bet that one hurts like a *****.
Until you find your own peace one day
Know that I’m no longer yours to berate
So now you must find somewhere else to play
Feel free to leave any time.

All in all our time is over
The moment for farewell has arrived
Feel free at any moment to locate the door
And don’t bother waving good-bye

Grace
11/11/2014