The missus bought a Paperback
  ...at Val Village, Saturday,
  I had a look inside her bag;
  ....T'was "Fifty Shades of Grey".

  Well I just left her to it,
  And at ten I went to bed.
  An hour later she appeared;
  The sight filled me with dread…..

  In her left she held a rope;
  And in her right a whip!
  She threw them down upon the floor,
  And then began to strip.

  Well fifty years or so ago;
  I might have had a peek;
  But Mabel hasn't weathered well;
  She's eighty four next week!!

  Watching Mabel bump and grind;
  Could not have been much grimmer.
  And things then went from bad to worse;
  She toppled off her Zimmer!

  She struggled back upon her feet;
  A couple minutes later;
  She put her teeth back in and said
  .....I am the dominater !!

  Now if you knew our Mabel,
  You'd see just why I spluttered,
  I'd spent two months in traction
  For the last complaint I'd uttered.

  She stood there **** and naked
  Bent forward just a bit
  I went to hold her, sensual like
  and stood on her left ***!

  Mabel screamed, her teeth shot out;
  My god what had I done!?
  She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
  "Step on the other one"!!

  Well readers, I can't tell no more;
  About what occurred that day.
  Suffice to say my jet black hair,
  Turned fifty shades of Grey.

Why do they laugh at me? Guffaw until hoarse
as I walk through the fog?

Little copper feet strut across woodwork,
sherbet white feathers extend, retract.

A mob stands on soggy grass, wheezing
like old men on twenty a day.

Some yawn, open orange castanet beaks,
a boring morning for those who remain.

Clouds turn a grimmer grey shade
over me and these gulls.

Two of them spring up, higher than every tree,
wings glide through air as satin through fingers.

Tiny eyes will continue to scour this park
for another stranger to deride.

The time just before
Night

The setting sun

The wavering wind

The families all
Bundling up
To escape the madmen
Of the streets
And the alley-ways

Whenever there was
Peace
They were there

Whenever there was
War
They were there too

Crimson clad captains
Of the criminally insane
Free as the forest and
All of its mysterious ways

The nights
Are worse

The sun has gone
The sounds have changed
The people grimmer
Greedier and
Meaner...

My kind of
People

The way we walk
Like we own the world
And everything in it

Clinking glasses and
Smoke filled barrooms

Wearing our loneliness
Like a badge of honor

Throwing our weight around
Like we've been eating and
Drinking all day

To press matters further
We burn the postal service
And contemplate the brink
Of natural disasters, all over
Salted peanuts and stale
Glasses of tap water, the television
On full blast to drown out the
Half-drunken chatter of teens with
Fake-id's and half a pair of *****

The way I keep it together
Is to inhale and exhale, or breathe

Sometimes that doesn't work

So I think of Freud and how
Much I haven't read of him but
How right I think he is about
Anxiety and how it runs the show

Afraid of our failures
Before even an attempt
Is made

And the schoolchildren are
Let out early because of rain
And all the friends that were there
Are now gone or have changed

Their eyes
Look different

Their smells
Not the same

Their attitudes more
Reserved and adult
And mature and collected

Discussing the
Future of the American Dream
And how we - the freedom negotiating youth -
Hold on to our morals until
A paycheck big enough comes
Our way

How expensive is happiness?
How much money does it take
To **** the virus of loneliness and sloth?
How much does unrequited love
Truly cost?

"In answers, "wept the preacher, "We will
Find the truth of the lord, but, to seek truth
We must first ask the questions the Lord
Wishes us to ask. Think and ye' shall be
Given questions to find His truth."

Winged beast of mythical lore
Your credit here is no longer good
Please, tip the bouncer
On the way out

And you know that it is true
The way the wind blows through
The opened window, a view
Looking down and out toward the street

Fear has her fingers
Wrapped around your throat
The de-anxietized man is
Just out of reach as

The clouds burn to black
And the rain begins to fall
And the last rays of the sun
Can just be seen with the
Flooding of the sky

Blank cards to be dealt
Everyone is all in
The money is on the table
Transfer's on the cable

We are quite alone now
Aren't we?

You and I

When the ***** naked ******
Make their rounds
Searching for coin or purse
Or wallet

We will be watching
We will be seeing
The worst that man
Has to offer

When was it
When life turned
So sour?

So processed?

What was the turning point?

When the dust finally settled
And all that was left
Were the debts and
The massacres and the
Racism and the end
Of any kind of genuine
Human kindness and
The death of music, poetry,
And literature?

When did the last page
Turn to only show there
Were no more books left
Because we burned them all?

So much has come to pass
So much that many thought
Would be eternal and last

Everything
Is re-born

Everything turns
To dust to feed the
Ground for the new

We are the changing
Wind within the
Crevices of the highest mountains

The leaking water
Chilled from the night
Echoing within the fountain

The ink that dries
Has dried before
And will continue to do so

In truth we will see
Answers we wish
Not to believe

Steps will be taken
Backward, forward,
Left and right and
Backward again

To wait
For the forward

To strive
For the forward

To believe
In moving forward

Is our key

*****, i cannot change it
if i could, i would escape this
you and me are outrageous.

i don't have it in me to fight
i feel so hated, i cannot take it
i hope i'll be alright.




lookin' back to the summer lovin' and selfishly countin' bliss,
i've been through a grimmer something, but never more than this,

how it all comes back to nothing, how do you ever escape from it ?
i see in the mirror, i see a grin and her hurting and it makes me sick

if you don't know what pain is, how do you paint it ?
how do you figure out a way to say you know what faded

how do you tell them that the pain inside you is dangerous
to keep them their distance or they'll be burnt pages
                                
tell them to stop sayin' it!




*****, i cannot change it
if i could, i would escape this
you and me are outrageous
so many different faces

been through so many stages
so true about them phases
the way they say it
it's all true ain't it ?

love is it ?

the way life out paces
and everybody just races
it never fails to amaze me
how much everyone has waited
to feel alive

lord, help me through the night,
if i could, i would escape this
i don't have it in me to fight

i feel so hated, i cannot take it
i hope i'll be alright.

I was a firefly child
A glowworm in the night
Burning strange colors
To signify
How I knew I would die

Chased down
Ripped to shreds
For children’s amusement
The abuses
Came

My pretty little fluttering light
Inflamed in pain
For your entertainment
For her relief
That release she needed
When her knuckles
Kneaded flesh

Even though
She never punched me
The scars you see
Were etched deeply
And the blinking
Got slower and dimmer


She pulled my hair
Because she cared
She slapped my face
Because she cared
She yelled and screamed
Because she cared
I lost my glow
Because she cared
She showed her love
With so much rage

And the wishes
Got colder and grimmer
Till finally I wanted to rip
My little light bulb but
Out of my tired and red marked back

365 days since I thought
The afterlife might be a more welcome stage
For the stale antics of my bipolar fairytales,
How Brother's Grimm only seemed to fall grimmer,
And I was oh so tired
But too wired to sleep.
365 days since the end neared
As I recklessly abandoned hope that suffering might fluctuate
And stole the heartbeat from my own chest with bottles of pills,
Leaving only a trail of words amidst chemistry and calculus to
Explain what could never be explained.
It's been 365 days since and I died
And 365 days since they breathed life back into my body.
It's been 365 days since I forgot why I had ever intended to live in the first place,
And I have spent all 365 days picking up the pieces.
Those first weeks were brutal.
10 days in a coma so deep they suspected I might never awaken,
And the first hours without the tube,
Struggling for air in a world full of oxygen,
Whole body exhausted from fighting so hard for what should come so naturally,
Until they put the tube back in,
And I wished feverishly they had let me slip away under my haze
Into the blackness I had planned for myself.
No better metaphor had ever existed for the mental state I had occupied,
Surrounded by people and resources who could not or would not help me,
An outside world that demanded I apply more willpower or skill to beat an illness I did not know I was suffering,
Sick mind and tortured soul unable to see in a deeply fogged mirror.
I can honestly say 365 days later I am grateful they didn't let me die,
But that gratitude is bitter and sharp to the tongue.
It aches with deep shame and regret,
Of never being able to undo that night but being unwilling
To part with the lessons I've learned.
I am glad I did not die.
I hurt, though, because they could not let me go.
And even now, with wonderful girlfriend and newfound explanations,
With EMT class and badass haircut,
Solid housemates and a clearer mind,
Even with so much good in my life,
When I find myself thinking of the pain of teaching myself to merely stand on my own two feet
Or the loss of my voice and change in my body,
I sometimes wish that the coma tunnel had not opened up.
When I find myself thinking of my roommate and the paramedics
Scooping me off the floor or mother's anguished face,
I wish at times that I had not been around to see it.
It is with a heavy heart and guilt in my bones that I say this,
And YET!
There is more new joy to be had.
There is some peace to be found.
There are thoughts to pursue and ideas to be contemplated,
The gentle and loving embrace of my partner.
There is music and rhythm to run to.
There are people to help and cupcakes to be baked.
I must not forget that being saved does not happen all at once.
365 days later, I am still being saved, everyday.
Yes, by medication and therapy,
Yes by the people that bring me joy,
But most importantly by myself.
I worked hard to celebrate 365 days,
Even if it is painful,
Especially because it's been difficult.
I've spent 365 days finding a new me
And learning to accept her.
She is new, a young and sometimes delicate version.
It is hard when her foundation is built on ashes and blood.
I am not pleased with why I ended up here,
But I am proud to have survived the journey.
After all,
A lot can be accomplished in 365 days.  
I wish I had known then how much can change.
I am glad I know now.

Sometimes I feel the Reaper
Winking at me
He wants to come over
For a chat and some tea
He’ll tell me that I am nothing
But an echo from the past
My future behind me
That I’m fading fast
He’ll score some very clever points
To weaken my resolve
Then sincerely assure me
There’s no problem he can’t solve
But like my neighbor’s crazy dog
Who barks up an empty tree
He and I
Won’t see eye to eye
And he may not enjoy his tea

A silhouette of a man has come.
He knows that I,
A breathless man,
Wants to die.
My soul feels like rotting,
Like it doesn't want to exist.
I don't understand why.
I have people around me.
I am happy.
But sometimes not.
I don't understand the world anymore
Not even myself.
I just want to end all of this
By the grimmer blade
The silhouette has carried.

Stress reliever?
Pour the liquor.
Dream bigger?
Pull the trigger.
Rusty the rowdiest.
King of the Tinkerers.
Grimmer than Grimnir.
Son, you’ll need a ringer.

Stress reliever?
I’ll skip the liquor.
I’d rather lick her.
Villainous like Victor.
No, sinister like Sam.
You slither.
I stand.
Praise Prometheus
or catch these hands.
Understand?

Dark and darker the night
Black crows dance in flight
Cold and colder my skin
Blue veins glow from within
Red and redder my blood
Agony crawls through the mud
Grim and grimmer my smile
Hello Pain it’s been awhile
Deep and deeper my sin
My soul shudders it’s him
Strange and stranger the fear
I scream out my tears
Wild and wilder is death
He drinks me in till there’s nothing left
Dark and darker the night
Black crows dance in flight

It’s all being taken, bit by bit
And the part that should be railing
Declines and finds it hard to care.

First the beauty slipped away
Followed by the figure.
Memory then tagged along
Searching for the smartness.

On the stroke of one midnight
It all turned even grimmer.
I 'd slept through the afternoon
While I became a lesser person.

Helicoptered New Year’s Eve
Began a never ending list
Of things diminished - or all gone
Discovered in the passing days.

Time drags on and so do I
Uncovering new losses
Of things I never will get back
And striving not to miss them.

My goal is further down the road
They say it is too distant
But battered though my life may be
I still intend to make it.
ljm

Biblical Egyptians benefited from labor
From their underpaid neighbors
Who looked for a savior

Long ago are the days of Joseph
Serving the pharaoh with his mind
Pharaoh hates the other kind
Working them as slaves
Who shall not misbehave
They must walk through the desert and make sacrifices
But pharaoh confines them to their quarters
And forces them to obey his orders
Not to leave the defined border
God hardens pharaoh’s heart
While he tears them all apart
So God sends a plague of locusts
And other kinds of hocus pocus
That’s not the focus
The country started to wither
From the snake that slithered
In its leader’s innards
Thinking he’s a winner
When he’s just a sinner
Making his once great nation grimmer
As the meek eat their last supper for dinner
They look to a leader
For a pharaoh defeater
But even though Moses had God preach to him
He still needed Aaron to speak for him
In order for the meek to win
We must seek to step in

O' take me off the deathly scribe! For now;
My heart does bid his bones to draw me not.
For mine new love could not neath stone, allow.
Yet pure to still relive past breath, than rot.
No grimmer fate than crawling dirt to sire
As meant for fair and sweet, not feast to dust.
Tho' laws of ashes still bids me to mire
Extend this time, then I will sleep that crust.
To reap one's source, then must have inner sight!
Then known this pith of mine; which rules my core,
Recall then death to when you lived such light
Then sure as all who lay; you'll wave me more!

O' rid me not to soil when love's too soon
May scythe withhold for love, and then let hewn.

Out in the real world they march around like angry ants

huddled masses each in their  lone planets, never seeing

eyes averted, grim faces, grimmer minds, quick steps

as if every one is searching for something lost in the wind

never seeing who's next to them, never knowing who's lost or

lonely



In the subway heads are buried in broadsheets or giveaways

voices hardly rise above whispers as papers rustles in turns

a cough there, a sneeze here, doors opening, doors shutting

only the voices of kids and teenagers peel in the carriages

A pregnant lady stands, no male got up and offered her his seat

the carriage is a sealed capsule going to space and all is plugged in



Come evenings and in slippers and comfy dressing gowns

life suddenly begins, computers fires up and every one

rushes into communities online, its facebook, its instangram

its twitter, its this and its that, virtual humanoids in virtual lands

the frustrated trolls dribbling spittle, mad eyes rolling, springs alive

their day has began as they take seats in their Office of Hate and

Insanity



Hello Pippa, , hello John, hello Blanko, and the chatters begins

stories are shared, pictures downloaded, gossips do the rounds

My wife did this, that person grows okra and **** tell of his
students

you could almost hear ices clinking in glasses as if all were at a
party

Troll 1 has that Posh successful lady, she serves at the cafe, in her
sight

Troll 2 is after the ex who told everybody he has a little floppy ****

Troll 3  has it in for the that flashy rich black footballer with the Bentley



Tomorrow they will all go out again, wearing blank faces marching like ants

eyes down turned, muted voices and heads buried in rustling papers

Some would sneeze and some one would clear their throat loadly

Pippa may be seated next to John but neither would know each other

Bobby cancells seeing mum later, he's got to finish that Minecraft battle

Eddie retired, sits all day surfing, waiting for all his friends to come online

Whilst Sammy has started virtual *** webcaming with that Chatrulette ******

Human lives go on. but its in the virtual world now, minus our humanity.

Do you remember his name?
Maybe he comes with fame?
When you go over to ask
His image does not last
All that's left is a shimmer
Now your day is grimmer.



© Sofia Villagrana 2018

Eyes are pretty.
Green.
Acoustics.
Why.
Under.
Why am i ******* writing this.
Blankets.
****.
It’s not right.
Wait.
Until I write this.
No need.
Sky lights.
Double back.
For the first time.
In Forever.
Please.
Too much.
Not too much.
Not enough.
Never enough.
No more dreams.
No more drugs.
No more.
Ignore.
Ignorance.
Persistent.
Friend I'm sorry.
Highway.
Drive way.
Lightly.
Highlights.
Highway road lights.
& fog.
Headrest.
Sifting.
Conquest.
Conscious.
No more affection.
No longer intimate.
No longer important.
The writing is no more important than the ground I stand on.
Bleach & paint thinner.
Sadness gets grimmer.
I’m uninvited to my own funeral.
Let the takers flood in.
Let the knowers get drunk.
Let the mental serial killers float about.
& let the plan work with doubt.
Let the Charlie find their way home.
Let the poets go to Rome & drink tea, and whiskey.
Let the skellies run up mountains.
let your nerves wash away in a lake.
& let her kindness melt within what you need to take.
Let go.
Let go.
Let go.

I think back,
and it was,
it was this bad before.

You think it will end differently, but you know what's in store.

The older you get, the harder it is to maintain.
A machine run on poison cannot be sustained.
It cracks and creaks,
and liver fluid, it leaks.

You plan your life,
not by years,
but by weeks.

Repeating affirmations cannot keep you sane.
You go to work, you do yoga, and you stay in your lane.

But the sweats, the shakes, the numbness and the shame.

It's always the last time,
but it's always the same.

You are driving down a one way.
Full speed towards the end.
To feel something, or nothing,  or to avoid it all again.

Who can you run to or pray to from above?
Who can you talk to without hurting those that you love?

You have no one but yourself.
But you don't care if you fail.
And you know that others have far grimmer tales.

So you keep on grinding,
keep doing the same **** everyday.
And pray that the pandemic will take it all away.

You felt this all when you were younger,
wrote it down and talked it out.

But that didn't help, you moved on
but it lingers,
explodes,
and comes out.

What is the purpose and why should I care?
What is the end goal and why am I here?

Stupid, *******, emo ****,
an outlet to explore,
but instead, let's drink more.

The news gets grimmer
Hope combats desperation
We worry, we pray, we console, we stay
Embedded in our houses
As the world suffers
Still, life goes on amid the fear and pain
This is the human condition:
Times of happiness
Or of war
Or of fevers that are deadly and widespread
We cling to our family and friends
Those who need help discover who their true friends are
Yes, we are in this together, meaning we all have an obligation
to act and stay safe
To support each other
To stay optimistic
To smile underneath the mask
We are not the first people of the world to face a global disaster
We will get through this somehow
We have the will, the power, and God is on everybody’s side