"insincerities" poems
I
Icy fingers wrap around
my legs and arms. They
sink their daggerlike nails
into my skin, and force
me to go to places
that I shouldn't be
Thick polluted smoke
enters my lungs, and
fills them with the
darkest tar. I cough
and spew out words
that I shouldn't say
Slimy tendrils slither
into my ears and wrap
around my brain. They
snake into the crevices
of the gray matter, and
force disturbing thoughts
to the surface of my mind
It's the Devil, my dear
who spits out poisonous
barbs that make you cry,
Not me.
It's the Devil, my love
who stares at you with
those cold red eyes,
Not me.
It's the Devil, mon cherie
who whispers sweet nothings
that always turn to cold lies,
Not me.
Don't you know I love you, babe?
II
Please forgive my insincerities
It's not me at all, you see
There's a devil controlling the things that I do
and wouldn't you know it, he's not fond of you
He made me take a gander of the lass with the cans
It was all him when I forgot our dinner plans
Don't blame me when I stumbled in drunk
He likes tequila, who would've thunk?
When our ********** session was somewhat abrupt?
He was the reason I was forced to erupt
When foreplay became no play, who else can I blame?
He's bad at back rubs, and we'll toss just the same
He's crass and uncaring and remarkably rude
He's insensitive, boorish and unimaginably lewd
He's not me, my dear, of that much I'm sure
I'm wonderful, loving, tactful, and pure
So the next time you're thinking of starting a row
for something I've done, or something I've blown
Take a deep breath and look into my eyes
and maybe catch a glimpse of the devil inside
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Life begins.
A simple beginning,
That quickly blackens,
And fills with lies.
Insincerities fly.
Mother tries and tries,
But father dies
And the world corrupts my eyes.
*** and violence and filth disguise
Themselves Like spies.
Insincerities fly.
Several birthdays pass,
A great relief:
They do not last.
Candles burn and blister,
Trying to erase and cover
The grief.
People thanking,
People wishing,
People praying,
All for my
Wellbeing.
Insincerities fly.
Out on my own,
Meeting new people,
Still somehow alone.
A door opens and closes.
A necktie
Adorns my clothes.
“Hello, Hello.”
Insincerities fly.
My father’s tombstone,
My mothers Aching, breaking bones,
A lack of numbness.
Sadness.
The ringing of a door,
The knocking of a visitor.
Sickness.
A doctor.
Pills and plugs and prying,
All with A false reply.
Insincerities fly.
Everyday, without fail. Insincerity. People saying hello and goodbye. People are born and people are dead. At each occasion they say “I'm well” and they say “I'm fine.” They say “good day” and “thanks.”
Insinceritas
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
Our homes are war zomes.
Made with bricks of invidiousness.
Polished with the indignities.
Plastered by insincerities.
Smeared by censures.
Stained by the scandalizers.
And
Shredded by the scandalmongers.
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 12:00 PM UTC
How do you **** an idea?
Find its weak point and
smother it with insincerities
Jun 26, 2011
Jun 26, 2011 at 7:29 PM UTC
Is this where it ends?
The pouring of words,
The same as the rain against the window.
Moisture to the grass.
Safely unlatching the gate,
The horses huff in the darkness.
The sky so bare,
But it reminds me of someone else;
Beneath his chin, beneath our dreams.
Is this where we have come?
To my insincerities,
To my lies, disguised as truths.
Half-truths, we will say.
Your arms an honour:
Your doors are opening,
Finally,
But I am locked behind my own.
Is this where the road ends?
Cooped up for too long,
The light has escaped our space;
Casting shade in your eyes
And doubt on me.
With the road that lay ahead, breaking slowly,
Crumbling in slow motion:
So loudly, so harshly.
Is this where we end?
Individual thoughts on the unknown:
Opinions and perspective
The world went upside down when you spoke,
Tossing me off my feet,
The red of my hair the last thing I recall.
An inner voice spoke then:
The clucks and the chatters faded.
Until it all became void.
But this is not the first time,
This will not be the last.
Although, it is the end:
To the vanilla latte air,
To the inconvenience.
The pins on the map are all mine now,
The administration is yours.
I have no more debt,
And the circles never combined anyway.
The sun sets while we look away,
As always,
And then we drift off:
Into the abyss, into our own worlds,
Into individuality.
Until we find our voices,
And start again.
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC
"when I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be"
Solo notes set to rest
Crimson petals fragrant
Descants and refrains
Take the light
Take the floor
This image flickers
Suspended adoration
Sister mine
Forever singing in the secret
Sacred places
Unscathed, unscarred
Wild irish locks in ringlets
at your throat
grace notes and triplets
concrete streets and desert skies
While years and tears fall around me
I keep you safe inside
Weve weathered everything
casual insincerities
jealous suppositions
vicious cycles of friends and enemies and fools
Ticking clocks mark idle time
You so often the weary warrior
While I cower naked behind these words
Pray they say enough to cover us both
Passing off my emptiness
You fill it up
Give again
Feed my monsters fragile kindness
from your hand
You bless me more than you will ever understand
My sister Treasure
the forgiveness of a friend
All my petty dreams and inclinations
gathering dust at the end of the day
I slip away to that sacred moment
and you are there
I hear you sing again to me
"whisper words of wisdom....let it be"
Take the light
and you are free
for Terry - who gave me a second chance at friendship.
012209
quote from Paul McCartney Let It Be
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC