"loaned" poems
Under the sheets of emotional armor,
A shy little girl masquerades as a martyr.
She’s the Queen of Deceit with her lies getting smarter,
While every tale told draws her self even farther
From finding out why she’s emotionally bothered
By all of the men in her life: like her father
Who only was trying the best for his daughter
And striving to be something more than a pauper
But coming up short. Who knows how much harder
He’d try if she wasn’t an argument starter?
The guilt and the shame from the family slaughter
Has made her insane and continues to bar her
From finding out just what the world has to offer.
Luckily she won’t have to be here much longer;
In fairy-tale land, there's nothing can harm her.
She suddenly finds herself all alone
With nobody’s thoughts to address but her own.
This is the time when she’d pick up the phone,
Demanding a savior to hear her bemoan
About all the problems that she’s ever known,
But what she doesn’t know is a friend can’t atone
For the lack of a man with his patience to loan
To a lost little girl whose bad temper is known.
All she needs is a strong one that doesn’t condone
All the treacherous lies and the hatred she’s shown.
It’s hard to deny all the reaping she’s sewn.
She’ll have to tread soft lest her cover is blown
And everyone finds out she still hasn’t grown
Through the hundreds of tempers and tantrums she’s thrown.
Hopefully soon she can bury the bone
And calm herself into a nostalgic zone
Where smiles and candles were filling her home
And love and affection were all that was loaned.
Enlightenment comes when you realize you’re prone
To the wrath of the heartache that comes with the throne.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 8:07 AM UTC
Like a male monkey you rises up
And thumps hard your chest-it is you and you only!
O Man! You forgets, who you are and what you are is Nature’s
She generously gives and she avariciously takes-
Just a few chances she is giving you to repent before she ruthlessly returns
She is a sharp, doubled edged sword-merciful and merciless!
Man, Humanity is not hostility: Humanity is humility!
Like Sheol that is never satisfied you want to swallow the whole world
Like death you want to take everything, big-small-you want to stomach all
Everything you want to keep to yourself, to be to your entitlements
You take and leave nothing at all for the harmless hopeless-the voiceless
Yet you easily forgets, when the angel of death calls it’s only you and your soul in burials
Your ill amassed pride, wealth and health is not with you anywhere in this your brutal trials
Man, Humanity is not gullibility: Humanity is generosity!
O man! O man! You fills the whole world with mortality
You have killed the sole essence of the soul’s endless immortality
With your undignified dishonesty, your free-will to filthy immorality
War you begins wealthy to get-war is a supernormal profiting business
Man, Humanity souls has never been subjects to severity but sanctity!
Innocent-as little as little children-you murders-they were inevitable!
Common civilians’ deaths are collateral damages-inescapable!
You forgets who you are-you are a little loaned, little you returns for judgment
Here no allies to look after your backs, no cracks to corruption kickbacks-
It is the fairest of all hearings, a ***** for a ***** it is not for a big spoon!
Man, Humanity is not ignobility: Humanity is dignity!
What you are given to govern you governs not
What you are given to take care of you pilfers all
For you and your lineages eternal legacies-the richest ever to have graced the earth!
Yet you forgets, Master a little while returns to put you to a rigorous account
And whoever much is given-that much is also expected, what will be your report?
Man, Humanity is not royalty: Humanity is loyalty!
Humanity is a community, not a sorority of individuality!
Humanity is not infidelity: Humanity is honesty
Humanity is not how wealthy: Humanity is how a loyal legacy
Humanity is not how large is your multinationals entity:
Humanity is how huge is your small heart-its hospitality
Humanity is a humble history, a saintly story!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
Selene.
By the sea, I have been staring,
at your bright colours change.
Erythematous, murderous intentions of
a disease disseminating
on your surface.
The slow, penetrating anguish
tearing the guts,
a one-sided, disdained,
newborn sadness,
I am welcoming in my arms.
On the operating theatre of life
white and now dead moths,
stillborn butterflies
inside the flesh removed,
drowned themselves in a pool of blood.
They, an absurd joy
that never stood a chance
inside this cyanide prison.
Portals of loaned,
disillusioned happiness closed.
The liquid that raced turbulently
through my vessels, drained on a half-filled
with tears palette.
With menacing, impasto knife-like strokes
on the body
Morpheus painted the shadow-covered moon
with memories that refuse to be forgotten
from purulent, open wounds.
'Those worlds you will (never) see.
The people you will (never) meet' he said.
Soul chemicals eroding
the behemoth sky,
as the paint dries out.
Ashes of my Dreams (Not) Achieved,
astral remains;
everything I silently kept inside.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
I loaned a friend $3000 for plastic surgery,
I am still looking for her.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
I thought I might be a musician
Mom couldn’t afford my lessons
My eyesight wasn’t great
I couldn’t read notes fast enough
Practicing annoyed the family
I only managed last chair, 2nd violins
But still
I got to play in High School concerts
In shiny dresses with glitter in my hair
However
I haven’t held a violin in years
I loaned mine to a Bluegrass band
The leader died - and it was gone
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
I thought I might become a dancer
But my fingers can not touch the floor
I couldn’t kick much higher than my waist
Choreography was hard for me to learn
I had the stamina if not the skill
My partner wanted someone else
But still
I danced on stage in a college play
And Morris Danced at the Old Globe Theatre
However
I’ve forgotten how to keep the beat
And all the dance floor moves I made
I’m too self conscious now to try
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
I fancied I could be a singer
I knew the words to all the songs
And I could keep the melody in tune
But I had a voice with no vibrato
And the quality was thin
My range was very limited
But still
I sang Blueberry Hill at a talent show
In a black lame’ dress and surprised a few
However
I couldn’t get the hang of harmony
And found I fit best in a choir
My family wouldn’t hear my solos
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
I thought that I was born an actress
I practically got that one right
I had a lead in an Ibsen play
And toured the state with Macbeth
But Hollywood was one big casting couch
And I could see no way around it
But still
I got to be on TV shows
Winning games and merchandise
However
I sold the Firebird Convertible I won
I needed rent money more than a car
And rules allow you only three shows in a lifetime
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
I always thought I was a poet
I started young and never stopped
But family ignored and scoffed
Then I got trapped inside my mirror
And only wrote when all was beak
Somebody said my stuff was dreary
But still
I stumbled on the HP website
And found a group who like the words I write
However
When I read the others’ writes
I realize how limited my skills
And fight the need to run away and hide.
∞
It seems I dabbled in all the arts
Looking for the one that fit me
And finding they all needed alteration
And I never had the proper needle
∞
Still, a moment in the sun
Is better than a lifetime in the shade
I had a taste of everything
Though the banquet was not mine.
ljm
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 12:24 PM UTC
A girl with arms and legs
A brain
A liver
A heart
A broken one
The liver I mean,
Not the heart!
Lost, but never in-pieces
She doesn't personally own one,
Or she does, it was stolen you see
The one she has now, she loaned
Just until she finds her own!
Though the time she uses to pay back her loan
Is time away from finding the stolen core
She pays through her liver
And her innocence
Speculating where her heart actually went
She gradually rewinds her life
To see when it disappeared
Maybe it was beaten out of her by her father,
Or flushed out when she put her finger in her throat.
Maybe she left it with her virginity,
Or she threw it away with her dignity?
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
I was outside a bar one night, smoking a loaned cigarette and looking at the stars. Next to me was an old man on a stoop, smoking too. He asked me what was one my mind, and I said love.
"It's stupid, the way we think sometimes" I said.
He got up from his stair, and joined me by the street side, looking up at the stars while he took a deep drag, paused for a moment, then exhaled and walked towards the night.
"It's stupid to think."
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
The lighthouse keeper and his son, one day
Were out on the rocks, by a blue-water bay
As the sea, their bare feet was laving,
They saw a mermaid, they first thought was bathing;
With long dark hair and eyes of green;
Like the mist of a loch, that sings.
She was struggling and sick, in the foamy sea
So they took her to the lighthouse, above the lea.
She begged and pleaded, to die in the sea;
But there in the lighthouse, she seemed fated to be.
A clawfoot bathtub became her home,
And there she stayed, never to roam.
Some children taught her some words and rhymes.
To help her to pass all the weary time.
The lighthouse keeper thought she was his own,
Though from the sea, she was merely loaned.
Sometimes a midnight, would find him there
Combing her damp and tangled hair.
In her long confinement, he was the one
Kept her sane, since she could not run.
They had long discussions until daybreak,
Entirely by looks and gestures they'd make;
She taught him secrets no man had ever heard;
How she could still the sea, with inaudible word
And how she could tell by the look of the moon
If spring would come early, or winter too soon.
And how the waves, did murmur below
If the weather be rough, or the hard winds blow.
How she'd loved and lost one merman that
Had gotten too close, to a fisherman's net.
They'd had a child, by the madman's reef;
Was eaten by sharks, and how they'd grieved.
He fancied that someday, he'd like a kiss,
For kissing a mermaid, seemed like rare bliss
But something forebade him, to come that near;
So he was content, just stroking her hair.
One day he found her, dead in her tub;
Her heart had broken, all for his love.
No mermaid can tell human men of her heart,
Or else they'll spend their lives far apart,
It's a law of the sea, older than time;
So this be the end, of the mermaid rhyme.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 8:04 AM UTC
Another dark day in this dismal old place
Snow clouds were moving in fast
The sky was so dark, and the wind had a chill
This was a storm that was sure gonna last
At Cy's, The Old Pawn Shop was empty except
For Cy and the stores old dog Gruff
The storm was en route and Cy figured that this
Was a good time to go through the stuff
Years of memories, years of tall tales
They were all on the shelves in this store
There was all sorts of jewellery, tvs and clothes
And in the back was at least 40 years more
The door opened sharp and the bell startled Cy
He was checking the watches and clocks
A young man came in, dressed all in black
Cy said "push hard or the **** thing don't lock"
The young man was tall, about six two I'd say
Cy had never seen him before in his life
He'd said "Sir, I've an offer, you can take or can leave"
"And it's the best one you've had all your life"
Cy looked at the man, intrigued though he was
He said "Sit, and I'll put on some tea"
He went to the door, checked the oncoming storm
And then he put the sign up..."BE BACK AT 3"
They sat and they talked, and they laughed as the wind
Blew the snow up against the front door
Cy pulled out some books, went and made some more tea
Then the man left and left Cy in the store.
Later that night, under cover of darkness
The man came on back with a truck
Cy opened up, and with Gruff by his side
They watched as the man quickly loaded the truck
Two days had passed, and the whole town was white
The storm closed the town for a day
The streets were a mess and the schools were all closed
And the kids had the day off to play
On the third day, the town, woke up almost as one
With people phoning up Cy's by the score
For as they all left for work, there all wrapped up in brown
Was a box, sitting by their front doors
Jim, was the first, opened his box outside
Saw the watch that he pawned with Old Cy
Gianni, and Mike, and others as well
Received items they'd pawned by and by
In total you see, almost 200 folks
Opened boxes paid off that dark night
Christmas was early for folks in the town
Given by a young man, who'd done right
Cy gave the names of the people he knew
Even though it was against the Pawn shop man's creed
He'd loaned out the money in interest free loans
To these folks that he knew were in need
About five thirty that day, the young man returned
Cy and old Gruff were waiting inside
They spoke how his stunt was a universal success
And at this, they both laughed till they cried
The man rose from his seat, shook Cy by the hand
Cy asked "Why did you come here?"
The man answered "I'm here after my Mum"
"Her names Mary, and I heard she serves beer"
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
How do you mend a damaged heart ?
Fractured, cracked or blown apart.
You can't use glue, string or tape
vinegar and brown paper was a fairy tale.
How do you mend a broken heart
You can't buy passion, love or butterflies.
They can only be delivered with a smile.
A smile that could bring nations to war
or make a gladiator kneel before.
How do you mend a broken heart
The same smile that could make a grown man weep
or tell bedtime stories to make a child sleep.
To look upon a smile and its holders eyes
can mend that heart if you let it try.
So how do you mend a broken heart
Not leased or lent,
borrowed or loaned,
only when given will it be whole..
When another holds all you are
Is how you mend a broken beart
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 4:15 PM UTC
"I Need It"
[Intro:]
Turn it up, let me hear it
Turn it up, let me hear it, Oh DUMB
[Hook:]
I need it up in my life
Every night I get on my knees ask but
Heaven ain't been speaking back (speaking back) I need it up in my life
This goes out to every ghetto every project who know losing's not an option
I need it up in my life (yeah)
All this money cars and clothes
You know I'm balling out control, on you hoes
[Verse 1:]
They attempt to label me inhumane
I believe in God but not your God
Last ***** got outta pocket on the wrong decor got broke off What the **** is up with these A&Rs; "I Need It"
[Intro:]
Turn it up, let me hear it
Turn it up, let me hear it, Oh DUMB
[Hook:]
I need it up in my life
Every night I get on my knees ask but
Heaven ain't been speaking back (speaking back)
I need it up in my life
This goes out to every ghetto every project who know losing's not an option
I need it up in my life (yeah)
All this money cars and clothes
You know I'm balling out control, on you hoes
[Verse 1:]
They attempt to label me inhumane
I believe in God but not your God
Last ***** got outta pocket on the wrong decor got broke off
What the **** is up with these A&Rs;
Criticizing music they can't make
Poking fun at my struggles I don't find **** funny
I live in places that ain't safe
2008 I got my leg blown off
Any given day could get my head blown off
Rest in peace to Tyree Edwards
Bullet in his head got his head blown off
Tried school was a great kid
Academically I excelled in it
Grew up poor got teased a lot
Cause my school clothes had a smell in 'em
Same shirt four weeks straight
On the block grinding, got sales in 'em
Juvenile detention my case worker said I might be headed for a crash course
No father figure role models up in prison all my jump shots hit the back board
Head-on collision, not watching while I'm steering
No air bag, head hit the dash board
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
Approaching me and wanna shoot the ****
But pretend as if they're here to help Gates
Behind my back in front of label heads
Saying "Kevin just won't cooperate"
Missed flights, showing up late
I live life didn't rap about it
No time to live, my time for them
How the **** I'm gon' rap about it
Speak the truth or rap around it
And in a wrap around I rapped about it
Tragic ending for some family members
In heaven sitting wishing I was with them
Instead I'm stuck in this hell on earth
With pretend friends who think of ways to get me
Couple ****** I loaned money
Said they got me and never get me
Tell a ***** no I'm never guilty
Still ain't got no guilty feeling
Always telling me what I should do different
But can't explain why they ain't winning
My own blood just turned against me
In disbelief I'm like "not true"
Devastated, got caught off guard
When I seen the switch I'm like "not you"Criticizing music they can't make
Poking fun at my struggles I don't find **** funny I live in places that ain't safe
2008 I got my leg blown off
Any given day could get my head blown off
Rest in peace to Tyree Edwards
Bullet in his head got his head blown off
Tried school was a great kid
Academically I excelled in it
Grew up poor got teased a lot
Cause my school clothes had a smell in 'em
Same shirt four weeks straight
On the block grinding, got sales in 'em
Juvenile detention my case worker said I might be headed for a crash course
No father figure role models up in prison all my jump shots hit the back board
Head-on collision, not watching while I'm Steering no air bag, head hit the dash board
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
Approaching me and wanna shoot the ****
But pretend as if they're here to help Gates
Behind my back in front of label heads
Saying "Kevin just won't cooperate"
Missed flights, showing up late
I live life didn't rap about it
No time to live, my time for them
How the **** I'm gon' rap about it
Speak the truth or rap around it
And in a wrap around I rapped about it
Tragic ending for some family members
In heaven sitting wishing I was with them
Instead I'm stuck in this hell on earth
With pretend friends who think of ways to Get me couple ****** I loaned money
Said they got me and never get me
Tell a ***** no I'm never guilty
Still ain't got no guilty feeling
Always telling me what I should do different
But can't explain why they ain't winning
My own blood just turned against me
In disbelief I'm like "not true"
Devastated, got caught off guard
When I seen the switch I'm like "not you"
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
I am a mild man, you'll agree,
But red my rage is,
When folks who borrow books from me
Turn down their pages.
Or when a chap a book I lend,
And find he's loaned it
Without permission to a friend -
As if he owned it.
But worst of all I hate those crooks
(May hell-fires burn them!)
Who beg the loan of cherished books
And don't return them.
My books are tendrils of myself
No shears can sever . . .
May he who rapes one from its shelf
Be ****** forever.
2.3k
#Why I walk the street in a cobbler’s shoe?
What’s new, you may ask, that we all do!
But nay, this one, I had to borrow from him
Still one furlong my shoes ran out of steam!
The cobbler was visibly aghast
Doubtful looks on me he cast
Then he said in a garbled groan
I sell shoes not give on loan!
I cursed myself and the shoes I wore
Brought months back from a big shoe store
Price was high for the branded trust
A mere few months and the pair went bust!
So here I’m at the cobbler’s door
Walk I must a furlong more
Begging for an old worn shoe
My humble feet with that can do!
The guy though felt ill at ease
Seeing the misery bowed to my wish
Brought out for me a dirt stained one
Going barefoot could not be fun!
I tell you friends a story that’s true
The cobbler loaned me a pair of shoe
I could only give him good wish
Before I hurried on my way to office!
*If you ever beg love of her
This small story you must remember
She hasn’t a way but make you her own
Can either sale love or give it on loan!*#
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 4:15 AM UTC
*Kindred spirit, the privilege is mine, it's just that I,
I never finish because there is nothing going on, nothing to go on.
All right, all right, all right,
you're right,
I don't write as much as I used to,
but in all fairness (to myself)
I feel a bit more loose.
Never mean to,
but I guess I argue
a lot in order to hide
how much I really don't care;
Celina said it's not okay
but
that at least I know
it's insulting.
I only want to be in my body
when your feathery fingers graze my spine.
That tone an angel loaned
to you can ripple through
the void, make a soft,
translucent puddle out of reality,
can you see me
on the other side?
Don't say I'm angry,
it's just that
no one has ever really tried
to impress me, so I'm scared
I guess.
Remember you are here,
don't be weird about the types of things
sentimentality will bring,
will string along to the
forefront of an open sore;
no one pours the sink a whiskey
drink until the girls are crying out above the stars,
better yet, stirring them from afar
for their own faults, for being
fickle with love
and their own hearts.
You know I don't sleep much,
You know I don't dream of such
pretty things but I could imagine
how you, in a different life,
were gifted eternal wings.
Those that brought you to me.
I would weep
if I wasn't made of stone.*
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Fight or flight
That was my plight
Distracted driver
Temporarily took my power
Praying for sleep
Counting the sheep
It’s like treading water in the deep
Can I keep pushing through?
Not sure quite what to do
Visions of chrome grills
Drenched with chills
Flashback night
Nightmare day
Will this ever go away?
EMDR
Got back to driving the car
Taking buspar
Have I come that far?
One foot in front of the other
A daily mantra loaned by my brother
It’s important to only focus on today
It’s all we have, wise people say
Life is an ongoing journey
So very grateful for His mercy
I continue to battle and refuse to cower
After all, I’ve learned I’m no fragile flower
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 8:58 PM UTC
When they say 'I got your back',
make sure they don't have
a knife in their hand.
It feels like I'm
just a dog and
I've only dug up
one more
bone of contention.
When I say
I'd like to
give you
a knuckle
sandwich,
I know it's
not for the best
even though
it's true,
in the end,
I'm like the robot
flying the drone
unmaned,
I've got ******
behind
these sunglasses,
so I end up
throwing up
my arms
and settle with
pounding sand.
You ask; "What's your problem?"
While I stand among
the stars,
And I shout out,
"too many to mention."
I have bought
and sold
the Farm.
When I grew ill
and had to
leave my job,
you treated it like,
I was a lazy *******
You had me
by the *****
yea,
that *** got stirred.
I was so
'on fire'
with anger.
You stood there
with a bellows
fanning
the flames.
I got your number,
I know your game.
After knowing you
more than a decade,
being there
to look after your kids
while you
went out and drank away
the money
I loaned you,
all the while trying
to get yourself laid.
Man I played the fool.
I miss the kids,
and the 'should of dids',
as for you, you can go to hell.
Like the carcus
of a rotting animal
you give off
such a strong sickening smell.
**** the "Glade",
**** the
keeping all the
doors and windows open.
I'm going out
to have a drink,
What a weight
off of my shoulders.
Get lost
because
just got paid,
I'll be dammed
if once again
I'll let myself
get made.
© 2013
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
Life is a library, but
Too many of our pages are blank,
Our words transparent
Forced into dogeared corners.
Not spineless per se,
But visiting a chiropractor regularly.
Covering our selves in judgments
Worn with both shame and pride.
We tire of the climb and the thinning air
We bookmark the times we falter
And when we shield our eyes from the glare.
Our minds are marked by the epithets
Gifted unto us by others.
Some arrows fly true to the bone
Others are way off the mark.
And when our final pages have been read,
The book loaned out or discarded
All that remains of us is said
In a line on granite epitaph
The truth of the dead forever guarded.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Andy loved a girl named Sandy
Bill saw a horse standing on the hill
Cory told his mother a made up story
Dave dug many a grave
Eddy loaned his teddy to Neddy
Frank bought a Sherman tank
Greg had a wooden leg
Hilton was related to Mrs Wilton
Ivan strolled in the park with Jan
Jack scratched his own back
Kyle's hair style also suited Lyle
Lance couldn't obtain a bed valance
Max paid a hefty lot of tax
Neal earned a reputation for his *** appeal
Oscar drank at the Crown and Stag bar
Paul gave ten shillings to Saul
Quentin found a silver tin
Roger was a work dodger
Sam enjoyed a portion of Virginia ham
Timmy sure knew how to shimmy
Umberto listened to the concerto
Vlad priced an inner city pad
Wing put his arm in a sling
Xain often rode on the express train
Yule took a picture of the farmer's mule
Zeal looked forward to his evening meal
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
The lost causes never remember
moonlight matters
it's tapping at your window
Sounds of baby peddles and November
The looming causes fail to comprehend
loneliness lingers
It's ebbing at your elbows
The best of beer bottles and dead ends
The loose causes refuse to acknowledge
Ignorance ignites
It's gnawing as it follows
Daily articles and unrefined polish
The least causes lose sight in the daybreak
blossoms bittering
It will fade as hearts hollow
Graveyard backyards and bone aches
The lone causes acquiesce to uncertainty
pages punctured
It is freeing as it swallows
Sunsets red and abrupt against afternoon purity
The loaned causes shatter against the bribery
Coins cascading
It is a vision as she wallows
Lipstick Luscious and cultivating calvary
The last causes shall never translate
Sculptures scalloped
it is swallowing in shallows
Hoarded hearts and breakup dates
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Considering me a talented, aspiring shill
My muse loaned me a feathery quill
Brokering her wisdom, leasing her skill
With embroidered frills each barb with beauty did distill
Lithographer's vision, a graceful dividend to reveal
Depreciating vane my artistic license to bill
Hollow shaft gilded so her availing light could the vacuum fill
Inky reservoir with inspiration did instill
A deep well with literary devices did rill
Ideas streaming from strained cavity to the mind's tip with zeal
Burnished hues, sharp tones aesthetic notions to congeal
A precision valve appended vagaries to swill
An automated inkblot defibrillating patterns to spill
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 11:28 AM UTC
How a humble son of Scotland
Fought to enviable height
First a paratrooper captain
Then as a British knight
This witty chap from Glasgow
Loaned himself, a decorated past
From Distinguished Service Order
To NATO's advisory cast
As the press took him in notice
His wiki posts drew no pity
As with his tale of valour
He was defamed: "Sir Walter Mitty"
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
The morning I found the box
of photo albums in the attic
I learned that
the sun would have risen
even if I hadn't
Daylight is not necessarily
a good metaphor
for life
There you were
ten years earlier
having a picnic on the kitchen floor
despite the rain storm
visible through the foggy window behind you
You can make sandwiches
in any type of weather
but seeing the photos
loaned me understanding of why
you don't eat rye bread anymore
When I went back down stairs
I took our bread box outside to the birds
and made you soup
in silence.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
This day was fused with difficulty and a newer sun
The only note this night can end on, is a bad one
In the rush I fell further from life, poor fortune seemed impaled
The crude white's new and improved hypocrisy had been scaled
A restless heart burns beneath these bones with a trembling sigh
As I'm identified, it hits like vesta when these loaned emblems tie
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
I blame you.
I blame you for my tears and the nights I couldn’t sleep and keeping my heart I loaned to you.
I had hoped for yours back, but no.
I blame you for the dark clouds above me when the sun was trying to peek out from behind.
But I know I can’t blame you for the fact that I wore my heart on my sleeve.
Don’t deny that you didn’t see it.
Everyone did. Everyone called me out on it.
Everyone knew I loved you.
But it’s not as easy as you might think, loving you.
I can’t keep up with all your games.
And, I’m starting to have this feeling of abhorrence towards myself.
How can you hold a grudge against yourself?
Can’t you help what you do?
Yes. Most of the time.
But I can’t help what you do.
And what you do makes me love you.
But when I tried to tell you, I felt mocked.
Because the way you acted towards me was more than friendly.
I was almost sure of it.
Almost.
I felt stupid for falling for your idiotic game.
I felt like all I was, was a prize you didn’t even care about winning.
And I loathed myself for falling for you.
But I’m not perfect, and I still love you,
No matter how much I deny it.
I’m sorry I’m not what you were looking for.
I’m sorry I wasn’t like the perfect girl you are enamored with.
I’m sorry I laugh too hard at all your jokes.
I’m sorry I love your curly hair and your unattractive glasses.
I’m sorry I’ve loved you for the best part of my life.
And I’m sorry I still do.
And even though I know I shouldn’t,
I blame you.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
We went to the woods for a picnic
That girl was such a nitwit
She promised a lot
But all I got
Was a peck on the cheek and a biscuit
Her parents went to Rhyll
To me that sounded brill
I went to her place
All prepared (just in case)
And fed the budgie some trill
I said I've fallen for ya
Let's cuddle in the corner
She said that's nice
But tonight I might
Practise my recorder
She said it's good to share
I said I'm with you there
Then I was led
To a single bed
And loaned a teddy bear
I did my best to please her
But she was just a teaser
My money spent
My patience went
So it was time to leave her
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC