A rose sitting on it's bush
With thorns down the stem
That makes a finger go
Drip drip drip
Red splattered paint
In the winter snow
Drip drip drip
The pain will stop
Once you let go
Of the rose
Thats holds the pain of red splattered paint
Mentally
Exhausted,
Not Living On The Inside,
Temporarily
Alone,
Living On The Outside.
And
Busted
Up In
Side.
Eternally Gone.
They say she's strong
But they don't know
She walks around on a daily bases
On the verge of tears
You don't have a clue
That she's not fine.
Maybe I don't cry, but I hurt
Maybe I won't say, but I feel
Maybe I don't show, but I care
Born into this world,
A different kind of guy,
An uphill struggle from the start,
Not accepted by the majority,
Not wanting to admit to this world,
What makes me different,
Dating as many girls as I can,
To try and change myself,
Not wanting to admit to myself,
What is inevitably true,
I deny myself of reality,
Hoping to please you,
The moment finally comes,
When I can deny no more,
Out to you I reach,
For acceptance and love,
When I awaken,
I look next to me,
Uncertain of who you are,
I begin to shudder,
The surrounding room unrecognizable,
Not cognizant of how I arrived,
My memory lacking all the details,
Not fully knowing what happened last night,
Worries run rampant,
As I try to sneak out,
Hoping I used protection,
Yet feeling much doubt,
Out the door I walk,
Hopeful it’s nothing but a thing of the past,
Praying you don’t call,
That I never bump into you again,
So close,
So far away,
Ubiquitous,
Non-existent,
I feel your warmth when you’re near,
The times few and far between,
The laughs and smiles that we share,
Before you vanish from the scene,
I call to prompt conversation,
Never certain that you’ll answer,
Naively hopeful for a response,
Typically ending in disappointment,
Out of the blue you call,
To talk and catch up,
Feeling the same chemistry as before,
Feeling as though we never stopped,
Let us then, do not lie
Though we lie next to each.
Let us then, do not touch
If our hearts so belie.
Let us then, do not kiss
Bereft of warmth are our lips.
Let not our eyes look at us
Blinds are drawn, the windows dark.
Let us then, do not let love
Fall into a habit like brushing the teeth.
Scatter the past to the rising wind
Like leaves fluttering in the Fall.
Let us then, not pretend to love
No reprimand for not being in love.
Life is a journey not bound on leash,
Let us, my love, now let us leave.
Head bowed, tail lowered
He slinks, dejected
He moves, turns around
Round and round
As he settles down in his space.
I am leaving for office.
Sancho looks at me, unsmiling
I cannot fathom his expression
But I know his sorrow at my leaving
I cannot look him in the eye, I cannot bear to.
In the evening, I rush back home
To see him, craning his neck
For a glimpse
Waiting, beyond the grilled gate
Anxious, excited, tail wagging
Vigorously.
Beneath the streetlights
I have watched him warily
Black, stout like a thug
Sticking close to my heels.
I walk away casually, as if unhurriedly
He doesn’t follow but moves swiftly ahead
Taller, taller, he stretches himself
I hesitate, wondering what to do next.
Bravely, I walk on, as he pales himself
Into the lights and shades of the doorways –
I look around, sigh comforted
Until he looms again beneath the next streetlight.
Now behind, now at my heels,
Now snaking, now sneaking away from me,
Like an omnipresent God
He streaks in the light of a passing car.
‘Come’, said the black (why black?) flag,
Hanging limp from the pole, head bow’d,
‘Yes, this is the house of the departed’.
‘Behind me, lies my master inside the house’.
‘I’, thought the black flag,
‘The herald, the proclaimer,
The silent trumpeter of death,
Turning eyes opaque in sorrow’.
On either side of the pathway
Chairs, red, lined up
Waiting politely for the old,
Awaiting their turn.
‘Why couldn’t I been red? My master
Now swathed in red silk, the flowers
In bright red and yellow,
While I, in sombre black’.
Under the dimmed lights, shadowed faces.
Bow-tied waiters pad by silently.
From the blistering sun
Into dark, cold caves
Offering anonymity, security
Of a faceless existence.
The impassive courtesy
A flicker of familiarity
Assurance of a sanctuary -
How I love this place!
In the glass, the liquor
The clink of cubes
Frozen like my soul.
Fizz fizzling out
Like my dreams!
By oneself, in twosome or in groups