Works of verse
Once the sex stops
and the last bus has gone
you start to wonder again
and all you know
is that you don’t know
a damn thing
the cigarettes are gone
and there aren’t any distractions
to take your mind off the hurt
I hurt
but no matter how much I bleed
I still am myself
so what can I do?
I don’t want what I have
and have no means to get what I want
I’m lost at home
and full of emptiness
I can’t comprehend
a person called me.
I see you in your sea of despond
For some reason, I am unable to respond
I want to swim out to offer you hope
But I am bound by this rugged rope
I lay here pinned to the safe shore
As I watch you struggle even more
I want to reach out with my hand
Seize you and bring you back to land
Dry all the tears from your eyes
Kiss you and make you realize
That I want to be close to you
I want you to trust that I am true
From my feet I’ve been swept
My promises will never go unkept
But you don’t know these thoughts I keep
Because you’re drowning, the water’s too deep
Now here I am, restrained and helpless
And there you are, thinking I’m careless.
“That is a dangerous dream,”
the giant praying mantis told me
“It is a vile, vile thing for us to have
to walk this bloodstained earth—”
“—But we are doomed to it,” I finished
“It was bloodstained before us, and so it
will be so.”
“Yes, all of the blood has mingled together,
so we cannot tell which is which,”
said the praying mantis
“My love said to me that if the house
was full of water, would I swim deep
to rescue him.”
“Of course you told him yes,” said the
praying mantis
She paused
“But it is dangerous to dream like that”
“Who said it was a dream?”
Sunlit beams of greater joys,
Moon-blessed rays of subtle ploys,
Wind-bound thoughts of happier days,
That’s the game of life we play.
Star crossed love forever lost,
Simple song’s eternal cost,
High-grown fields of golden hay,
That’s the game of life we play.
Crash of thunder overhead,
Blinding lightning of words we’ve said,
Gentle shower along the way,
That’s the game of life we play.
Storm-tossed hearts lying low.
Invincible enemy, untried foe.
Come what will, come what may,
The game of life’s the game we play.
The lights are out
and the house is quiet as she slinks down the stairs.
You could never tell but by her haunted eyes what fear fills her mind;
and a way she has of looking over her shoulder,
cringing from shadows, touches, and people who aren’t there.
You could never tell from her stylish clothes or her prettily curled hair.
Her designer shoes wouldn’t give her away, or her outstanding grades.
Yet she walks like she’s expecting some sort of brutal blow.
Her eyes flick from yours, should you have the stomach to meet their fey sorrow.
The lights are out.
All her family sleeps as she creeps from her room.
The gentle night holds her close, keeps her face in shadow.
Delicate fingers shake as they reach to touch a rose,
running her finger across a silky petal, accidentally snagging on a thorn.
She whispers a quiet word to the patient, kindly night, an ancient question
as her finger bleeds. “Why?” and as always the night does not answer.
A petal falls, disturbed by her unsteady fingers, unable to cling to the stem any longer.
Silently another petal falls; a flower’s life is not so long as that of a woman.
Someone stirs and she flees to her room.
The night sighs, caresses her face as she slips into sleep.
You could never tell from her peaceful face that she is any different from you.
Why do I have to know you?
I look in the mirror and see
Not merely my own reflection
But your face staring back at me.
Why do I have to care for you?
Countless times my heart has been broken
Your knifeblades of words cut me nearly as deep
As the thoughts that you leave unspoken.
Why do I have to believe you?
Why must my life consist
Of the promises broken and lies that you’ve told,
The scars that forever exist.
Why do I have to love you?
My feelings are coming undone.
Why, tell me why, must you be my father,
And why must I be your son?
I hold you and caress you
for the glittering serpent you are.
I kiss you as you bite me,
spreading your sweet poison.
I love you as you choke me
and destroy all I am.
And as your sharp fangs sink deeper into my soul,
I cling to you tighter for you have become dearer than
life itself.
Your sparkling eyes entrance me with promises
of companionship
Yet all you offer is a draught of loneliness.
Still, I cannot break away from you.
I drain my cup of isolation and beg for me.
And you offer me more as you wrap yourself tighter;
I become numb to your poison as I drink my misery.
And I cling to you, my devilish friend,
For you are all I have left.
Be what they want to see,
mirror their desire.
Don’t try to be
what you hope and dream;
it can’t happen
in this mirror dance.
Be what they expect,
mirror their thought.
Don’t try to do
the things you dream to do;
it will never happen
in this mirror dance.
The steps have been written,
the music taught.
There isn’t room for anything
that might be yours alone.
Be what they want to see,
mirror their desire.
Don’t try to be what you hope and dream;
it can’t happen
in this mirror dance.
Learn the steps swiftly.
Pray you do not fall,
for the music plays on;
the deadly music
of life’s mirror dance.
Perhaps we’re just two more teenagers
who think we’re better
and have something to offer each other
I’ve always been a good liar
at least to others
so perhaps nothing you do hurts me
I just make it
or maybe we’re both lost in a moment
a fresh experience
that makes us blind
we’ve possibly spent months trying hard
to keep ourselves, or each other, or both
fooled, kept from loneliness
I’ll see you sometime
and these thoughts I’ve never thought before
may make more sense then
I either love you or hate you.
We are teenagers
and not strangers
to this world
that’s hurled
in our face
the human race
hurting us
and spurting us
onto this planet
you bet
we’re alive
and we’ll thrive
when you die
it’s no lie
we’re the next generation
and contamination
is not in us
it’s lush
the way we go
so we’re in the know
about it
come hear us shout it
we’ll get it done
the job is fun
to us
we won’t fuss
as long as we get paid
that rules $ aid
from the dawn of time
our time
not yours
life’s no hors d’oeuvres
for you to eat.