You stalked my walls and found them wanting.
Then you, with exquisite ease,
Complicit I bade the watchmen wait,
For a signal of your purpose.
But you so carefully and quietly,
began picking and removing, unpacking and exposing,
unwinding and reclaiming all,
that you could posses.
Is it wrong that I still long to belong?
To share every care and touch your hair?
To pillow fight, fly a kite, hold me tight,
whisper secrets in the dark, swing in the park?
The day was sad and wearisome,
It chilled me to my core,
I’d known that something would go wrong,
Though I could not be sure.
I’d felt so tired and lonely, still,
My heart had ached for him,
Beneath the Christmas trim.
Dear Mr Cameron, please help me do
You see I’m really struggling at the hands of you
You’ve taken all my money, my pride, and dignity
Leave me to wallow in a pit of poverty
I’m trying to swim through quicksand
With sand bags on my back
But the punishments relentless
Roots finding no soil
A mind lingers in turmoil
An endless journey
Unable to flee
The sky is crisp and clear and blue,
His breath is on the air,
He silently walks through the street
With sunlight in his hair.
His eyes are cast down at his feet,
He hurries to get home,
Afraid to stop beside the park
With the blackened dome.
Yes a soldier now that was a thought
I’d never had before
I didn’t fight, I’d never fought
And I’d never been to war.
But myself, and millions of others
Decided to heed the call
And despite the tears of our mothers
We trooped off all proud and tall
Together as mates from our towns
All over these sceptered isles
We left young and happy, but soon frowns
Replaced our naïve smiles.
she bobs up
and down, violently
tossed by the waves, frantically
snatching rapid half-breaths-half-gulps-of-ocean before she’s
plunged ten feet
propelled back up, an insignificant
buoy caught in a
cyclone’s raging passion. his arms
grasp at her as
forcefully as a prayer expands out against
her chest, calling
for ocean to swallow the
naked groans and shrieks yanked
out into the unforgiving air—
a plea that she might
die this moment, escape
the body convulsing and writhing,
My own ears whisper truth
But my eyes deceive me
To watch you
Plucking the chord
For it to belong
Tired of all these miseries
She seeks some solace,
Tormented with questions
She’s a hobo, now turned soul-less,
Wandering in the crowds
She searches for one single face,
The cause of divorce one way or another
Who’s always accused of being a lover
Causing a rift at parties or work
‘Cause you’re castle made of ash
And I’m the flame who burned your throne.
You and I were meant to crash,
Find me, ember, smoke and bone.
One eye, a black button had come undone
His matted faux fur bleached from the sun
On school yard, playgrounds, and grandma’s front stair
With Ann, Mr. Buckles went everywhere
The days are long, hot, and maddening,
the nights cloudy, starless, and sultry.
Sleep withheld behind a heavy dark veil.
Spirit weary in its empty aloneness.
Fleeting visions from happier times,
refuse to project, on the silver screen within.
Joy from dust-covered chapters, dissolves in decay,
upon the sagging shelves of remembrance.
Did we ever exist?
I thought we had it all
But hope is lost
In a broken world
Where you and I ran free
To be anything
Our minds could imagine
Now we’re all grown up
And I don’t recognize you anymore
There’s a little angel sleeping,
In the clouds up above,
When I think of her soft, sweet face,
My heart so fills with love.
A little light glows brightly, still,
Nestled within her heart,
It’s fueled by all our memories,
Kindled right from the start.