not schadenfreude

I know you think, I think the worst-
but all hope I have, is for you first.
And when misfortune comes to your dismay;
I'd rather there was a different way.

tale

the tell of your tale
is always a bill of sale
under the tuck of your tail
once lived my endless fail
but I won't derail
I won't derail
I'll just set sail
I will set sail

this tête–à–tête

always tit for tat

fighting brats

comparing misogynistic acts

this absurd indignation 

for an alleged equivalent retaliation

how can I not fight back

over promises that consistently retract

the tell of your tale
is always a bill of sale
under the tuck of your tail
once lived my endless fail
but I won't derail
I won't derail
I'll just set sail
I will set sail

cool

this has me turned around
always getting lost to be found
listening to the same song
the waters have been rising for so long
and no one can ever hold me down
I keep swimming though I'd rather drown

and what I find so curious
is why you turn my kindness injurious
but let others lie to bury us
then you wonder why I'm furious

and your friends think I'm a fool
cause you always come off oh so cool
but in this epic duel
remember I was never cruel
since for you there is no rule
use my compass I'm your broken tool

and what I find so strange
are these postures you arrange
you let them think I'm the one deranged
when you swore you wanted change

they say, 'why is she in tow?,
see how she stumbles there below!'
it won't matter what they know
it's you that needs to grow
and these gifts that I bestow
are what you'll need to let me go

December 2011

hereafter

eyes dart from stage wing left,
I know I will again be bereft.
from the entrance lines of sight;
up and out to the lightning filled night.

be still and hope you will to my delight.
appear- tall bright.
far outside the well kept by the miser.
metronomic...

back to the sound riser.
to break the arc, without said dark advisor.

well you know, well you know
well you know. herein, hereafter
well you know, Why my master-
these words, mark my disaster.

you and your deserv'ed nesting.
drifting graceful... complacent besting
planning your everlasting
impending,
happy never forever-ending...

not a chance to see it through
blush anew
but yes you did, yes you do,
still seek the things
I can make come true.

still. a thought.
"in heat I freeze."
and your voice lingers back home,
in the trees...
in the woods,
those human sounds "are nice."
like when the calls came thrice.

staged wings, broken;
left black and blue...
you remembered but didn't follow through.
the sway, the smile, the moment to say,
"oh, sinewy! last chance, what will you do this day?"

if you did, come through the door
like before
thick-as-a-thief, wicked kind grin
could I, can I, do I... again?
mother may I, should I, adore?
begging, dripping...   then melt on the floor

in a pool of tears, still fall faster
we can always deal
with our sin
in the hereafter...

well you know, well you know
well you know. herein, hereafter
yes, you know, how to, my master.
and these words, true; mark your laughter.


June 2011

      

maladroit

whose mind's eye
have I been long trapped in
that made me so inept
and atomic constrained within
me, a cell, the membrane
against your lid archaic
trapped as paint
in the mosaic
each second I feel
the earth turn
as I watch the stars
in the night sky burn
await the last sleep
to wake the dream
with flight that slips
into the eternal stream
freed from the door of our lips
gone the fight of thoughts so mean
that darkness of mind no longer grips
everything is at last as strange as it seems

April 2012

bigger

bigger than this smaller than that
when you are silent that's an attack
bigger than this smarter than that
another disappearance it's all old hat
bigger than this older than that
thinking you're hiding shows what you lack
bigger than this sharper than that
there is no outburst that will keep me intact

hours

all those lost and thought forgotten hours
hidden by the lies they did devour
still this path before you may give rise
until and to your ultimate demise

give the day the line as proper written
if freed by your compass all is forgiven
when one can be what one believes
they shall never fall upon the road of thieves

secrets are kept and they will rot
that piece of you innate but forgot
give the light within you time
be as thou ought - the man by original design