Vol. 1, No. 4
Does he bring
his mistress music
Does he play
her best for him
Are his dreams
of chase and capture
Is her loft in a cathedral
in the heart of Notre Dame?
Mon cher, je t’aime
Je t’aime pour toujours, pour temps indefinis
Tu me faisais du mal et je t’aime
Tu me deceives et je t’aime
Je t’aime malgre tout
Screaming shores of crimson blood
I’m drowning in the rising flood
Crimson light falls on my soul
The crimson hurt takes its toll.
Set ablaze a crimson sky
with a fire no one can pacify
When dusk falls on a crimson lie
my crimson soul will slowly die.
A crimson drop falls on my heart
of a crimson blood so sweet,
Slowly it fills my crimson eyes,
with crimson tears of deceit.
How crimson is your beauty now
in your crimson blood I see
No more crimson words or feelings
in you are left for me.
Crimson pain for my crimson soul
and a crimson wound for my heart
as I witness the death of a crimson love
when my crimson love departs.
You look my way and I start to melt
Your silent gaze seems so heartfelt
And that old feelin’, it’s comin’ back again
But will it bring me lovin’ or will it bring me pain?
Baby, I’m a wanton woman and I’m a wantin’ you,
When I get this way there ain’t nothin’ I can do,
‘cept go with the flow and take it where it leads,
And darlin’ you know a woman’s got her needs.
I can tell right now by the look on your face,
That this surely is the right time and place,
We’ll leave this bar in your pickup truck,
But will I end up smilin’ or cursin’ my luck?
We park down by the Dartmouth Levee
And cuddle up in the back of your Chevy.
Hey, I’m the kind of gal who loses control,
I wanna feel your fire etched on my soul.
I wake up later on and wait for you to say,
“Well, that was fun babe, now I gotta go away,”
Instead I get a smile that no one can fake,
And this time I know I ain’t made no mistake.
Baby, I’m a wanton woman, and I want only you,
When I get this way, there ain’t nothin’ I can do,
‘Cept hold you tight and let you take the lead,
And darlin’ you sure know what it is I need.
that’s the Army way.
I know this all too well,
for I lived it everyday.
Six long years of giving,
getting nothing in return,
except for scars and bruises,
and memories that burn.
Everyday I pushed myself,
I began as someone whole,
not realizing at the time
they would take away my soul.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t
what kind of person would I be?
the toughest lesson learned-
freedom isn’t free.
The best years of my life
spent fighting their “good fight”
but they don’t give a damn
that my burdens are not light,
that I still hear the screams
when I close my eyes at night,
that I carry these images with me
with no relief in sight.
As far as I can see on my antique CRT TV,
There’s one-tonne waste in the count of three,
Under the sea,
I change the channel in a fit of haste,
And they cheer those Indy cars that race,
You should look and see,
What a vulgar, stupid irony!
While they ruin the Gulf of Mexico,
They cheer the din of this absurd show,
And wave a green flag, say “GO!”
…all to please a madding crowd,
Whose tongues should be still,
to make their “Mother” proud,
Oh! To save their breathe and energy,
And clean Black Gold off the bayou, beach.
and it starts again
the heart’s hard boom
the recursive doom
the want of you
the where are you
the just be true
the I need you.
with a small pulse
and a gloved hand
with a finger twitch
and a simple plan
with a disappointed sigh
when I don’t comply
it starts again
you hit my mind
you slither by
you own my thoughts
you know my mind
its all yours again
and you know why
you said your hello
and I said hi
To swirl in the maelstrom;
Crimson’s thermal haze.
Incensed and senseless,
Blinded by our rage.
And while we hack,
At reason gone askew,
Softly falling, all around us –
A little of me… a little of you.
These words are all that is left
Of a well spent purse.
That jingle, that song of horror
No one really cares for
From the bottom of the gut.
Youth came too fast
it handed out too much fun
And too many do-overs.
Until old age sucker punched me
From around a corner of this year.
Now reality stings,
Its stubborn song
A throbbing pain in my mind.
All I have left now
Is this near empty purse
With these words
Slowing falling out
So if you decide to love me,
Know that there
Will be days when this heart
Has nothing left to spend
But these few lonely words
For you to catch.
The earth moves
as we follow our feet,
And the sun daily
has it’ s normal retreat
Is there any thing more
we need to learn
While icebergs crumble
and our faces burn
Wouldn’t it be cool
to live and let be
And fall to the ground
under the shade of a tree
And when we forget
sight from sound
Will there always be a place for us
on higher ground
Let’s make the world an offer
it can’t refuse
And turn this ground into glory
before we lose
Take only what you need
and feed the rest
Before nature calls
and there’s nowhere to nest
The cranes are voracious, ageless
long-necked dinosaurs stooping
to water’s edge
to breathe in sustenance
And the trees all around
thrash and bow
Clouds of rain drift through
tainting everything grey:
the undulating landscape
the slick siding on our homes
the tired bolts of the cranes
All is turned to stone.
Weather embraces this eastern shore
and the shore
braces itself against the weather
The cars whiz by in a flash and the raindrops
hit the skin. Listening to the sound of the
foghorn and the sound of silence can be
The sun has set and the day is almost over.
Ducks swim in the sea and the warmth of
todays sun still settles over the Island.
The world has moved and the hours have
passed and life goes on. Time stands still
for no-one. Each day is an addition but
yet a subtraction from the whole sum of
our time here on earth.
One senses their own immortality and feels
a lump in their throat for what cannot be,
what cannot happen and what cannot be
shared. One’s tears are tears of discontent,
apprehension and overwhelming sadness.
Love denies; love haunts; love hurts. Just
walking in the rain…
…languished in a forest marked with flame.
Where all the dying natives
…………………………are harbingers of pain.
Lonely, tall Bwana took his courage to the test,
…so the wasteland stood aside and said which path was best.
She first denied the luster of her brilliant golden gates,
…then the hero bowed before her and made proud her priceless face.
The platinum walls of myth he found were wearing frightful thin, …but Stanley bent down to the task and built them up again.
The gorgeous wealth of legend now belongs to one
…but the courage used to find her
…………………………………….was claimed by everyone.
Willow trees bend in the wind,
softly singing a melody.
How many wishes are made on four lines?
I lost count.
You will not come to this tree,
You will not find me
weeping as a willow.
For I am not there,
I’m but a vine on the weeping willow tree.
I’m rocked to sleep by the wind
in the willows.
No charisma lingers, James Dean’s rye and ginger
A media lie has taken hold, let the North remain
Why did the poet lie, it is how he holds his ground
A river burned internal, so chaos returned the call
Frozen to infinity, solo to find a way
Sinking into yester-year, another actor’s play
Blame becoming reason, escaping from the treason
Stalling the inventor, of progress pleasing
As all the underlings savagely drool
Scratching, heaving, heavy breaths
Rusting robot, but not rusted yet
Looking skyward, as the ground opens below
The water is tainted, bacteria to the rush
Burned by the asteroid, buried by the ashes
Choked by smoke, hibernation, reincarnation and such
Sheepishly shy, a baby’s non smile
While children forget how to play, we will all pay
…The emptiness in you
Aimed the mindless missile
Like somehow, it would
Fill your bottomless void
I curled as you hurled
Withdrew into myself
To the gentle den
I stepped forward
To be kissed by
Smiles of others
Who were also
Seared by the impact
We gathered strength
Left more helpless
Under a pear tree on a wooden bench,
smoked out, sun drenched
Thoughts come slow, hard to form a sentence
My back’s all bent, summer came & went
The rain spittles, hydrating my skin
Good for my lungs to breath it in, this whirling wind
September’s here & summer to an end
His constant voice pulls me through
Memories fill my chest, as I slip into a state of sleep
Fall is in the air
Dark hair, challenging stare
White boots & winter air
to the 24 hour grocery store, snow falling everywhere
Looks pretty dusting the streets
Hungry must eat, head pains, lead feet
When will we meet
Wetter than water
More quenching, more drenching
hilled and more filling
Drunk deep through the throat
Boiled to a bubble in a stone pot
laced with spice – and savoured
Silver clear across the rock
pouring and roaring over the edge
of the precipice
Racing down the river
Lifting and gripping the shallow shell
foam dancing and floating away
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