Bespeckled Shade

Holds in hand

An instrument

That severs

Years of strife

A shadowy life

Joined under a bleeding

Shepherd of tormented souls.

Joined by a man

Of cloth and bone

Bestowing blessings

Divinely raised

Later dashed

In a hotel room.

No reason or rhyme

Brought to a moment

Where, “sign here”

Sounds like an angel’s harp.

That ache that clogs your throat

And makes you wonder

If you would ever be able to swallow

Without stumbling over that lump

That makes it hard to speak clearly.

Makes it hard to be made heard

By anyone who cares to listen.

They say that they care

But it’s what you can do for them

Not what you may need from them.

You speak but your words

Fall onto ears that have been deaf

For as long as you can remember.

You are not an individual.

You are an extension of them which

They can’t control

To their consternation,

But they try

and they try

and they try

Because you are not your own

Until they die.

And even then, you are just a fractured soul

Haunted forever because you were not them.

The greatest gaslighting

Done out of “love”.

I choke on the lump

As my unseasonal rains wash my face,

my body,

my soul.

Have You Ever

Have you ever woke up
On the wrong side of life
Ready to fight everyone
Wrapped in bitter strife.
Kicking down castles
Hissing at the moon
Making friends enemies
Raging like a loon.
Nothing makes you satisfied
Chocolate tastes like sand
Insincere platitudes
Baseless, bitter, bland.
You rip away the mask
And everyone sees you.
The blazing eyes and venom
That guide you to be true.
Then that one special love
Reaches for your hand
Societal norms envelope you
“Hello,
I’m fine.
How are you?”

A fateful Vegas trip

Brought you to my door

Someone thought you made

A perfect match for me.

She was blinded by height

And yellow contact lens.

She couldn’t see the truth.

I saw the truth,

But I decided to take her cast off

And invited you inside.

It was all about fun

And games.

A way to past the time

And distract me from reality.

I could pretend I was in a rom-com.

Then you needed money.

Then you had a story.

Then your damn dirty shoes

Needed cleaning.

And you used my white towel.

No sorry.

Just a sneer.

A symbol so powerful.

A lesson learned well.

She said she thought you were nice.

She didn’t know you.

She just liked your height.

And your fake hazel eyes.

 

 

Dumbledore looks inept

He didn’t have a clue

To distract death eaters, like the media

But he had nothing on you.

Merlin is old fashioned

He cared about tables round

Your ways of manipulation

Makes alternative facts sound

Gandalf with his staff

Bolsters warriors to protect a ring

But you, sir, want to badly go back

When climate change wasn’t a thing

Dr. Strange was a real doctor

Medicine and magic, such power

But you, a Snakeoil Salesman

Makes mole holes out of a tower.

Can this mundane world hold you?

Will this democracy survive?

Will my children have a future?

Will our species continue to thrive?

Your finger is on the trigger

No wand, no cape, no spell

You, Masterful Angry Dark Wizard

Are creating a Masterful Hell.

The Sound of Bliss

Chit chatter 

Fills the void

With words worth hearing 

If you dare to listen. 

But busy minds

With cluttered thoughts

Insulate

Isolate

Negate the spoken word.

A venomous bite and arrogant slap

Cements destiny 

And births the sound of bliss

Silence.

Perceptions 

You and I could spend a lifetime

Seeing the same thing

But draw different conclusions

Because our eyes see

What we want them to see

Through lens colored 

By our world. 

I see a straight line

You see a curve

I see beauty. 

You see ugliness. 

I see chaos 

You see order

My desire for peace

Keeps me moored. 

Your wiring for manic

Keeps you busy. 

Can’t Talk

Have you ever felt 

Like you can’t talk

To anyone. 

Everyone gives you

Half an ear. 

You know their not

Listening

Because it’s written

Over their face 

And it colors their response

With muted tones. 

Makes you feel invisible. 

Don’t mistake my smile as acceptance

It’s my default to get through life

And weed out strangling vines

That causes all the strife.

Don’t mistake my sugar for sweetness

That’s folly through and through

If I’m always perceived as sweet

That doesn’t  bode well for you.

Don’t mistake civility for meekness

I’ve read the social contract

To get along, you go along

My motives are that exact. 

So go your way and I’ll go mine

My framework now is listed

If I treat you like a stranger

Just know you got it twisted. 

 

It oozes through the veins

Like moldy soft cheese

Coats the walls

In yellowish green

Putrid slime

You found hard to believe

Could have ever once

Been anything pure

Good.

It oozes through the arteries

Making it hard to move

From one place to another

Without feeling sick

In its wake.

It oozes out of pores

So small

You’d need

A microscope to see the

Holes.

The smell surrounds you.

Everyone can sense

Decay,

But too polite to say a word.

They watch you fade away

Slowly

With smiles and platitudes

It oozes.