The Price..

Doors were shut
Her eyes closed

Hands trembled
Her body shivered

Not with pain
But fear..

A voice was heard
Low chuckle

She had made a mistake
The price needed to be paid

Warnings were now  remembered
But she had already entered

Now it was too late
She could only wait
For the night
To play its game…

Red

Red heels, body balanced above.

Red dress, fits just like a glove.

Red lips, seething with lust.

Red rubies, slipped in the secret of my bust.

Red flag, beckoning.

Red silk sheets, decorate our night, into morning.

#14, “Bee happy, bee healthy!”

A woman cries salty tears into her cereal bowl.

Beaten and stressed she wails as she fills her problems with soggy Cheerios.

Three bowls in she stops, her stomach bloated and stretched. Her sorrow still floats in the milk that fills her distended stomach.

The cereal is all that’s left and she throws the box out the door with a sob.

Brown circles of processed wheat flies like hail stones against her car.

The box flops dead on the sidewalk.

Only to become a bed for her fat grey cat until morning, when her children scream, “Mommy we’re out of cereal, the cat stole it!”.

The mothers mouth still tastes of milky vomit as she gets out of bed and makes the children oatmeal instead.

“It’s Eight, And Little Red’s In The Hood”

“Hey girl, where you going?”

Sun’s hardly gone down,

And the wolves are out and about already.

 

“Stranger, Danger!,” I remember.

Head down, looking on the ground,

Make no eye contact, quick steps away.

 

But they circle me, taunting rapidly.

There’s just no going forward,

No retreat back.

 

Unwanted hands move in to trespass.

I grimace, recoil, shun their attention.

“No, stop it,” I glower.

 

They continue, and I stop flinching.

Pull out my kukri,

Cut, thrust, and slash.

 

All is still, and I walk on.

I text Grandma:

“Sorry, will be late, am on my way.”

Lessons in Life

Lessons remain unlearnt

Woe is me comes gushing forward in

Every direction

Anger and pain fill the air

Closely followed by a moan of self-pitying

A cry for help!

A pointless exercise in futility

A road lays before you

what are you choosing for yourself?

A variation on a theme

More pain, more anger, more broken dreams?

I wish for a miracle that the Divine Spirit

Lays their hand on you head

Either slapping you into our reality

Or shines the light and

You will finally see your way forward

But alas No you are from ready

So many lessons to learn

A blind man in the desert wandering around

Aimlessly to his ultimate death

A very sad state of affairs

Indeed.

(xiv)

like a whisper chases its shadow,
around a domed gallery made of stone
we leap-frog from liaison to liaison, yet
in the end, as at the start – are left alone


(will you be my gallery, my whisper,

or will you just leave me lonesome?)

Parallels and Obsessions Poem 11

Robin Williams died

He killed himself

Hung himself

On that horrible date

The anniversary

Of when she did it

Years ago

When she died

She killed herself

Hung herself

At 25

Parallels obsessions

I read article

After article

Why did he do it

What brought him there

So maybe I could understand

Why she went to that place

He had it all

Everything

Make me understand Robin

Depression

She had that

She had tried before

She had gotten help

Parallels obsession

Read more

Navigate pages

Makeshift films

Lovingly drawn sketches

Read about his filmography

His comedy

She always on my mind

Her films a few pictures

Her comedy wry and brittle

Almost forgotten

Parallels obsessions

Put it to rest

Relax, let it be

Its in the past

Nothing you could do

Nothing to say

Nothing to change

What’s done is done

Parallels obsessions

He hung himself

She hung herself

I wasn’t there

I didn’t know

His choice to end it

Her choice to end it

Parallels obsessions

Rest in peace dear ones

Rest in peace

Because I will never be at peace again

Haiku

Chilled icicles fall,

shattering near the ground they

Wound a small child.

Chew Some Charcoal

I think I’ll chew some charcoal
I need that black powerful stuff to ease my mind
And the electricity racing in succession
Of a thousand curses of hate
Of one million stress related rants
Of the joy hate that comes from being the powerful failure
That I am

I think I’ll have some charcoal
To avoid that press mess
To avoid that unapologetic apology
The nauseating embarrassment
Of my true feelings
Of my true
Self

I think I’ll chew some charcoal
And I think I’ll call a cab

Poem 14

You make me happy
When all else fails
I turn to you

You laugh at my jokes
When I make a joke of something
You laugh not get mad

You are my rock
When I need to rant
You let me tell you

You are my friend
When all others fail
You rise above