Death of the Poet
vole
olev
levo
olve
elvo
evlo
No matter how you unspell that word it comes at you like a knife wielding maniac determined to destroy your sense of proportion, but when it ends in ashes and midnight sings the blues a poet can again make love to her darling suffering muse.
*When you dare to love you toy with pain*
~msloftis
The Thirst
Whiskey
Brandy
Wine
Beer
Vodka
Liqueur
I wrote your name on a napkin, traced those beautiful letters with my gentle finger and felt the hindrance deep and wide a gaping tempting whale mouth swallowing the good in us until we drown in the belly so far down no echo of the dying of this love could ever be heard amid the denial of the lying drink.
Relative
I’ve felt the living poison organism
deep inside me
moving along my veins and arteries
leaving mortar pits in its wake
snaking and sliding along the tops of good feelings
constrictor
blood letter
fist maker
born a bastard to my shame
the filth that covers my family name
you are the last to take the blame
What’s that they say about the balance kept
an itemizing and a tally?
Oh yes! I rememeber how it goes…
it’s really only relative
right up your filthy alley
Fuck You
What do you say to an unprincipled lout
in front of an open door
but who won’t walk through
how about the simple approach
the ever humble
and always effective
Primal
basic
and tempered
FUCK YOU!
Shimmy Sham
Didn’t you feel it?
I just threw a brick at you
my conflicted one
with your bullshit written all over it
and don’t you yet know
that what you don’t know
I can easily learn
while you check your reflection in the dirty mirror
and forget that I am right behind you
and these walls have ears
and eyes
and water running down the sides
and I smell the rot within you spread
eagled on your broken bed
of lies
Your entire life shimmy sham
The Empty Field
The traps do lie to the fox now cornered
unsure
fear eyes
racing heart
beating
lamb to the slaughter bleeting
what do I say
to the inside cryers
wanting nothing but to keep the hounds at bay
shall I sacrifice it all for what I know to be a trap
a skillful laying down of promises that cannot be fulfilled
like someone dressed to kill
Firmament
I remember lying on the cool wet earth
gentle mother lungs breathing into me
hands clutching blades of green
the white hot summer sun
true hammer of the gods
beating down and into my impoverished soul
the outsider being turned inside out
putting out the inferno with one tiny tear
from the corner of one blue eye
Freedom is a sound you hear but once, follow it.
Almost
Rhinestones
Fools Gold
Free Money
Used Cars
A Cure for Cancer
Fake Pearls
Degrees on the back of matchbooks
All too good to be true my darling
Almost half true too
All exactly like you
Millstone
The day it happened
was wet and warm
a burden in the air
heavy and shifting
in early spring
before leaves were fully in their green
a June bug harvesting information like a spy
regrettably despairing of the human farce
he witnessed every day
you then professed a knowledge of things unsound
gave it to me to wear millstone like around my neck
I lost the ability to percieve
or the opportunity to remain naive
and the clouds gathered and the rain splattered on my pretty blue dress
and my innocence flew away with the cackling crow
who always seemed amused
