Adjusting The Rules

Who are you again?

“I don’t remember.”

common  stranger on the other side of the room

an empty shirt of puffed up lies

60,000 gallons of water under our bridge

all you had to offer in lieu of kindness and love

your stiff lip trembling in a selfish fear

now that your host has shaken you off

leaving you to feed on another warm blooded fool

who will believe the gentle demeanor you’ve perfected

your non threatening pillow over the face

adjusting the freedom of another to state your case

but I still have my breath

and my voice

leaving me free to make the choice

to shut the door in your duplicitous arrogant face


Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

12 thoughts on “Adjusting The Rules”

  1. Hello dear Val… Been gone a while – but coming back to your blog is like coming home. The same fire and the same voice shine through in each word from you. I agree with Denise about the last lines – the strength and determination are unmistakable! A really good write…

    1. Hi Janine! 🙂 It’s good to see you out and about again, you’ve been missed. I’m happy you see I have remained consistently a pain in the ass 😉 Thank you so much for appreciating my words and especially for liking this one. This one was for someone in particular who did the passive aggressive control thing with me once too often until I finally escorted them out of my life.

  2. ho, look, i just found back this old canadian song^^, i give you the lyrics too^^

    Y’a bien des fois, j’aime pas les femmes
    Souvent, j’les hais parce qu’elles sont belles
    Quand elles sont fortes, je les blâme
    De vouloir s’prendre pour des hommes

    Y ‘a bien des fois, j’aime pas les hommes
    Je leur en veux d’être infidèles
    Mais, quand j’pense aux femmes qu’ils trompent
    J’me dis que c’est bien fait pour elles

    Car, bien des fois, j’aime pas les femmes
    Et leur beau discours de p’tite mère
    Et j’meurs de honte quand elles se pâment
    Pour un idiot d’homme ordinaire

    Parce que, bien sûr, j’aime pas les hommes
    Quand ils me chassent d’leur univers
    J’voudrais qu’y m’ prennent pour un des leurs
    J’voudrais partager leur bière

    J’me sens ridiculement femme
    C’est-à-dire frustrée de nature
    Une de ces qui font les drames
    Pendant qu’leurs hommes font les durs

    Y’a bien des fois, j’aime pas les hommes
    Et, pourtant, j’voudrais qu’ils m’adoptent
    Qu’y m’apprennent à ret’nir mes larmes
    A m’sentir fière d’être sotte

    C’que j’peux m’en vouloir d’être une femme
    Surtout quand j’tombe dans les filets
    D’un de ces pauvres polygames
    Qui m’jure de s’en aller jamais

    J’aime pas les hommes qui me déchirent
    J’aime pas les femmes qui me consolent
    Lorsque les hommes veulent revenir
    Y ‘a ces mêmes femmes qui me les volent

    J’aime pas les femmes quand elles vieillissent
    Avec des marques de chagrin
    Je hais les hommes de père en fils
    Car y comprennent jamais rien

    J’aime pas les femmes qui se promènent
    Qui s’en vont s’perdre dans tes secrets
    Elles sont peut-être les prochaines
    Que tu bris’ras à tout jamais

    Toi que je hais
    Toi que j’aimais

    {au Refrain}

    1. Now you see Gilles-Marie, this is why I’m so happy I hate or love everyone equally! 😉 Female, male, makes no difference to moi. lol I like this song and video and of course if the origin is Canadian then we know it’s got to be pretty damn excellent don’t we? Thank you Gilles-Marie, for the video, the lyrics and for still being contrary. 😉

    1. Thank you Denise hugs Like everything else in life, the last thing is the remembered thing so the lines did what I intended 🙂

    1. LOL Dave, in cyberspace a week or two is like five minutes so it seems like I went nowhere. Such is the illusion of time that we have enslaved ourselves to for so long. It’s good to see you come back to see me come back my dear good friend! 🙂

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