Skip to main content

unbefitting


were you really waiting for your puppet
to stop pulling the strings down and trying to run away?
after she failed to provide entertainment
to your kindergarten politicians
and devoted court of used puppets?
she kept her skirt on and her hair intact
she watched you tending your collections of
live butterflies
pinned through to the display boards
live flies threaded through their bellies
flying on yard long leashes
fireflies, unharmed but in jars
snails in solitary bottle confinements
random body parts trapped in random memory cells
days of your life erased for not complying
voices silenced for knowing your heart
hopes strangled for unbefitting visions
and still no idea what to do
with that dress on strings and
how did this puppet leave
and why
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

long stormy night

 one mississippi ...a bitter star is falling down... two mississippi ...I argued with the devil and i won... three mississippi ...and when trees don't anymore let the violins speak to me... kaboom! familiarity with falsehood is not a stairway to heaven your head may look as fine as gold but your feet are made of clay nothing but dust under the power of the Rock that fills the earth how will you not fall? you are but a murder of crows meticulously glued into a grandiose idol by the promise of fame within the will-less bundles of muscles in the network of shame blinded by the unpromised luxury heights inflamed by the gluey years of resentment of rejected lovers beggars of love, however misunderstood and their idols of age defiance and lust downgraded by the glowing rectangles with their images of envy betrayed by the happily hand-clapping crowds of fake jesuses and fake madonnas by neurotic parents of monkeys evolving into crafty profit maker...
Read more

iron-y

why burn the bridge? so that no wounded birds could live under it to keep their wounds alive your irony is like sulfur “no” is a burning word takes the iron rod giver to say it right they undo every right and fight for every wrong like that recalled letter of apology drop-dead bird mockingly unsent ungone, unknowing of its power ironic like dried sunflower on a blue chalkboard the art of death reigns in their hearts there is only defiance of dessicated flowers  between acknowledgment of rain  given in the right season and the first hydrating sip of life as it were to be fractions matter, splits of seconds are life ages of stubborn magma buildup can crumble in a blink of an eye, when you see how many grand personas brake down between saying thank you and being grateful always
Read more

don't pray for me

when the thieves pray for more loot, who can hear them? in heaven or in hell? let the wind know, let the wind know if you forget your name the wind will still blow your thoughts away when the whores pray for more wages, who can hear them? whose job is it to care? in heaven or in hell? let the clouds know, let the clouds know if you forget your name the rain will wet your hair anyway please, love me not the teddy bears and dolls are all asleep now this factory of dreams is a delusion there is no path through the house of terrors the neon signs were all lying tell me what pay is worth playing a nameless agent a role with so many angry lines in a play called "I wish I were rich" befriended and adored only by the three-headed snake of familiar spirit? [weeping is heard in the clouds but the streets are dry] please, love me not when the hands tired of work and hearts hardened by adversity rise in thanksgiving prayer why is the snake still speak...
Read more