it was bound to happen
when we met
and the light in your eyes
lit like a brand new spot
in the showcase of a diamond store
and for years it shone
and we were so
ha ha ha
happy
until the day i cheated
and you found out
and then i watched with regret
as that light in your eyes
dimmed and then
pt pt pt
sputtered out
poem
schizophrenia
once you were here,
now you’re gone
i hope you’re able to remember
what it was like
to live
and i sincerely hope
you’re more at peace
since you left.
draw
life is a game of scrabble
and i’m missing some vowels
if I had them, perhaps i
would know what to do
i have an l and a v
an n and a g
if i had an e and an a
i’d be leavng you
if i had an o and an i
i’d be loving you
shuffle the tiles my dear
and dip into the bag
our fate
is in your hand
you
it isn’t just this and it isn’t you
you with your fair hair and your
sweet candy smile
and your way of moving oh so slowly
when i want you to hurry up
no, it’s me too
because i can’t stand that you’re
too perfect
too simply kind
to want someone like me
i’m base and horrid sometimes
you know?
or perhaps you’re innocent
where my faults lie
you’re not quick enough to see
so you’ll not really understand
why i’m leaving you and going
to places you can’t go nor would you want to
tread upon the type of dirt that
stirs up my brand of dusty irritant
i’ll miss you though but not as much
as you’ll surely miss me because
light is drawn to darkness more than
the other way around
goodbye
don’t
don’t you have days
when you just wanna say fuck it
or whatever your personal equivalent
of that is?
don’t you sit down of an evening
and stare at the wall
or the tv, or whatever is right in front
of you?
don’t you have mornings
when even coffee can’t get you going
or allow you to smile at the stuff
you’re supposed to?
don’t you hate people
who are cheerful no matter what?
don’t you think that maybe they’re just lying
through their sickeningly happy teeth?
don’t you just…
oh fuck it.
#SoCS – Isn’t
Mustn’t you leave,
Just get out
to arrive somewhere else
a place where you’re wanted
The rattling cages
must be driving you mad
and the animals speak now
they whisper, escape
I’m the voice in your head, dear
Don’t try to resist
for the more you agree
The sooner you’ll return
And you’d like that
Wouldn’t you?
Mais oui
…
zzz Me? It wasn’t
This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the link and join in today! http://lindaghill.com/2016/02/19/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-2016/
unvalentine’s day
…and now it’s time
to switch off my lamp
i’ve closed my book
and slipped on my pjs
with my glass of water
and my pills
on my bedside table
i ate too much
for comfort’s sake
the ice cream
and cake
and all the other stuff
i don’t want to think of
because i loved myself
because i ain’t got no one
to cuddle with
except my teddy bear
on this cold february night
nor all day
just me
and my comfort food
and my book
and now my pjs and water and pills
and i switch off my lamp
it’s time…
…to sleep…
…until february…
fifteen…th
mirage
this world is a whitewashed place
with no corners, no curves
just endless void of colour
for time unsummed
but then
a glimmer,
is that a spot of darkness?
a punctuation upon the snowbound plain?
a figure…
no
it’s only
the hope to which I cling
a mirage that tells me eternally
don’t give up
Aloha Grace
Aloha Grace envisioned a place
with palm trees and white sandy beaches
In her room was a poster; she sat and imagined
the sea and the man she would meet there
For Aloha Grace lived in the arctic,
where the sun shone an hour a day
From this frozen tundra she needed escape
the moment she came of an age
Aloha Grace stepped off of the plane
and she breathed in the smell of the ocean
A half hour later her toes in the sand,
in the shade of a palm tree she stood
Then Aloha Grace, with the sun in her face
met the man she was destined to fall for
But a one-night stand left her colder than ice
and she realised the beach and the palm trees had lied
Aloha Grace went home in disgrace
pregnant and husbandless too
Down came the poster and down went the sun
for the grass is no greener than snow.
fingers – #SoCS
each morning at seven
she enters my store
and I watch as she
fingers the cherries
with her long blood-red nails
and her lips glistening the colour of wine
and her miles of stockinged legs
in scarlet stilettos
and I swear to myself
that one day I will
step up like a man
like the man that I am
and tell her
…
I love her
…
and I’ll love her even more
if
she’ll stop playing with my cherries
and play with my grapes
instead.
Stream of Consciousness Saturday – find it here.
Linda G. Hill 