Questioning the Caterpillar

As he spoke

she watched his mouth move

looked at those eyes

thinking to herself

WHO are YOU ?

Not like, who do you think you are

though that certainly

would have been appropriate

But no, this was much deeper

like someone had stepped

into his body and taken over

She missed a good portion of

what he was saying

because her mind kept sensing

the incongruity of the image

standing in front of her

and the stranger  that seemed

to subliminally present itself

She kept having the feeling

that introductions should be made

then the question would vanish

from her thoughts

allowing her to

pay more attention

to his words

After it was over

she couldn’t remember much

just the sound of an angry voice

mixed with her own sadness

that a choice had been made

and still, that question

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REAL LIFE,  is now t.v. drama

it’s participants merely

acting out some pathetic part

They should be paid millions

Certainly the skills are much better

than those of trained actors

There are the ones who pretend

to care, as they manipulate

their so-called friends, parents,

husbands, wives, or partners

Some are experts at rationalizing

while others constantly pat themselves

on the back, as they puff their heads up

Then there are those who instead

of trashing the poor acting job

they have been doing, decide

they’ll play a new part

one of power and control

So, they begin to beat a poor soul

with a bat, in the dark of night

or steal a young child

sleeping in his crib

or kidnap and rape a teenager

as she walks home from

her school bus stop

or stab and rob someone

for money, for their drug habit

or shoot to kill any random being

that lines up in the rifle scope

So, who needs reality shows on t.v.

They are just child’s play

If you really want some drama

in your day, turn off the t.v.

and look around you

REAL LIFE is coming soon

to a theater called YOU

Storm

And so the war begins

between once-dreamed, warm ideals

and today’s cold, harsh reality

creating a massive front

A dark storm cloud

begins to drop its contents

into a heart

A stinging hellstorm

loud, relentless,

icy, destructive, and as

the turmoil draws down

all that remains

is the space between

 

 

Shut-eye(s)

How long is too long

to wait while one is sleeping

Though the choice be yours

to wake to the truth or not

I would love to see your eyes

It Won’t Come Out In The Wash

You choose to stand there

in between the hands of love

and I don’t know why

it only makes yours filthy

with the blood you’ve spilled on them

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Plea

I cannot save you

but please, do it yourself

I can only love you

so please let me

I chose this, above all else

so please, let me keep my promise

I cannot save you

but please, please, save yourself

Clumsy Hope

everyone can fall

when tripping over life’s bumps

but if we’re not dead

bouncing up is more fun than

slipping into a dark hole