If you said
You liked me
I would question
Your judgment
And
If you ignored me
I would
Promptly
Ring your door bell
So
For us to be
Together
You would be
On your way somewhere
And I would be returning
From somewhere
And
We would share a train car.
To write of white horses of the sea
An image came to mind as a film
With the thunder of hooves crashing
Brings forth salt rushing
Water circling
Around my ankles
Great Horses lunging
Gleaming coats frothing
From cool waters
Running
They prance over
Rocks
Snorting
I watch their
Dance
laying back
Resting on
Elbows
I allow them
Closer
They retreat
Then closer
Pushing sand
Over my feet
These horses
Dappled in
Greens and whites
Polished malachite
Force words and
Renderings from
Hands
A light hand does
Hold
These explosive
Whites
And with grace
They do bow
And arch their necks
And with light feet
They stretch skyward
Pairing with clouds
In sky
Seductive spirits
bottled potions for
Love
Hate
Pain
Bottled poison
For some
Soon forgotten
Words
Deeds
No arguing
The warmth
The amber or
Clear
Brings
Set the bottle down
A moment without peace
Is a moment turned
When what not forgotten
Delivers strength
This is a free fall
Free style
Down in flames
Maybe
Crash and burn
Burning up
Fire of love
Maybe
Who knows
For certain
The truth of it?
Who knows
For certain
If the parachute will
Open?
Will I land hard
Or land softly
On his bed?
Will he join me in my
Fall?
Will we share the fear
Excitement
Of the near death experience
of almost broken
Hearts?
It is certain
That I am falling
For him
To Generalize
Is not to sympathise
To Generalize
Is to Believe what you read
Not what you see
I am tired of what is
Acceptable to the masses
I am tired of being told
What not to say
I am tired of those with
Good intentions trying to
Edit what I say
Missouri is a beautiful place
Home of Mark Twain
Home of universities
I visited in my teens
Farmers markets with fresh produce
Horse shows with gallant riders
Livestock, prime quality
To generalize about anything
Is like wearin blinders
Willingly
Willingly being walked down
A Path
Of dissapointment
Not heard from Becca.
Where is Becca?
Thinking of you Becca..............
Don't be a stranger
But I like strangers
The stranger the better
Stay in touch
Touch me in
Touch me out
Side
Need not stay away
Need you to stay
Stay here
Stay there
Wherever I can find
You
This one is for
You
You now
You then
Or soon to know
Better
to leave the past behind
As if it was an old suitcase
or momento
But does one leave one's education behind?
Does one not show off degrees and diplomas
On the Wall?
does one not state past achievements
On new resumes?
Are we to cut out the bad from our past
And only publish our honors and blue
Ribbons?
I should not like to meet one with only
Blue ribbons
I should not want to meet one ashamed
Of the past
I would be suspicious of only glory
And gold, with flesh un scarred
I was told to leave the past behind
I think I will keep the good and the bad
For richer or poorer
til death do us part.
He was of sound
I was of sight
and together, sight and sound
Colored our landscape
It was our first date
He a shy, handsome, thing of
All things made from abuse
I, a tough piece of rawhide
we walked the streets of L.A.
I remember watching my surroundings
How we were the objects of much
staring
As if the prey of a bigger beast
But, me, with my own pair of eyes, and
A convincing manner, we were untouched
I believe we are all either predator or prey
And, as i face these facts, my gentle musician
Was my prey
But I was his victim in the end
I was left in the end
Without him
Today I was told that my latest writing was different from earlier works.
Well it is true that i am happier now. I am not frustrated by opression, just a shitty job.
I have not been getting messed up with the alcohol so much and i do not pine for the unobtainable.
so I ask you this,
should I go back to my old ways to spin the gold?
And I wanted to ask if he wore a codpiece.
Have you any questions or comments?
diamondwillows Blog (114)