OH THAT NEON NIGHT--a sorrowful soliloque by ~free

the night closed when the cafe did
with all the secrets the barmaid hid
there was the whisper of a woman's woe
and me, a junkie with no place to go

two souls shunning he same shadow
one mystery hidden in the mist and midst of misery
two who sat upon opposite stools toasting the sunshine
while fearing the moon
an orb with the ferocity of fangs that grow fearsome as they devour the noon
and regret is urged all too soon.......
the neon wept for two souls lost
upon whose hearts wsa embossed an emblem of empathy
and sorrow summoned by sympathy
until one weakens from weariness
and following errant rainbows
while wishing on a star too long dead
a shine and shrine shrouded shamelessly in dread
as the soul of sublimation summarily bled
when time sped by with seconds spent in seclusion
and consternation a constant conclusion
while hours harbored in the hollow halls of hopelessness
wherein horror speaks of its own adulation
and betrayal is betrothed to beauty

she spilled some beer as I drew near
as fear festered within my stare of stagnation
and her self-righteous indignation
she was the she i feared she would be
and I, alas, was only me
no match for such beauty, guile and glee
since i was only being me

the barkeep was taken aback by her sea-green eyes
as I was forsaken by starshine bleeding from the abdomen
and a miserly moon which made madness seem minus its usual impact
from her eyes....
wih a luminescent shade of green seldom seen in the seediness of a small cafe
a cafe that gave way to neediness neglected
and desire lost a battle that led to victimization rejected
after laughter , libationn and languid conversation
small talk that seemed rather big in a small cafe
and incinerated an over rated fact that would otherwise force me to my kinetic knees beside a bar

a woman whom i would......
with blessed determination and clenched teeth , try to keep afar
in a seedy bar
a lady like her who lingers in a landscape of roses and retribution
and athough i was simply me
me knew to flee

the neon closed its eyes that night
as i went left and she went right
fortune's face was then revealed
when i avidly avoided what a woman of woe could yield
(c) 2011...~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
I HOPE PANAMA PETE AT 48th STREET AND BROADWAY IS STILL POURING SCREWDRIVERS FOR SOMEONE LIKE ME ORDERED TO ABANDON MANHATTAN, A CITY
THAT STILL FLOWS THROUGH MY VEINS

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