Said the hopeless cat to the moon,
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
"Take me to the grave of the night
for I shall not live."
It's unfathomable hunt
for the naked truth
a cutting-edge phase
of a more hollow chapter
...in that which is said, is often forgotten...
along the pallid beams of the moon, fresh tears drop
with a consoling song to immerse upon
she laid it's worn out self...
for what had been said, she'd never forgotten
it is locked...hidden within
waiting to be set forth
to the unjustifiable unknown
for the vast hollow to swallow it...
In the vortex of life,
after the winter,
there comes the spring
it sprang with hope;
glistening in utter lust...
she breathed in analytical tranquility...
restored and coated,
settled in grace ,
tossed yet surviving;
the fetish Cat sleeps in fur.
In the split second
she pursues the journey
to find the answer
staking her being
on the line
clothed in jubilance
mouthing in radiance
is now near-at-hand
she gingerly speaks
its purr, shudders the moon
take me to the grave of the night
play the canticle
take a chance
I'll take the final dance.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
If only I caught you
oh vivid rays of sunrise
then an unquestionably gladness
would dance upon my eyes
Within the wave of ballads
I'm hunting authenticity
I've learned: not all roses can sing
rather, some hum in perfect hypocrisy
The fractured path of yesterday
I wish I'd never been
the forlorn lane of faux promises
made me forget how happy I had been.
Some of them think religiously
the proper essence of self-worth
is the summation of their fabricated beauty
plus their unmerited towering net worth
Lucky are some roses on natural soil
no toxin has poison their minds
unlike some that are watered by money
fanatics of lies...color-blind.
Some roses are not roses in winter
only a camouflage of soiled beauty
a plague killing high hopes
a friendship of treachery
If only I'd caught you earlier
oh glossy rays of sunrise
then surely no pieces of broken trustwould reflect upon my eyes.