In a gold miner’s camp shiny pyrite
Showing a metallic excellence
Prettier than the real thing
Oohs and ahhs are all around
Pyrite shared happily
Revealed at last
Losing her lore
Fakery
Untrue
Gold
Lone
Pyrite
Angel’s rock
Optimism
Exuding with hope
Has her own properties
Miner’s camp comes back to life
A gorgeous stone is this pyrite?
Appreciated for herself now
Compared to no other rock or metal
Pirates came and stole me away
They thought I was valuable, real gold.
I liked their ship, the swing and sway.
Fooling pirates never gets boring or old.
Captain came and gave a loud angry bray.
You morons, this is pyrite, fools’ gold!
They dumped me overboard that very day
I became a happy locket for a pretty mermaid bold.
A million battered steps.
Smiles rimmed with fire and pyrite.
Ninety proof clarity in the foothills of blissfulness.
Clouded mountains topped with defeats.
It's all in the script and the author is me.
Nearing the finish, there it sits.
The greatest wall- icy indifference.
What lies on the other side of this life?
That same pyrite and fiery sea.
it's all in the script and the author is me.
Like nuggets of gold,
Pyrite’s shiny mask glows bright;
Plays humans for fools.
what truth falls from these lips is gold,
and the truth is that I am pyrite,
and the lies are the aureate smiles
that beam sunshine to start your day
but in reality mark the end in glittering, golden twilight.
a travesty of the honesty,
$8 at the gift store,
praying you think you see
the sheen that befits a majesty,
and forget that lesson in science class
that labeled me as...
doppelganger,
wannabe,
imposter,
gold as much as quartz are diamonds...
but after the purchase, who cares?
Marvel at me and later recall
that you chose Fool's Gold
and thus you are a fool,
and thus I belong to you.
*I'm not sure about the rest of the poem starting from the second stanza. Does it fit? Does it feel right? Comment your feedback. Note that this comment will be taken down after a period of time.
80's oldsmobile wagon full of mormons
traveling at five under the speed limit.
a turtlenecked jesus behind the wheel
draws magnetically all pyrite from the
rural hills of zion utah.
gold so much glorious gold
and you can have it to.
just turn your tv dial to the trinity
broadcasting network,
set some plastic fruit out on your
coffee table as an offering
and send your prayer request
in to Plano Texas.
It's all so wondrous, so
effervescent and fleeting, the banner
flown half mast, raised at half pride; the
Ante made
three times. Scorned; red
tide.
Hearts and diamonds- the effeminate: negotiate with
diamonds to ensnare the heart; hark.
the spade, the
club.
Shovel and blunt instrument, masculine and
black as the night sky.
Pens and swords waging war in perpetual bliss.
Kings and queens, jacks and
diminutive fiends, marching towards the
joke that only Darwin knows is funny.
Those silk sheets look faux behind blurred vision
and golden lamps just somehow seem to fade,
while chandelier like an ice incision,
cut through to the truth that you had betrayed.
All of the dreams my thoughts had envisioned,
lay like victims of terrorist grenade,
and no matter what bandage wraps these tears
the cutting of your words still burns and sears.
For all of the glory found in this room,
from deepest carpet to the softest quilt
are nothing but props, a gilded costume,
that in my sorrow do nothing but wilt,
for what is a bride when there is no groom,
just a dressed up doll without any gilt.
This suite may as well be a box of card,
when all that we meant is totally charred.