The fake postman under the spell of your sob story
had dropped the forty-ninth letter in nine months
Envelope stained with cerise lipstick, perfumed with promises,
sealed with the saintliest of tears.
Your best ammunition had met my firewall
Shrapnels dropped like snowballs at my feet
You knew I still missed you to the bone
Turning to meet you I see the circle
I cringe like a mouse that recognized the trap
written, "We can still build our future together again"
My tenderized heart gathering its hewn
stones thrown far apart when you showed me my old aftershave
telling how you smell it to
sleep for five years
I fought tears refusing to water the old garden
of our broken love.
I can not return, Never!
Hell is heaven when it cries for lost prey
I had smelt the quicksand beneath your rosy bed
"Forgive me" I spat
Feeling for my tourniquet dripping fast
"I choose to be doomed with my decision.
I have moved on."
Categories:
saintliest, confusion, longing, lost love,
Form: Free verse
Nefarious Spirit
The Human Creature is not exempt
As the nefarious spirit lives within.
Even the saintliest of us all have
A touch of the nefarious within.
My secret is that I am with you always—
When you’re awake, asleep, and dreaming.
I am your alter ego at times and even
That dark shadow in the room beyond.
When you gaze into your morning mirror—
I am there too as only a faintly bare existence.
Don’t look too hard and too deeply into the mirror—
For I shall disappoint, become invisible, and disappear.
In your evil-thinking moments of anger and rage,
I shall hunt others for you at your behest and desire.
But I shall haunt you and surely play on your emotions,
If you’re wrong about the others, no matter who they be.
Being an uncanny spirit of action, sorrow, and chaos
I can act on a moment’s notice and bring pain to bear.
I live in the deepest, darkest chasm of your inner psyche,
Be sure to use me wisely—whilst showing all due care!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
March 8, 2018 (Couplet)
Categories:
saintliest, dark, emotions, evil, feelings,
Form: Couplet
I find poetry in the most absurd of ideals and euphemisms, but there are ideas that elude me
The fact of the existence of narcissistic assholes who believe themselves immune in statement
The fact of the existence of evil that goes unpunished when the stick is easily available
The fact of the existence of the most corrupt beings acclaimed as the saintliest ones
The fact of the existence of those who believe in science, but denounce observation
The fact of the existence of hypocrites that can never look in a mirror, lest they be burned
The fact of the existence of those who try to come together to get away from each other
The fact of the existence of disrespect among the privileged to a more privileged
The fact of the existence of stalwart defenders that are in truth attackers and offensive
The fact of the existence of those who will defend these people to seem superiors
but the most eluding fact is a statement made among one who lives among these existences
“Just Live with It”
But I will not
Categories:
saintliest, corruption, freedom, french, humanity,
Form: Free verse