Sphinx
this ugly, amorphous monster is
stalking me again
loathsome, foul blackened heart
half-eaten by vicious, resentful loathing
it feeds on me, tears me,
rips into my viscera,
fanged words perverse and savage
scalding my insides,
scouring me –
not clean, but raw and used,
the filthy residue left by its path
clinging to my insides,
making me cough, choke
trying to vomit out this clot
I am haunted by this cursed abomination,
my bête noire
that stalks me like a snarling dog,
mouth dripping with rage and rabid with fear
that seeks to blot me out, eradicate me,
efface me until I am become the
Sphinx, worn away by time and stinging sand
Eating Badly with diabetes is a Suicide Mission.
I know, because Artur Anczarski, says so.
He is the Prophet, he is the Saint,
And nothing he says, is ever quaint
(it simply ain’t)
As for exercise and diet, ‘you don’t do either!’
(which is not – anymore – entirely true, but it WAS, once)
Explode my mind with FRAGILE DELICACY, why don’t you, brother?
(If he hadn’t, I never would have moved, he doesn’t sugarcoat the cake, he throws it out
And gives me meat, instead)
What is sweet in the mouth, is bitter in the belly (a big one).
Eating badly. Never worth it.
"Self Abuse"
Imagining how my own hand would taste
I want to punch my own face, is that such a disgrace?
I bet no one would ever know
It is I that throws the blows
Could I knock myself out?
Or should i just hit my own mouth?
Maybe Ill black my left eye
Ill use the right one to cry
just how long will it take
once I am out to awake?
This way I will recieve love and sympanthy
And lots of company who pities me
Come on its time for the show
Today I will start by busting my nose!
I am standing for the woman that is too weak to stand,
A string of abuse she has suffered all her life long.
She believes she is on her own no one to support her
So I will be her strength and support, her verbal backbone.
Let me then tell you Mr. Abuser, I will not stand aside,
While you tear down the walls of the weak and feeble.
In your face I’ll stand, with my shoulders squared fast,
Been there, stepped up, overcame, so that is my armor.
Now that’s not where I’ll leave it, more needs to be done
For the woman that is weak and feeble in self esteem.
A rescue is not the wherewithal, there has to be a goal
For her to strive unto, on the road she'll walk to being whole.
Encourage her to use her past of pain, to build
A better self for her future and make her fears
Be the rock on which she stands, to reach higher
Above the murk of abuse and self-mutilation.
For Debbie's contest: Stand
Verse 1:
I truly want you to hear me
you're busy with cement's precast
I stay in limbo twisting in the pre
in intransit mixers turning fast
Must it all be preparation?
Coach when can I play in the game?
waiting kills dream's consecration
and Im losing interest in the aim
Chorus:
So self abuse increases again
cant get passed the pain of the rush
no whys misinterprets the when
making error to blame for it's crush
Verse 2:
I push all my chips to the middle
I lose myself in hope as you deal
what to do the unanswered riddle
guessing ingrediants smelling the meal
Oh the torture of what little I know
its the strings of my guitars
I pick the tunes of suffering's flow
I sing night's dark seen by the stars
Chorus:
So self abuse increases again
can't get passed the pain of the rush
no why's misinterprets the when
making error to blame for it's crush
Reprise:
Your silence tells me not to do this
can't let go of what I could miss
torture through desire for bliss
brought to disease led by the kiss
I learned Im small, less than a pawn
my heart dies and they just yawn
while its only a draft drawn
its dusk brought by the dawn
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