Lento is the rhythm our hearts once beat.
Mementos we idealized from the past.
Tempos orchestrate our crushing defeat
Crescendos into what could never last.
Of course, we loved the blessed symphony
Endorsed sacred songs mutually shared.
Divorce brought along its cacophony
Forced a melody of chaos unrepaired.
Judges and lawyers pulling wicked strings
Trudges to the beat of our tragic age.
Grudges hammering the half-notes that sting
Besmudges our reputations with rage.
We shall forever cherish the sweet lento.
The easy swing of love so compliant.
Sheet music must come to an end though.
Be in separate beds lone and silent.
When everything to bits is blown and all
remained of us are brainless bits of bone,
I wonder who will see our species fall,
all snapping selfies on our Android phones.
He’ll have to be E.T., most certainly,
to have survived a fool’s apocalypse.
And if I’m right, he’ll use telepathy
instead of flapping gums and smacking lips
to share with folks back home our final tale:
The town will gather ‘round our foreign friend,
his star-boiled gils resembling flaky shale,
and all will think as one, until the end,
and then together shake their slimy heads,
distraught to learn our parents slept in separate beds.
*Proudly written on my phone
while waiting at TGIF for a haircut :)
My girl she can keep very still,
it's no major act of will,
and can hold a stare without her eyelids dropping,
with her arms held out and bent
you can't tell that her intent
is to quickly swipe my wallet and go shopping.
She hides her feelings to me
and I'm feelin' kinda gloomy
since I've only found out where it could have led,
she eats her partner after mating,
which is why I'm stopping dating,
until then we're gonna sleep in separate beds.
For contest 'Praying Mantis', sponsor Anthony Slausen
August 17th 2016
Shall we go somewhere,
will we meet somewhere?
Am I the one you saw,
is this the face you showed?
I'm wishing this was nowhere,
just like you're searching elsewhere.
While the hills sang the rain song
I built a home in my heart
And when the river rang its laughter
You wrote your masterpiece...
Our minds soared into the depths
Of a sky that wielded dark secrets
Of power over one another-
Of beauteous collapses of identities,
Of never weary desires.
Why didn't the frost dampen your words
And why was my sewing filled with flowery fragrance?
Why did our separate beds make so much warmth
And our silence such joyous chatter?
When you were asleep, I kissed your toes
Woke you up to your coffee,
Paid to our pension plan
And worried over your corns...
But there's a hollow in my stomach
My day's work does not fill it
Nor my night, busy with dreams.
There's a hole in my soul-
Your wordy yarns don't patch it
My perfect stitches cannot darn it...
Shall we go somewhere
Will we meet somewhere
Am I the one you saw
Is this the face you showed
I'm wishing this was nowhere
Just like you are searching elsewhere!
Sweet dreams and I love you
It starts so simple and pure
and then before you know it,
you're in a full fledged war
Honey you're on my side
Could you scootch over just a little?
Well sweetie-pie I tried,
but you're laying in the middle
Please don't wake me if I mumble
I was asleep for goodness sake
If I wanted a real conversation
I would have stayed awake
Now you're starting to snore
You've stolen all my cover
I can't take this anymore
You, with my pillow, I'll smother
Now that I finally drifted asleep
Rudely, I've been awakened
Was that kick an accident,
or were you really fakin'?
I'm tired of not getting sleep
I fear danger in the future looms
Because I'm past wanting separate beds,
I want separate rooms!
The sum of what has gone before
Bulldozed throughout a slumlord block,
Evacuated, emptied souls,
Gutted, barrel, lock and stock.
Then ring-fenced in a shield of steel,
Buried in a foreign field,
Protected from the agony,
The savage reap of winter yield.
We ran, in fear, poles apart,
Retreated, hid in separate beds;
Solitaire and servitude
Beneath the sheets with buried heads.
Moving on meant standing still
Whilst superficial love and care
Clipped the tickets torn in two,
No transit takes us anywhere.
The sum of what has gone before
Burgeoned with a black campaign,
Left only sole surviving prayers
That one day we may love again.
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