adult – Page 2 – three good words

June 9, 2015

there is light

the sword of a soothing look
cuts loose the meteor of affection

joy withers
in a moment of crisp
bright, brittle
understanding
frissoned with threads of doubt

of sight and senses
but the heart knows
what is meant
and will not concede to
willful self
deceit

three heartbeats worth of relief
hope restored
there is light
no comet flashing
stark against the void

but an ancient fire
kindled by the first of flames
alive, living
knowing, known.

March 15, 2015March 15, 2015

non, merci

subtle
the pressure works
like a boeing landing
closing in from all sides, invisible

that sense of
you should do something
be nice
give in
ah, the manipulation

but the mellowed drama is craftily sincere
played out in earnest
here i am, helpless
kind of
and i, me, the unworthy soul
am asking you
my queen
translate: you’re gorgeous, beautiful
see how i grovel before such majesty
to suffer my wounds
and heal me

always with that unspoken demand
to follow through
as if this were high romance
and ye the dying knight
carried back, a-wounded

only there are no wounds
no suffering beyond a pressing need
to do
well, yes
me
which is why i break the spell
with realism
and refuse

that’s barely a flesh wound
here’s a first aid kit
use it.

January 20, 2015January 21, 2015

wild at heart

plugs in, player on
here I am, hearing a song
that sounds innocent
but would be rated R
celebrating consumption
of substances that have
no legal function
as it so sleekly does

and yet it’s not the lyrics
not the text itself, not what is sung

but the beat
the bass,
the melody
that brings me back
way back

back to those days when
we used to party hard
dance and sweat and dance some more
lights flashing
beats pumping
amps crackling
volume sky high
you heard the beat with your body
and felt the music with your heart

…

there was nothing but the music
coz rhythm was a dancer
and you had to let the music
push the feeling on
and those were just the popular ones

but we went deep down
into the sheds, the areas, the hidden bunkers
where the world was dark and light
filled with sick beats
intercepted with unbelievable strains
of perfect melodies
oh that drive
that drive to celebrate life

that’s what it does
this song that’s great
and kind o’ just wrong
it takes me back to that time
when you and me and all the others
danced in the dark
until we had to stop
we were simply exhausted
and so walked out
mildly shocked
to see the sun was out
and those other people
were actually living their lives
being offensively boring adults.

A sigh and a smile to that freedom
I can’t even describe
the joy, the exuberance
of celebrating that one thing
that would never stay forever
loving every second under the sun
needing nothing more than great music
to love our young lives
we were so achingly wild at heart.

child dancing nezartdesingdottumblrdotcom

December 23, 2014

same ol’, same ol’

Every year
the drama begins
sitting around the table
eating drinking
making merry
singing carols and songs wassailing

And then it happens,
right among the joyous crowd
that one little word
that one precious tone
eyes wide, pursed lips
a silence full ‘Oh-oh’ and ‘Here we go’
Oh God did you have to start that now?’

And the mayhem begins
the rants, arguments
and loud angry shouts
Uncle George, please
Aunt Jemma, why? Granma!
and Tammy, hold your tongue
Lucas, stop egging him on
but Ian and Joyce pour more oil into the fire
Eddie and Sara smiling sadly, looking on,
it’s all so predictable like that 12 days song

That one little look
that one small word
a sigh, a warning
sent out with serious eyes
‘Please, have another drink’
‘No, that’s what started it!’
The wine, the grog
those glasses of homemade eggnog
all of them pistol-shots to
The He said She said Marathon:

‘I never said’, ‘You did say’
This, that and remember that day
two, three, ten years ago
‘When I was a kid’
and everyone groans,
sighs, heads shaking, while eyes are rolled

Every single year, back when we played in the snow,
Every single Christmas that comes and goes.

November 24, 2014

in love and war

I will not
I refuse
to sell my integrity
for mere minutes
of another’s pleasure

I will not
I refuse
to compromise that which is holy
that which is mine
yes, truly
so very Me,
Moi-même

I will not
I refuse
for I have rallied my troops
and put on my armour
all my colours rolled from the ramparts
my sword honed, my shield ready
lances raised high
all my banners flying.

For my soul is my life
and my life is my soul,
it is mine to know and honour
and hold in that respect
I know I own.

It is what I am and what I was,
it is all that I may be:
my intimate circle
my private round table,
my personal holy grail,

Me.