Coming up short
A penny dreadful second chance
mixed with a dollar store romance…
Why do you think that friction
will improve your fiction
when it’s too shallow to enhance.
A penny dreadful second chance
mixed with a dollar store romance…
Why do you think that friction
will improve your fiction
when it’s too shallow to enhance.
Oh, how I watch you with pride,
my once-blushing bride.
In the years I’ve been gone
while you fought to stay strong,
I never left your side.
I have a world inside of me,
a place which no one else can see
but if you wish to seek the truth,
to part my veils and find the proof…
Not all you’ll find is pretty.
Siren, sing me a song,
make me feel I belong
in thrall of your charms,
within reach of your arms -
what could go wrong?
- - inspired by @kseniaanske’s upcoming book
Penny thoughts aren’t worth a dime
but people like to take the time
to put pen to page
and turn vulgar into sage
with prose, poetry, and rhyme.
Smoke signal in the sky
but is it a lie, but is it a lie?
A vaporous tell
of things great and fell
but is it a lie, but is it a lie…
I do not need a lecture
of your holier-than-thou conjecture.
I know you’re well-meaning
but I find it unseeming -
yours is not my scripture.
Baby, I’m still missing you,
wishing I was kissing you
but you drove away
one dark and lonely day;
that’s what I get for pissing you - off.
Bright as gold
but twice as cold…
She’s a pretty face
and youthful grace
but her soul is old.
The rings of fire
burned ever higher
in the oh-so quiet cell
of my own private hell,
the burden of a Liar.
The rain bettered down
upon the weary, beaten town
but I persevered
whenever she appeared
with a sun shining behind her crown.
A flower born to Winter’s chill
yet it was possessed of such a will
that the frost’s bite held no sway
over the flower which bloomed today
and each year it grows greater still.
Sing for me once more
upon the broken shore
of better times and happy days
when life was fun and games and play
before life’s cruel and endless chores.
The stoic’s face severe
as he turned a callous and deaf ear
upon the vulgar thralls
in their salacious free-for-all
who shared none of his fear.
I’m thankful for the courtesy,
the kindness that you show to me
which serves as sweet salvation
in moments of desperation
to bring me back to harmony.
