A Story


Tell me a story
so I can let you live
Live with the memories
of everything we did together
and the benefits of being apart
Tell me a story
because I seem to do all the talking
all the doing
all the coaching and prepping
for you to tell me
something
What if, You were wrong
in the way you thought
I was alive?
Burnt out, spent
Still, I did more to remember you
more
Still is how I felt after
realizing you could have actually
been there
If you are speaking,
push the others aside
so I can follow
There is a light somewhere
but I can only see it
when I close my eyes
Please, tell me a story

The Shadow Knows


Though voiceless,
its outline screams at me
As if with a lowered head,
the sense of sorrow overwhelms me
Why should this being keep company
with a spry teller of make-believe?
A honed talent caused the weeping and
the grinners to seek my blessing
After words, their lives were changed
If only for a moment
But why is truth a necessity 
when peace and harmony calls?
It creeps towards me
and my name melts 
with whatever mortal sin I committed
it reminds me of a childhood friend
who would smile when I was chastised
for being myself
imagining better, softer times
in a welcoming world of bliss
Who will tell my stories when I can’t?
The price we pay for companionship
often comes with a penalty
For maybe the debt was paid too soon

I love you, because you’re an alcoholic (2)


She knew all of them.  He knew hers.  The knowing of why he got married never behooved mom.  For goodness sakes, she had grandchildren.  Not the first of grandchildren, but no less, he produced.  Just like she did.  Who cares if it was the church who pretty much forced her and her husband together.  The church felt it would be best that they stayed together, despite what it knew.  Maybe, it was their idea of ‘conversion therapy.’  Little did he know, that nickname her son acquired in college, Lou, which stood for “Loser,” would come back to haunt him.  Many, many times.
     As the drinking got heavier and heavier, the dementia and anger grew more fiercely.  His mom would throw physical tantrums at her best friend.  Never once did she assault her husband.  The police were called to carry her away each time.  Still, her was constantly reminded of his failed attempts at life, at living.  But, as her determined hate professed, so did her son’s.  When she hit, he hit back.  Once it was all over, no one remembered a thing.  Except for the apparent bruises and scratches and scrapes.  This obviously made him an even bigger loser.  Yet, through it all, her detached god-fearing husband could be found barricaded in his room all nestled on the tiny sleeper sofa that fit kindly into the short bedroom he called his own.  Mom finally broke the camel’s back when she was caught driving under the influence after leaving her younger daughter’s home.  Guess who came to her rescue?
     It wasn’t too long after her release, the authorities were called to their home again.  This time, it would be her last stay at the home she let the tormented spirits fester.  Walking into the front door, one might ask why the walls were so dark and that there were no window coverings.  I knew.  Along with all the crosses on the tables and walls, the Jesus pictures hung so strategically, cut-outs of biblical sayings posted about on refrigerator and bedroom doors…there was trouble there that had no plans of fleeing anytime soon.  Even after she left, the dad still slept with his light on.
     There were those times when my partner would attempt his own hand at withdrawal.  One particular event had his younger sister witness him having a seizure in the aisle of a Hobby Lobby.  It would be her only time doing this.  Her own bouts of repression and drinking would make her more numb to the fact that, all awhile she was left with Sybil, her brother and eldest sister abandoned her and the youngest brother for college.  Was her about to leave again, under different circumstances?  She wanted to be a part of his life without the future hands-on experience.  All the while, little sis knew that mom and dad were enabling her brother’s non-sobriety.
     Her sought help at every turn.  Sadly, when he felt the need to return to the emergency room, his family members were too busy to go in and sit with him.  They would just pull up to the front door and tell him to call them when he was ready to come home.  Where was the love?  He recalled the time that was most traumatic to him when he was escorted to a mental ward.  He didn’t know why he was there.  He wanted help because of his drinking issue.  That was all.  Somehow, he talked his way free and walked the seven miles back home in the dead of winter.  Putting his life in further jeopardy, he accepted a ride from a group of college kids who felt he garnered a lift.  Everything’s a blur, after that.  They all wanted to know how he made it back to the house…without calling either of them.

Like Somebody Other Than Myself


Six pills left

Until I see him next

I wish I didn’t have to

I hope I get lost this time

 

Standing there

Before the crowd

It’s just me

But there’s somebody else

 they wish to see

 

Will I say the right thing

Will I talk like I can sing

Will my hands and legs move and grove

So they can’t tell I can soothe

 

But I can’t do anymore

Than my body is alive for

I can’t be anything or anybody else

Like somebody other than myself

 

Playing this game

Just a symptom before a name

How do I let my real feelings show

Keep ‘em guessing or throw a blow

 

Seeking my end result

Though speaking to the leader of a cult

No generic for me

Need a taste of false reality

 

And when I go to cash them in

Shopping spree I’m ready to spend

A mental life lets it begin

Soon the bank will be my best friend

 

 

Your Husband Doesn’t Have To Know


Holding hands

And walking through the park

Each other’s greatest fan

See the back door after dark

 

A careful ring

With a special tone

Oh, how you make my heart sing

Why must either one of us be alone

 

I know he got you

But he doesn’t make your love flow

Believe me when I say this much is true

Your husband doesn’t have to know

 

The way you slip in and out

Of the things you bought with his card

Make me love what this is all about

Can it get any more hard

 

Break my back

Make me lose my mind

Never treat you like some halftime snack

The deeper I go, I never know what I’ll find

 

Keep it tight, and keep it right

I can taste the flavor in the air

Don’t let your head put up a fight

I’ll cherish our time with tender loving care

 

I love to love you, baby

How else can I let my feelings show

I’ll keep it on the sneak tip, if you want me to

And darling, your husband doesn’t have to know

 

And if you have any doubt

Go ahead and tell him I’m just a friend

He’s the one with all the clout

But we know how this tale will end

Open for Pain


Greasy your hands

Impatient are your glands

Potions corruptedly mixed

Smoldering shooting star nixed

Forgiveness nowhere in sight

Forbidden pleasures torturous fight

With x-ray vision

Only glancing no longer the mission

With every bend

Oblivious to how you offend

Take care and yet beware

Of every silent hyena’s stare

Sugar is gold becoming honey

Sap spread and the shot is money

Underneath your clothes

Bears an unopened rose

The bees will not sting

Until the joy you bring

And like a happy bird

You sing the way they all once heard

What a blow to the ego

When you are a no-show

But with each attempt

More coins are pimped

But when you pimp the limp

Who then becomes the wimp?

The Queen who rules the 24 hours

Even headless you have the powers

And though you give face

This is but a taste

Of the pleasures

And treasures

That satisfy the measures

Upon salacious pressures

Where are they

When you want to play

Or have one stay

Until the end of May

Cause that’s when all springs

Turn to hay

And the day

Will come

When the mighty sum

Gives you the thumb

Chasing you from the beat

And off the heat

Before you are covered with the sheet

That turns the biggest trick

Of no longer keeping you sick

Cause that’s when all springs

Turn to hay

Blessing you with all pain brings

Every time your smarts you lay

Awakening

Forsaking

Shaking while

Making it just for the taking

Take care and beware

Of every Greek hyenas lair

Before you chase your hair

Away from all that is fair

Cause that’s when all springs

Turn to hay

Beating at your door with pain it brings

Will your voice pray

Before or after the dues they pay?

Is not a Muppet

A puppet?

No matter how you tuck it

Someone’s hand has to stuff it

Unclean hands

Spoil the glands

Enraging fans

In the stands

Be it woman or man

So can you take a stand

And be diamond grand?

Cut, color, carat

How long can you grin and bare it?