She sings the Church songs on Sunday
and tries to emulate the feeling the singer had
In its absence, she taps those soon-to-be
manicured nails on the table
and taps those eight years old Shirleys
that even God would question on the floor
She bows her head and damn near speaks
in tongues that even the tongue can’t decipher
She taps the mind to make it believe, like she does, that She is doing all the right things to make it into Heaven’s God’s grace
She can’t wait ’til Church is over
So She can resume how others see her
All along, She was planning her day
Tag: poser
The Absent Visitor
Your eyes are open
Yet you’re dead outside
Repetitive motion
delays the inevitable
You can be heard
Muffled, as if under ground
Changing of the garb
Drawing attention to the autopsy
not yet declared
The Absent Visitor
Your eyes are open
Yet you’re dead outside
Repetitive motion
delays the inevitable
You can be heard
Muffled, as if under ground
Changing of the garb
Drawing attention to the autopsy
not yet declared
The Absent Visitor
Your eyes are open
Yet you’re dead outside
Repetitive motion
delays the inevitable
You can be heard
Muffled, as if under ground
Changing of the garb
Drawing attention to the autopsy
not yet declared
Man’s Own Box
Appearances are everything
Along with that
despite one’s name
shaven better than beard
endowed rather than not
Cold is like hot-headed
Shy is worthless
while quiet means nothing
to live without doing
Who wants that recipe?
Mankind wears a button
of those they know and love
and hate
Still, they are in the know
Trying
Doing
Lest one tries to produce
Failure is a label
worn after grief
Alas, appearances are everything
when we remind ourselves
that we are so worthy
La Femme Accident
Cold girl
Shivers in fur
Calculating her move
with the sure powerful
Only she knows
the renewal date of her
Tramp-stamped passport
Trading secrets too tender for legal
Though always legal to make one tender
Like a chameleon she pretends
Able to turn on love gestures
at the drop of sodium pentothal effects
Included in one’s IV line
Even a Green-Colonel wearing a beret
cowards to her talents
Yet she is able to get invited to dinner
and wash her laundry below the family room
Passion for her
does have an expiration date
And the gauge she professes
leave no powered residue
The young and impressionable can see
her true essence
Well, out of the mouths of babes
She is vilified
But she will never see herself in them
The many faces of wickedness
could succumb to joy
Though emotion is a sign of weakness
until a drink is ordered and left unattended
Let her pretend to pretend to not care
of their demise
About two steps behind her
before she changes her fur
Setting Up House
Longer
Are the 24 hours of daylight
of which all hope
can be soon found
never again treated
like a doorbuster prize
Well-advertised
the only fanciness
stares back in the shiny
wrapping it possesses
Encompassed hands
never do move
As if frozen
Yet all else is carefree
Even Santa doth winks
at full-fed twinks
And drinks are spilled
as portals are then filled
Within the merriment of glee
Peace be with thee
To get closer
does He then see
the poser can no longer be
Still rules
broken by fools
wade childishly in pools
that laugh and smile
with all invitations on file
No expiration date
And Return to Sender as Fate
No Postage Required
Just your Will desired
Meeting the stamp of approval
Like a squirrel
earns points for accrual
Longer
are days that always last
everywhere and
out there
to share
strutting confidently
and oblivious to the past
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