The Dog, Gone
Like a fly upon the wall
my status far from clear,
a-waiting an a-whistled call
with anxious, pinned-back ears;
the chance to walk, or fetch a ball,
small things that so endeared-
me to your heart, God-damn it all
have all but disappeared.
Invisible, dismissible, impalpably I crawl,
wishing somehow you might hear,
perceiving my paw-fall.
And pat this head, or drop a tear -
for friendship unresolved.
She is beautiful.
The kind you can't describe.
Hidden but still translucent.
But as I said, she hides.
She is honest.
But she lied a lot.
Now she stays still.
Moving around a lot.
She is guarded,
But she would tell you everything.
She is haunted
But she is as trapped as me.
That lamp doesn't belong there,
And that colour, well, it is vile.
I can't stand those curtains, these cushions or that couch,
Really, have you no sense of style?
I scream at you until I am blue in my see-through face,
Yet you do not hear me, nor do you see.
For goodness sakes, woman,
It looks like the inside of a pea.
What have you done?
Where is the palace I once kept so shiny, so pristine?
What on earth possessed you to pick this odious green?
And it's not just the house, is it?
How often must I watch you weep?
So desperate, so sad,
So many nights do you cry yourself to sleep.
But what do you know of true loneliness?
God, to trade places, what I wouldn't give.
To have what you have,
To get to live!
Alas, I am stuck with you,
And though you may not know it, you with me.
And together we shall live out our lonely days on the inside of a pea.
You fear me in the dark
Yet I see you all day
As time passes away
Why I'm here
I do not know
Forced to stay
As others come and go
In gentle shadow
You've seen me before
And for a moment you wonder
Then choose to ignore
I wish you could hear me
The same as I hear you
So lonely both we are
Questioning what fate holds true
How nice it would be
To have just one friend
It seems we both need comfort
A hand I wish to lend
I feel your laughter
I see your bitter tears
So much I've wished to tell you
Over long and lonely years
Alone and together
We may always be
Dragonflies in amber
Of fate's irony
Here I am
a lingering presence
you seem to always see me
in a way that no one else does
your pitiful eyes look up
and your hand waves to say hi
and I wonder if you sometimes wish that you too could fly
i invite you too come up here
please stay for a while
i have become lonely
for people only scream when I come by
some see me as a monster
but you see right through my mask
so here please step right up
i offer you my hand
I was never ready to leave, so should I?
I still hear echoes from the nursery,
Where my newest love would have cooed from.
The paint still smells wet, I remember it being a warm pink,
Did you really have to make it a den?
Every night she calls out to me,
And my breasts heavy with milk I find myself lost,
In a room full of books where she should be laying.
Around and around I walk, exasperated and aimless,
Everything looks different but her cries remain constant.
Where is my new love, she eludes me every night.
Let me hold my love and only then will I feel release.
One and the Same
I notice you sitting there,
But do you ever notice me?
The one that watches you,
The one that stands beside you,
Or am I just a brush of cold air,
A winters kiss?
I'm lost sometimes,
Just like you,
A drifting soul,
With little hope,
But big dreams.
I could be a child,
Or even a beloved pet,
I am you?
Your uneven footsteps are clumsy.
Your patterns are disheveled.
Moving too quickly you do not float but flit, like a hummingbird.
Why do you dance so often?
You are a mystery.
Do you sit down?
Creature of habit.
Processes and routines are you.
Please meditate, you make me anxious.
He's alone but talks a lot
Rarely do I know what it's all about.
Often in silence, he'll sit and think
Then in a hurry, he'll take the paper and the ink.
Then come the smiles, the curses and rage
Taking the notebook and ripping off the page.
Suddenly he'll get up and stroke his chin
Throwing the ripped page into the trash bin.
The night will come but his sleep won't come
To agony and despair, he will succumb.
But with the morning the paper is filled
He's happy, joyful, ecstatic and thrilled.
Then, he sleeps for days on end
Yes, he snores, listening to that I do not recommend.
He'll wake up, watch TV and take a bite
Until he goes to the desk again
Bites the bitter pain
Takes the pen and starts to write.
You are a conundrum to me.
I see you faltering and hovering and fumbling,
clearly so desperate for a release,
to be free.
every night without fail,
you pull those chains out and tie it around your torso,
and stare unblinkingly into a blue screen,
as though staving off The Unknown.
The Unknown is here though,
I'm already here.
I wish you could take joy in the matter resolved,
but you won't ever know.
I'll keep you company though,
watch you fight and be lulled by the current,
every night and day.
I'll keep watch, so rest.