Poétique

Nursery Rhyme

Twinkle twinkle little star
Is there any chance by far
I can make my own life bliss
Somehow I’ll get out of this

Baa baa black sheep
Have you any mom
No sir no sir
She’s long gone

Is she alive
Or is she dead?
She’d grind my bones
She’d have my head!

All the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Couldn’t put back
Our kinship again

I’m a little boy blue
With no dad in the moon
I’m a foster kid now
Universally spooned

Many bridges falling down
Falling down all around
Family bridges falling down
I’m still standing on the ground

Like Jack and Jill went
Up a hill to fetch a pail of water
I left my home to get away
From chaos I departed

They’re coming to take me away
Ha ha hee hee ho ho I ran
They’re coming to take me away they say-
But you can’t catch the gingerbread man!

Qui a eu cette idée folle
Un jour pour parlons nous
Nous ne connaissons pas notre famille
Rêve d’une vie belle aussi

Kiss my neck or shake my hand
I’ll make friends with lots of people
You cannot take my joy away
Pop goes the weasel

I am looking in on my existence
From the outside window of
My lifehouse in a hazy mirror
Through a cloudy monocle
I can almost see what a
Faze of interesting things
Have yet to say splenetically
How long will the portentous mind
Crank away at an irresolute and
Ghastly perspective shadows
Pooling distant verdant and red
Circumventing around the trees
In brilliant gazelle-like motions
Winter releases the last season
Beneath my feet and my boots
From their duty while the snow berries
Laugh in jocular trembles at me
Sometimes I think they’re
Laughing specifically at me, the center
Of my heart is extremely sensitive
So when the cockles grow cold
I feel empty and fold over
Like a mattress squinched in half
Only enough room for the dust to
Slip out and catch fire
Burn up in flames, incinerated
Leaving only the circular springs
Hand tied to the bottoms
Of my shoes bouncing on
Wild mushrooms plump with private
Intentions eager to return
To a time when the best
Of myself can be seen
Even with clouded vision misty
While the dust settles before the
Next storm comes to drum the
Emotions out drowning them down
Pulling them out from under the chiffonnier
And I am an old rag-picker turned
Round into a Turkish rug maker
Delighting in the paintings of
What picturesque brushstrokes
Claim for a life worth loving

Least of All

I’ve always been the good boy
Or so I thought you see
Doing my best l keep the peace
I found my balance
I just never had enough people to
Reject me openly in my defeat
Now that I have more discouraging me
It doesn’t feel so bad
Do I continue to rack up
More dissatisfied people
Than I’ve ever had?
As the number grows
I kiss my old friends goodbye
But I also rest in peace
Because I know in silent hallways
New friends are to be made
I am not on guard alone
To protect myself from
Another disappointed home
Moment event by moment
My heart is openly exposed
A new horizon
And I’m prepared for you
Every possibility to
Be less than what you need
I’ve always been a good boy
Or so I thought you see
Doing my best I kept the peace
I found my balance when
I accepted that nobody’s perfect
Least of all absence
Least of all me

Blue

Broken heart
Broken pieces in the dark
Who can tell us where to go
When the light is shining
No more no more no more
Everything falls short
Before we have the chance
To make it whole
Built a life that calls to you
Left with pieces
Shattered blue
No more lies
No more hate
No more time to find our way
Built a life that calls to you
Left with pieces
Shattered blue

Trapped

Slovenly dripping
From the lips and the chin
A messy grotesquely
Wet slippery skin
Sickeningly unquenchable
Stew bubbling over
With an appetite for you
Death the red the red
We drink til we’re dead
À votre santé
Wine and bones
Twisted like vines
Death the red the red
We drink til we’re dead
A throne of grapes
A thorn path led
To be broken undone
Unwoven and reborn
A scent of yesterday
Knit tightly in your sweater
Lingers on the dining
Room table what a fable
Fee-fi-fo-fum
I smell the blood
Of an Englishman
A fairytale delivered
By a pigeon in a letter
Carved my future into
My forehead in the
Shape of a tree
And the leaves fell
Down around my feet
Where you picked me up
And rescued me
Reduced my fear
Stripped my pain
Extracted all anxiety
Trinquer à clink eh?
Fancy a wink nay?
Fee-fi-fo-fum
Death the red the red
So said the bells
Ringing ting-a-ling-ling
We drink until we’re dead

Well

Better than fair, less than good
Biking at night without a light;
A haunting truth suspended;
It is a willingness to escape you
Wrapped up in the innocence of finally knowing it.

To care for is to participate, when you are engaged,
With my heart, with my silence, with my words,
I stand before you bleeding thoughts
Out on the floor, though they fall silent.

My heartbeat full of rage,
Towards your diabolical sneers

Around you I am not who I am truly
You admonish my sweetest charms,
Upon my back a belly of hate streams
Like a prism into the open air
I race to abandon myself from your selfish squinting glares

To listen to love, is to hear something traveling far behind you
Your suffocating surroundings
Are noisy like the shackles
of your lying breath.

With my heart on my sleeve I zap you
With light to outweigh your darkness
Until the breeze of the multiverse
Blows your house of selfishness
Down to Hades

Love is a tool, to be near
Fake people can use it as well

Paradoxically grossed out by your nature
My skin crawls away to become salt
On a beach that will satisfy
The appetite of the dugong
I sacrifice the same death to feed love—
To escape you in a sea of hope

A green hunger, like a carnivorous plant
Chomping away you stand before the rest
A class of your own a mouth full of teeth
Sharp fork bladed tongue to dismiss me

Publicly you feel luxurious
Yet you fortify me, make me whole
With your embittered commands

To truly love I take the risk to turn
The volume of my heartbeat up
Aficionado of sagacity I crawl on top
Of the boulder that crushes your
Provocative insult to truth
By way of extinguishing those around you
The finish line, the last bite, a fight for the light; I am not your crime

Touching

So many moments palmy
Wrapped up like honey
Sticky and holding tightly
To the echt delicious notion
We will find ourselves
Munificently dangling
From the edge of our
Commingled existence again
Was it just the possibility
That I could find you
Unequivocally on the other
Side of all that smoke
Running faster towards
You before your heart
Gave way to the attack
Of our love like a medical
Condition the leftovers
From our legacy will be
Defined by our passion
And not by the inability
To keep going on
Holding strong to one
Another same as the glue that
Holds the water to the earth
Perhaps the gravity of
Our love was an experiment
In life and death
An experiment in memories
That live on even without
Our continued participation
Frozen in time worn and
Damaged suspension
Components of eternal love
So many moments palmy
Swarming around the comb
Of our honey with our
Backs against the beach
Tears streaming down our faces
Just as the stars reach out
To one another without
Ever really touching

Tutsi

He died crying
How unusually sad
A war on his tribe
Nothing left of his mother
All that cared for him
Sister and brother vanished
Beneath the blade
What a beautiful face
With what grace do
We come into this world
Only to leave at the
Disgrace of the hands
Of evil when the arms
Of love were just cradling
Us now gone to the grave
Open air nothing spared
Innocence slain
For no benefit
For no joy
No further happiness
To grow from the smile
That was taken from
His face alone when
He died crying

Tour À Tour

Groans of pain
Days of light
Life gets easier
Wins the fight
Breathes in relief
Takes one
For the team
Aches of grey
Tears like rain
Trespassing on
My hearts terrain
Destiny is only
One more step
Away from jilting
Us into our
Greatest fate

Panjandrum

I don’t need to be the smartest
Person in the room nor do I
Look to be the prettiest flower
Rancorous lines persist like a
Churlish fence around the heart
Emulated are the forty plus count petals
Palliative in nature heavy their fragrance
Heals the symptoms without actually
Dealing with the cause or the conditions
A heterophemy really just like writing
Down the words that have absolutely
Nothing to do with the story an entire
Novel filled with tenebrous thoughts
Even the outside cover embellishes
Remarkable disdain what’s left to fein
Lionize the unworthy punish the good
Under the rug what a grok if only to be
Handed to the nepotists with fervid
Eloquence coaxing out the cobras
Unwillingly defanged they took my
Voice and made a song out of
Dead roses but it was prettier than
When it was muffled under water