Dreading the fictions
and their inner imaginings
willingly embracing
the poetry
in those eager
fingers
/ Unforgiving Eyes /
Will you remember those words
W h e n y o u a r e o l d -
W h e n s h e ’ s g o n e ?
Poetry soldiers
missing in action—
silent whispers
that do not speak
wonders, yet reveal
half truths
/ Unforgiving Lies /
Will you remember their words
W h e n s h e’ s o l d -
W h e n y o u ’ r e g o n e ?
Dreading the fictions
and their inner imaginings
willingly embracing
the poetry
in those eager
fingers
/ Unforgiving Minds /
Like the
poetry soldiers
missing in action—
yearning for fictions
to evolve from
abstractions
Minds, eyes,
white lies,
soft words—
barely whispered—
under
b l a z i n g
e n e m y
s k i e s
I wish I’d never
let you read
any of the stories
in my draft
book
Since I always knew
you’d just skim
through
those
pages
( Lousy reader
that you were—
now, your time, pronto!
to get back
to school )
This is
a book
that will
never get
published
Too bad you
trashed
the draft
upon first
reading
Too good
you’ll never
ever get
to read
the end,
One so tenderly
written in my
doctor’s
handwriting -
undecipherable,
for
my
Failed
R e a d er
E x t r a o r d i n a i r e
wording wondrous wreckage
imagining feasts of rhyme
and lusting after
verse-full fancy
ty p i ng
t
h
e
e
n
n
u
i
a w a y
through burgundy
written
stanzas
as
the
drama
Queen
she
wasn’t
meant
to
be
.
.
.
y e t — s h e ' d b e c o m e
.
.
.
and
then
she closed
her eyes
p
r
e
t
e
n
d
i
n
g
n o t h i n g
h a d
e v e r
h a p p e n e d
You hit me /
Immense high /
Dried ginger clouds
Mischievously
Embrace me /
While I float away
I n g o d l y
S o u n d s c a p e /
I start
Sliding down
To viscous darkness /
Engulfing me /
U n a w a r e /
Faintly blurring away
Y o u r t r u e
E x i s t e n c e /
Hopelessly
I hit
The ground /
And dive into
The murkiest
Depths
I ’ v e e v e r
I n h a b i t e d /
Junkie dwarfs
Deftly conceal
Your
Exit
plan /
To my blankly
S i l e n t
E y e s /
I’m certain
You will
Never
Say
Sorry /
For those games
Y o u
P l a y e d /
You were Pure
Heroine /
And into
That gutter /
I do not want /
Again /
T o fall /
W i l l i n g l y /
One last
Poetic killer
Card
You hide /
As again /
Y o u h i t m e
V e r s e - l e s s l y /
You
A r e n o w
G o n e / I /
A m n o w
G o n e /
B o t h b u t f a i n t
S m o k e /
Of w h a t
W e
O n c e
W e r e/
W h a t
C o u l d /
H a v e /
B e e n /
/ I
Am
Ever
So /
Sorry /
F o r
O u r
L o s s / / /
P.S.
I resurrected /
That is
The epilogue
Your literary eyes
Will
Never
G e t t o
R e a d /
So /
As
I start
Combatively
Writing
M y
O w n
H i s t o r y /
I stop
Mourning
Us /
And
Become /
T h e h e r o i n e
i n m y o w n
S t o r y /
I n s t e a d
do you think
i should let
go now
and stop
picking up
those fallen
leaves?
i loved
collecting
them
for my
vintage
album
as inspired
by that
magical
bond
i
a
l
w
a
y
s
cherished,
embraced,
yet
n
e
v
e
r
e v e r
saw
flourish,
(d i d i
j u s t
i m a g i n e
i t . . .?)
the touch
of those leaves
still feels
too raw
i t
s t i r s
m y
s o u l
n a k e d
yet,
I keep
hoping
for the day
i’ll see your
handsome
tree
s
t
a
n
d
i
n
g
t
a
l
l
and,
finally,
and,
s u r e l y,
f o r
e v e r
g
r
e
e
n
i lightly caress
the tip
of that mike
As if I was
about to sing
your yet unwritten
silent
s
o
l
o
instrument naked—
my voice
about to tickle
Your well-versed skin
and enticingly
bite on your
unsuspecting
earlobe
A mascara tear
drops
and blurs
the mirrored image of
our
i
m
a
g
i
n
e
d
coexistence
the one that will never
be read aloud—
same as my solo
will never ever get sung
it was
your one and only
a capella kiss
yet that night
you chose
not to
l
i
s
t
e
n
to my naked
notes
that bleeding
nightsong
LannaZee 