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I need not know what you want

I care not what you need

I need not fear what it is you desire

This dark passenger rages a dark fire

Once upon a time you controlled my soul

Tempting me into a never ending hole

Foolishly I followed your ways

But no longer will you haunt my days

This dark passenger controls me no more

Its time for me to lock the fucking door

I laugh now, that you one day claimed

Your love to resemble a house cat

In such a charming manner that

I thought it meant you aimed

To earn affection from those

You deem adequate and true

Knights preferred over fools.

Yet you, toss men as you do clothes.

With skin soft as the finest fiber

Scrutinized first by Aphrodite

Before laying over lightly

Stretched gently, caressed alluring curves.

And eyes of piercing saphire

Plunge like white-hot daggers

Bursting crimson; you prefer

Seductive slaughter over satire

You lure prey through eyes

Humanity’s great weakness;

The gaze of an enchantress.

No one the wiser, a perfect guise.

Your love is indeed that of a cat:

Trust no one, never forget

‘Lest conditions are met.

You live on, gratis, no one’s pet.

The air at night,

Particulate ecstasy,

Drifts through

Unknowing passerby

In flurries caressing

Internal warfare,

Mental anguish,

Insecurities galore.

It hides us all.

Momentarily;

We are equals.

When our Sun

Steals away

Our neighbor’s

Dusky estate

We sit under

The silver moon

We dream of infinity,

Of peace, divinity.

For soon we fall;

As the Sun will

Once again

Indiscriminately

Beat its piercing rays

On our derelict town.

Displaying for all

Our burial sites

As we wait,

For twilight’s kiss

Six feet underground.

Fleeting glimpses of a rainbow follow the storm

It scurries behind cumuli, shy

Aware of our curious eyes.

 

It bares the castles through nights we forge

In dreams telling of better days,

Of peace, of unity.

 

Through technicolor peculiarity, we’re entranced

Pawns immobile in a Giant’s hand.

Without choice, but to trust and…

hope.

He finds a seat at his favorite watering hole

Orders a whiskey, three fingers.

Gets approached by a group of suited gentlemen

Pin-striped blazers, fedoras, greasy hair.

Too tired to talk, and too distracted to wonder

Why these dapper gents offered a wing to fit him under.

They tell him, “The game is rigged! You’ll never win

Without an edge, or lady luck’s enchanted grin.

We’ve got the booze, the broads, the corrupt feds

We’ll show you a good time, you’ll never regret it

We’ll break the house, and toll the bells to no end

Kid, we’ll go places, you’ll never forget it

I just need you for a minute, walk this bag across

The street to that gent’ in the snow-white hoody

And let him know, ‘the family’s got the goodies.

Keep in touch’ Simple as that, ratatat-tat”

He knows, this is his mark. He downs the whiskey tumbler

Slides off his stool, and adds a parting phrase

“Silly Rabbit, tricks are for kids” as he smashed the glass

Upside this gangster’s head. A golden shield, in full view.

The ranger’s .44 Magnum pointed at the rest of the stupefied crew

Some assholes just never see the badge.

I wrote this today while thinking about the recent Fallout 4 hoax and some mythical ranger scouting a bar in the wasteland to find the person responsible for it…

Spoiler alert: the book series “Youth in Revolt” is mentioned in the afterword and contains key spoilers, so avoid the bottom of the page if you haven’t read the book yet! 

Driving down an open road, the usual route

The sun-roof open, the sun still out

a woman’s smoky voice swims through

Airwaves as she sways and croons

Of love, far gone, still warm and true

I’ll park my car, in a familiar shadow

Under the willow, letting down

Autumn’s gold and amber hair

In piles I’d joyously dance around, but for

Who I see in this small cafe, I’m ill-prepared

I stop, I stutter, breathing shallow, rapid

Only moments left to run, before

My curious eyes are left raptured

By her angelic gaze, in a perfumed haze

Her captivating voice; oh! How I’m still amazed

The fading nail polish, the sandy hair,

Eyes of the purest sapphire,

That genuine smile so rare!

She returned from a journey afar

From exotic lands and sights to share.

She traveled with another, more divine than I

For she saw in him, a true believer; devout

Pure, free of sin, worthy of His watchful eye

And I, simply an underling, in endless drought

Struggled to dim the light I couldn’t live without

And now, face to face, I stand terrified,

Blinded by luminescent resurgence

Emotions I thought to be long efaced, resurface

My mouth moves, though little sound escapes

What brought me here? Why this cafe? Why today?!

I thought I’d never see her again, I guess

hoped I’d never see her again.

Because I know that my offering is no match

For the love she has, and her pious ways.

She is meant for heaven. And I; Purgatory’s maze.

Afterword: I know this poem has had several alternate versions recently, but for me, when a poem of mine has intense personal meaning (Which is usually something I’ve experienced rather than dreamt or imagined), I often come back to it and add bits and pieces to give the story more context for the reader and for my future self. For example; when writing the more personable lines, my mind turns to chaos, and the details in my mind’s eye don’t always make it down on paper the first time around –or possibly even the second or third time– because my mind is not a quick one and easily affected. These small, sometimes grand details slip through the cracks and are only found once again as the dust settles. It’s safe to say I lose a lot of good material, but I love what I do 🙂 Also, the title is in French because I associate cafe’s and dumb love most often with the book “Youth In Revolt”. And how can I forget the way Nick lost everything in France, as Sheeni soon found herself shacking up with a noble Frenchman in a foreign and exotic land, while Nick had to find a way to purge her psychological presence. He never does… but he lives, and lives well

PS: I’m terribly sorry for the spoilers book!

This poem was greatly inspired by the late poet/author, Anne Sexton, and her poem, Red Roses.

beg of you, fair Goddess, expatriate this vagabond soul!

Expel the wayward ways, the self-destruction, the tired eye

Lick the festered wounds and kiss the roses planted by

This Blue Lady in studded heels, dancing atop my heart to and fro

 

Lay to waste her Demonic presence in bright atomic clouds

Take away the key she was given, by the damned devil himself

Force free her desperate grip and send her back to hell!

Then bless my blackened heart, oh please fair Goddess,

To live free of ghoulish shrouds.

Let me fall in love, deep, into the stars which are her eyes

Where she ensnares my wandering heart as azure currents

Describe a vibrant path toward lustful insurgence.

Unleash the delicate, aromatic kiss of Aphrodite’s sigh.

—-

Of wine and myrrh, pungent and sweet, inebriates and invades!

The soul of the damned and even the Gods’ holiest angel

She will rapt either, with a tender smile and limp wrist dangled

In her majestic strut, closing  in on helpless prey!

—-

I say, let me be helpless! Let her come softly

Or pounce as I gaze, in frightened amazement!

Let her tear into my chest, find a most torturous lament

Silence its negating pall! Let life swim through my veins, swiftly.

In vaults of fathomless obscurity

Where Destiny has sentenced me for life;

Where cheerful rosy beams may never shine;

Where, living with that sullen hostess, Night,

 

I am an artist that a mocking God

Condemns, alas! to paint the gloom itself;

Where like a cook with ghoulish appetite

I boil and devour my own heart,

 

Sometimes there sprawls, and stretches out, and glows

A splendid ghost, or a surpassing charm,

And when this vision growing in my sight

 

In oriental languor, like a dream,

Is fully formed, I know the phantom’s name:

Yes, it is She! though black, yet full of light.

 

Written by Charles P. Baudelaire