Beauty & the beast

For all I’ve done
I see the monster I’ve become
And in the speed of light
I’m struck dumb

Nowhere to go
Just a beast
In human clothes

The scales upon my back
Sharpened anticipating attack
Claws dig down
Finding roots to cling to

As I froth at the mouth
Taking a bite from rotten apples
Maggots abound

Eyes black shielding a soul behind
But there’s an ocean inside

Trying to figure out
What it is to be human
I observe them all
And even I
Always fall in love with someone

I shroud my face
And take a dagger to my heart
In beauty I have no place
So I’ll stand apart

© SilverbackGorilla Poetry.

2015

Boulervard Of Broken Dreams

At first I was inundated
With feelings familiar
To a once rampant heart beat
That faded into the distance
One frosty night on a darkened street
Where tears and ex lovers came to meet

The feeling to which I’d been acquainted with
Once before those many moons ago
I feel it beating but I swore to never let myself go
Not that way
Not again

And so I left her
In room 13
At The boulevard of broken dreams

 

(c) 2015

Red

I heard her footsteps approach
I poured me a drink and settled down
She wore red shoes and a red dress
Red lipstick and her handbag matched too
But inside she was mismatched just like me
“Red is the colour of passion” she had always said

My face shrouded by cigarette smoke
She peered through said
“Smokin’ another nail in your coffin I see”
Hands on her hips
Glaring back at me
Till she tore that cigarette from my lips
“I aint seeing you croak on my watch”

She had that sultry look in her eyes
And I was duty bound
Got up and took her into the night
Nothing needed to be said
In the silence we mutually agreed
To paint the night in red

written 2015 posted on previous blog(c)

The boys we were

We sat and watched the trains
Listened to their wheels screech on the line
Our faces dusty and muddy from play
But we always fell to silence to watch the trains
Going this a-way and that a-way
And we mimicked the sounds in our games
“WOOoWOoooo”

We’d run too close to the tracks
And our mothers screamed “Get back!”
And oh how we laughed
And our faces looked on with anticipation
As the rumble of a train could be heard
In the distance

And the paper mill would sound an alarm
And we’d burrow down under a bench
Because under there we’d come to no harm
Our grandfathers told us of the wars
And in our imaginations a fight was ahead
And we were evacuee’s waiting for a train

And our little dusty faces
Peered under hats
And our grandparents would clean us
By spitting onto a handkerchief
And we’d squirm
And wash our faces again behind their backs

Now the boys we used to be
Sit frozen in sepia photographs

Written in 2014-2015 (c)