Princess LilyPad

My eyes gaze upon you
Memorize every dip and angle
Know it all and say now forever
Deborah's seen your face
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Small little feet little buns little hands,
The delicate bones that form a true baby grand,
Flecks of light that bounce from his boyish silken crown,
Of fine hazelnut hairs tousled all around.
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The lives of our times, these days anymore aren’t so much ours, their yours and then their kinda mine,
The riddles in our rhymes, aren’t so much sung for each other anymore, in fact, not most times
The lilt in our voices, have gone flat from too many untaken back swipes and further disrespectful choices
The grins we used to swap, are mostly drowned out by angered, juvenile and know it better than you voices.
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Left left not right she's left
Took off in a flurry with vodka on her breath
Stepped on the gas, went south like it was her last step
And it was, for nightly there ever after she's softly wept
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Night sweats im on the bed
No twinkly stars seen with this head
Just a cold cold room
With you gone its just a room
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Fable me, like your fancy dancer
Trouble me like the corner bum
Life ahead it stands to suffer
Drink me death from a bottle of rum
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Polarized by a blanket of s$%T
That covers every guilt, every glance, every pit
Fingertips, lips, slip and fit
Until its all it is and all that's it.
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If I had to point you out in a crowd,
Designate your disguise,
I’d tell the wonderer to look amongst his peers
To find a magic man’s eyes
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On paper it becomes fact
On paper it stares back
On paper we are striken
With the facts that demand as well as take
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I could blow,
I wouldn’t dare
If I make a move
I know you are there.
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I die in our arms yet suffer no ill,
I squander hours in swarms,
bored but believing this trill.
Of fated, stated, real love musical swirl.
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There was a sick moon that hung lame outside my window. And i chatted it up one night after a tumbler of gin. Just in case that moon could see me. What if something was up there and found me! This nothing girl, a ragged, miniscule humanoid girl somewhere out there in this world not yet easily identified on earth as existing or within a flurry of dizzying animation. Oh, if that big cheeze ball up there could find me! me! I'd pull on my old brown shoes and climb the tumbling ladder up onto it's crater plated back to dwell in the validity and make his laziness become giddy lovely craziness...i swear i just saw a real life living moon and it winked once upon a minute straight at me.

Oh yes, i think it's so! So stumbling up, wobbly and punch drunk, I reached out and grabbed the moon’s nightcap to swing about on. And The sliver moon just laughed. In it's space on stars sang clarity and I could fill my lungs with stars that would simply burst out of my chest in giggles and starbursts, skittles and surely this was not iniebriation but celebration. Swinging akin to being shot out of a cannon windswept as I orbited what astronomers could only perceive as a miraculous anomaly. As that crusty old once lazy grinning moon, well, it then shined on me like a crazy supernova. Head to toe I was illuminated. Diamondlike. Beautiful.
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Hurts hurled from a childhood netherworld
Blames that lay shame about this shepards herd
Guilt glistens sharp with every accusing word
No clean sounds can be sounded, yelled or merely heard
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100 men who would just have to look,
100 men who would in games have mistook
100 men that I’d make smile but disappoint
100 men who’d never get to my private point
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Longing Little big baby boy, a real “love me! ” loud lonely boy,
Loves a lovely lady girl, ladylove goes spry in kaliedescope curls

Lovelorn salt sobs, the dirty filthy little drips,
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Look at me up here exposed, shoving my whole spirit straight at you
Look at you in the audience low and loud, swaying to my groove
Clap clap clap, rush to set up a rats trap
Praise me in Kudo’s, Bravos and more
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Leaves fleeing from the trees
Like the birds movin on across the skyline
The blankets of glistening white glasstine.
Sprawls out and covers everything that’s yours and mine.
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The Wearing of the Green Dress
Akin to the red rumbling fire you imagine rolls inside a boiling kettle
A drop kick to the lumbar of my spine, the lower region that makes me want to s$#t
Restless mind a guttural slicing mad dash turns across the frontal lobe
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Seek me further lovers as I lie stranded on the dunes
Disillusionment is as normal as a fork to the spoon
Oft it is that my face it crinkles into the sun with regret
Never can I whisper proud about this that I let
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Forgotten up on a bench up where the hillside crests,
Wonder round these grounds with no friends or guests,
Lay down in the sun at least smiling at me from the west,
Are those vultures circling above? No need to guess…
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