Cerberus And The Bitch That I Loved (A Love Story)

Cerberus And The Bitch That I Loved (A Love Story)



I’m the hell-bound puppy
Forever doomed to lay at your heels
I’ve got to get away.

The collar you own is so painful to wear
Why do I put it on of my own accord?
You jerk the leash so tight,
Smiling as you look down,
Your teeth so bright.
Why can’t I see the signs
This is not part of my grand design
You’re the owner I cannot be with,
I’ve got to get away.

I’m the soft one with a heart
Pierced by you and chained to a post
I’ve got to run away and hide.

I can hear you calling me
On the inside seeking me
There are things about you I love
But you will hurt me
Again and again
And that’s not love.
I’ve got to stay away.

Your bright lights blind,
Deer on the highway
Or moth to a flame,
You shine so bright
But bring such pain.
You’re the bitch of Hades
And you want me for your whelp,
A play-toy of your own, far
Beyond any kind of help.
I’ve got to run away.

Scared on my own,
Panting, sobbing, being
Alone.
No food, no love,
No one to be with.
No one to cause me pain,
No one to put me into chains.
Freedom is my salvation.
You’re the dog in heat
Thinking I’m your Cerberus,
Your multi-headed indecisive prisoner.
So I’ve got to get away.

Once I’m me, that means
I’ve got away,
Far away,
Far enough to just be me again.






August 10th, 2009

Full Of You (And Thus, Nothing)

Full of You (And Thus, Nothing)


Red wood
Brick pillars to the sky
Total open-ended nothingness
Carps and harps are blown sky-high.

Two pence for a dollar
And a dollar for my needs
Thirty-one of something
With nobody to appease.

Rusted independence
And nary a thought to spare
Chocolate fondness
Going up depressive stairs.

Subservient to the masses
An opiate for the middle classes
Totality of nondisclosure
Emptiness of full.

Nothing makes sense
Nothing happens right now
Nobody sees themselves
And life is a cow
With four really big bloated stomachs
And lots of flies.


August 10th, 2009

Walk Like Shark-Bait

Walk Like Shark-Bait


The curtain is cut, the actors gone home
The sea is rough, I stand alone
Another Monday in a stormy week of sighs
Totally naked amidst the lows and highs.

It’s a short-bus ride to insanity
When your heart has been perforated by love’s profanity.
Cut the curtain, smash out the lights
The sharks will circle all they like
Sell the soul to the maker of tears
Rend the cries from the lips of the cheers
The leaders of the cheers take from me years
And my talent takes a hike.

Learning to be yourself is a lot like repeated suicide
You’ve got to examine, then gut, what you can’t abide
Take all those comments you thought were snide
Put them on black and let them ride.

My apocalypse, your atrophy,
Nobody has a trophy that looks like me
Loneliness and betrayal are the devil’s ugly daughters
All the predators smell the blood in the water
The curtain is in flames and the bruises will not heal
And not all the makeup in the world can conceal
The ache that splits my soul from my spirit
I cry so silent that no one can hear it.

The curtain is cut, the actors gone home
The sea is rough, I stand alone
The death-comet stole the scene today
The director has thrown the script away
And my actress leans over my life with an axe in hand
This job has become the very quicksand
I was want to avoid
My death comes slow from what I thought I once enjoyed.

They circle, they swirl, they sense the kill
My blood, my life, they long to spill
With teeth, and jaws, they close to my end
These predators that I once thought to be a friend.
All is dark, all is black
All is done, I am all lack
But still survive by clinging do I
Once again returns my week of sighs.

My death comes slow, my death still lasts
I have no lungs, so no last laugh
I’m on the short-bus in my mind
The mind, the field, the mine, all mine
Smash out the lights and ignore the cheers
Truth is my death was foretold for years.

Learning to be yourself is a lot like repeated suicide
You’ve got to examine, then gut, what you can’t abide
Take all those comments you thought were snide
Put them on black and let them ride.

Take all those thoughts of self from which you try to hide
Put them on black and let them ride
The game may be fixed, you may not survive
But when you walk like shark-bait, you have no life.


August 9th, 2009