I am king,
Of a pond of perception
Just large enough to see my reflection.
I decree that someday I will be swallowed whole,
And in time I’ll become the sea,
And eventually the stars.
In the mean time…
For those who have no taste for my disgraces,
I don’t have a kiss for those who condemn,
Each has the taste of “me” on my lips…
And it’s a shame for you and them.
I fan the flame.
When my lids lift,
My color shall be gray.
Gorge on illusions as you would chocolate,
Fatten your self up, for the only thing thats pure white is a lie.
But I can’t bare to lavish life with ten foot long tongs.
Truth is a masochists pleasure,
It’s spilled ink or a long sigh.
Does anyone fake an orgasm for themselves?
I think I have. It made nickels and dimes at the time.
Just to feel warm, wading in my placid pond.
To Fantasize while I flail in a stormy sea.
We crack our eyes at sun break,
And it dawns on us to ‘Shake the chills.’
But hand it to those who fall, or crawl from their beds for their own sake.
To those of them who make a new notch on their belts for each day,
And tighten it again, so it won’t bleed dry.
I say ‘Bleed!’ But out of passion, not fear.
What good is blood without heart?
For those who are depressed, I understand.
Just put faith in choice
Beyond the buffet of distractions and highs,
It’s always been up to you.
To choose to live, die, laugh or cry.
Smoke your life down to the bone if you wish,
And feed your cancer bedtime stories,
Of how it was.
But don’t tell yourself that’s how it had to be,
Unless you are a lover with that lie.
Because we can be anything,
Vegetarians if you please,
And if you lust for brown lumps of ground beef…
If that brings back comforts from your childhood.
I will make you meatless meat balls.
Just let our friendship be more,
Then dining and deception.
I’d rather pry my eyes open every hour in this sea,
Have salty stinging blurry sight so beautiful,
I’ll coddle the ocean cold with guilty grins,
While waves crash like towers,
Fearless because I’ve decreed:
I will be eaten,
By a fish of many shades of gray.
So I might serve beyond my words,
And those I’ve touched holding hands in the swells.
My fish is more ominous then the ocean. And I will feed it well.
I will swim in truth,
Until my lie comes.