shades of a smile

night sky,

as the moon sails by;

stars act like eyes,

looking down upon slumber ground –

night sky

 

dreams of a deep desire,

act like a movie conspire;

campagne for lady love

and all that could be lost,

in dreams of deep desire !  !

 

typed words of inked ribbon black,

sought words of invisible emotion;

the strength of feelings linger,

but now forgets –

to her, are just these typed words of inked ribbon black.

 

i’ve changed my face

for a change of pace.

perhaps it may have been a game that backfired on me;

but here!, in the shades of my smile –

all that is left is her faded wallpapered mile.

and i changed my face  –

for a change of pace.

 

night sky,

dreams of deep desires;

turned into typed words of invisible emotion

was it i that woke up the giving of a bright sunshine day?

yea! it was i, cycling the shades of a smile

perhaps all in the making;

night sky

 

 

c. 2015 bgw

anymore

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i was –

an empty bed and no telegram delivery.

while the coffee that brews,

waking, i stand here;

waiting, for the things i’ve lost –

to come back in different form.

i stand here in the kitchen

waiting for the things i’ve lost

to come back –

to come back in some different form.

a dear john letter,

and she won’t be coming back.

she won’t be anymore,

but forever a god damn attack on myself.

her amazing eyes,  never coming to this ship wreck.

solo black coffee toast,

yet i knew that some kind of pain was overdue –

a little expected,

but never not this soon.

never not this soon.

absolute can never be certain,

tell me it’s not this again –

she wont be coming back,

anymore,

anymore.

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i wasn’t,  and there i wasn’t.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

sunday paper

sit in the pews

and praise the good news.

sunday paper –

i stand in protest

and curse the bad news view.

sunday paper,

black coffee sipping.

across the sea’s mad chaos breach,

stay here and vacation to the nearest beach.

lake view real estate,

take me home.

loud car selling sales, stock market plunder fails.

find the stars hiding

above the approaching storms hail.

home team loss,

and forget about the cutting of educational funding cost.

sit in the pews

and praise the good news.

sunday paper –

i stand in protest

and curse the bad news view.

twenty thousand killed

and the seasonal farm fields that never got tilled.

cast into the night,

hungry mouths never in sight.

protesters are rioters,  looters –

and an unemployed worker shoots.

sit in the pews

and praise the good news.

sunday paper –

stand in protest

and curse the bad news view.

sunday paper,

read all about it!,

sunday paper

 

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

addiction

 

i woke up with disappointment by my side,

depression breathing on my neck.

took two pills by time my first cup of coffee was done;

welcome to the escape.

mid-morning shower to wash off the memory –

a shot of bourbon to forget the desire.

two more pills for a lunch time break

cold and dark inked words scraped the parchment,

remember the hand that once was held

i woke up with disappointment by my side,

depression breathing on my neck…..

 

 

 

c. 2015 bgw

rusted

a once conceived dream lined in silver and gold,

now finds itself crumbling into a pile of rubble and shifts into rust.

here! in the room of once found comfort and privilege,

now easily squeezes and suffocates every drop of light;

leaving one drowning in an invisible darkness.

one sought inside a book of favourable word

for some sort of answer,

but instead made ones guilt stab another in the back;

don’t turn back,  don’t want you back.

but if here,  i find myself at the end,

in a once conceived dream lined in silver and gold

in a room of once found comfort,

now easily squeezes and suffocates every drop of light;

let me crumble and fall into a pile of rubble and shift into rust

 

c. 2015 bgw