Flawed Sinners, Sages and Saints

“In my lifetime, I’m still not right.”

the Indigo Girls

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Frail as an, azure manicure…He simply said to me,

“that is what we have left for you.

In such a youthful state…your only tranquility will be a savored, small room set in the mind.”

I could scarcely understand such a, scarred, singed, sage.

No matter the matrimony.

No matter the saint.

No longer…young at middle age.

His terse, flawed quotes…were far from quaint.

Until a debris of wants.

My hoarders bin filled the tapestry in the sacred room.

Cluttering my soul!

A bee swarm!220px-papal_shoes

Being flawed and broken, I held the four walls up to my looking glass.

Plastic abrasions filled my whole.

Among the lonely space…

dreams of nylon insurrection paid for with youthful…tainted cash.

One Jealous Woman

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There are certain streets,

that certain people walk on.

And, it is with great certainty, that is just how it is.

Fringe towns live as though they may fall off the map, any day.

It’s citizens love as today…were the last.

With empty pockets they will always carry their neighbor’s burden.

And, of that,  I am certain.

Humble pie is a pauper’s diet.

It is better to lay with dogs than walk with thieves.

Not all shallow waters are what they seem.

Sweet dreams deserve a morning’s mention.

And, of that, I am certain.

There ain’t no rest for the wicked…unless we are five feet underground.

Justice is silent.

But tyranny has sound.

One jealous woman can out fox ten misguided men.

And, of that, I am certain.

A prophet I am not.

But I am, however, the best I’ve got.

Prophets we are not.

But we are, however, the best we’ve got.

Resin

 

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With every strand of falling lock

With every steppin’ stone,

and

all the hours spent not heaven-sent.

One second consumed by things of..

regret…trite though it may be…

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can blur the scene that frames the way.

Still life with disarray.

Glad tidings of happy old age.

All just rehearsal for the grand stage.

Who cares about electric blue star-dust,

luminaries with cashmere mittens,

andresin 3

moon beam hippies?

Perhaps, those who careless about the ages…

Post beatnik sages.

Resin renaissances.

Romantic resonators.