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If I could compose
One true moment of beauty
I would shine once more

© 2010 Miss Blue

Made to Fade

Life ceases to exist when talentless twits are given clout
And are told they are great by a posse of powerful fools
Where are my groupies hanging off my every word?
Cherishing my every syllable
Masturbating to every lick of my lips between sentences
Instead of being cast aside as yesterday’s news set to become someone’s bride
Tied to the apron strings of my prison longing on my linoleum
For some way out for someone to put me on their stage
So someone else can complain about lack of talent as people clap
For every word I read that has become someone else’s jealous fantasy instead

© 2009 Miss Blue

Ambient Streams

I thought about your hands,
cracks and lines tell the stories of your time.
Like the love affair of 29,
Your fingers slipped through his fingers and so did your twenties.
Reminds you of the time lost from another romp at 19
that turned into the slithering of the snake’s trap,
only to release you to find you’re 23
thinking you’re gonna go somewhere
and awaken at 25 to leave it all behind
to find the peace of mind where satisfaction lays.
Spent too many worried days with none left to spend while I spent none at all.
All the pain that laid to rest in the lines in my hands but by 49
I had taken care of my skin so well that I cannot retell all the stories of my hell that lay dormant within me.

© 2009 Miss Blue

Abort the Man, Not the Child

She doesn’t want his baby
She wants this baby
Had dreams of getting out of the stereotype
Now she’s just another ghetto statistic
She pretends to be a strong woman but Rosie the Riveter she is not
Can she do it? No she can’t!
She’ll grow old in the project she was raised in
And pray for a better life for her daughter
The life she was working towards
That became just another hustle.

© 2009 Miss Blue

Rascal

She drops the dress to the floor
I make my way through the tangled fabric
Find her warm smooth leg to caress
Weaving in and out of her silkiness as I rub and she smiles
Her bare skin, blue from the glow of the television
As she slips into something more comfortable and takes me to her bed
She climbs in and sighs as I mount her and make my space
Massaging the area I want to embrace
She rubs my head and works her hand down my body
“What a good boy you are.” She rolls me off her
And into the night, I am gone to hunt
But not with a roar so I do not wake her
Instead, I whisper warnings for I am her mighty protector.


© 2009 Miss Blue

In the Garden of Nirvana

It seems so easy in the struggle of good and evil
When there is no conflict
And the imps and the angels live in harmony
Damn free will and the bitch that ate the apple
That put me in this predicament
Of loving the one I hate or hating the one I love
For wanting to be in bed with another
A different lover every night
Or wanting to be with the same lover but in another’s arms
Only to fantasize of what and who I cannot have
And what I long for

© 2008 Miss Blue

Requiem for Skid Row

When I come to pass
I will not leave my voice
What will remain are my words
Etched in lines
That have gone unread
Taken for granted
Until the moss feathers across
The ivy veins layered
In thick vines
Over my last words
Written in granite

© 2008 Miss Blue

Requiem

I won’t shed a tear
On this third year
The shovel in hand
Where the dirt met the land
In plain pine
Boxed in for all of time
Peering in over the open space
“How did they get such a big man in such a small box?”

© 2008 Miss Blue