She Sleeps With The Light On…

. . . Just in case,

The night is still,

There’s not a sound,

Except the rumbling of a distant truck,

Which propels her into a memory;

It was of the time when she had her babies,

A marriage bed full of passion, youth & hope,

It was a time long before these lean times.

 

She sleeps with the light on because . . .

The phone might ring;

The Angel of Death in Her chariot,

Has swept down again, mercilessly and,

In her cruel and twisted way has,

Extracted another of her loved ones.

 

She sleeps with the light on,

So that the memory of her lost loves,

Doesn’t overwhelm her,

Because they can’t – you know – if you have the light on,

The memory of the contour’s of their bodies,

Their gentle or wild thrusts,

Their whispered indulgences,

All held at bay.

 

She sleeps with the light on,

To stop the snoring in the empty room,

The footsteps on the hallway boards,

The growling from the ceiling,

The ghosts remain invisible and can’t see you,

Or hurt you with the light on.

 

She sleeps with the light on,

So that if she wakes with a night terror,

She will instantly see her lovely things around her,

And, after some time,

Gain some comfort and soothe herself back to sleep.

 

She sleeps with the light on,

Because she doesn’t know what awaits her in the black dimension;

Dreams of babies long gone,

Lovers lost, souls removed from her life by death,

Quick as a flash and still half in slumber,

She can grab her pencil & paper,

And jot down the rhymes – such as this one – as they come to her at 3am.

umbr

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is anybody out there?

She’s watching over me;

My baby girl who thinks,

That because I disposed of her,

That I despised her.

 

She watches over me until I’m bones on the ground

girl and eye

 

 

Not Getting Any Younger:

This alone time;

It never lasted long,

Tick, tick, tick,

Says the clock

That’s right!

Time to inflict herself,

On another unsuspecting:

You don’t run from,

Four weddings & a marriage,

Without there being,

Some kind of atonement,

The past was catching up with her,

Karma doesn’t stay buried in the ground,

She tells herself she doesn’t need him,

(to keep him safe),

But there’s that damn ticking again,

And time doesn’t grow on trees,

You know!

time and tree

 

 

The Test:

She¬†knows it’s a test!

He’s lying there,

In the next room,

And somehow she must resist:

Throaty nothings whispered,

Into her ear,

And that pelvic thrust…

But no, no!

She must resist,

Drowning in her desires,

But this time she would pass the test.

girl0987uty

 

 

Retribution:

His eyes bore into hers,

Just for a second,

And in that moment,

She saw his fantasy of her,

– how he wanted her.

 

But divine retribution,

Always has its way,

And she would not,

Make him a victim,

Of her love;

Just another casualty.

 

So she released him,

Back to domestication,

Quite like a balloon.

man0976

 

Fling me please:

Tiny morsels of hope spreading,

Through her entire being,

And Psychics weren’t wrong,

Were they?

Two more weeks,

Only two more weeks of this misery!

And then she would meet him,

The man of her dreams,

And, oh, if only,

She had a dollar for,

Every time she’d believed them!

Where else was hope to come from?

If she could fling herself through time!

But alas, that was how her life had vanished thus far.

she wishes to turn back the hands of time to when he was hers - loving her, making love to her, writing poetry to her mona