In the dimly lit street
a rusty blade in hand
my aorta throbs
in the endless torture
of forever alone
waiting for Our Lady
to illuminate the
thirty three dogs wailed without harmony,
nearby, their break dancing trainer oblivious to
anything that moved in slow motion and without colour,
as one location became another, my guardian angel
watched me cry, because I ate a banana
that wasn’t mine, I hid your keys, but you went anyway:
across the way, a little girl clung to a door knob,
flooding the house, with tears from emotional threats,
next door, another girl celebrated her twelfth birthday,
while police arrested her mother, naked, but for a slip,
even fire ants burning my legs, while no one was looking,
was better than torment, when left on my own,
I found company, with an artist, that had a lobotomy,
she couldn’t talk but taught with her pictures,
there was that woman with Alzheimers that walked,
the streets with talk of hiking in mountains that didn’t exist.
Tumultuous cacophony ensues;
When anyone dares to escape,
Fear, anger, happiness and pain,
Of the labyrinth.
Rewrite the rules of your life;
Use courage to spend time with yourself,
And a commodity called:
Map out what is inside;
That produce outcomes,
Impacting those around you.
When the labyrinth gets hard;
And then go some more.
Trust that the future, is not the tool,
You use to escape the present.
Learn that you don’t need to escape,
Today is enough,
Because you might not be here tomorrow.
My heart –
Like Frankenstein’s head,
Patched up again and again.
Enacted on hearts,
Of those we love.
Always a happy ending;
Theatre rarely mimics life!
– L.J. Lenehan –
The song of regret captivates me,
sadness in my soul,
recovering from the singe,
of my latest pain.
It is neither,
a resting place,
moving in and out of purgatory,
like the flight of a bird,
through the winds of life.
– L.J. Lenehan –