Another Dime Store Prince

Another dime store prince
living in a nineteenth century
ice box.

Empty aluminium clamours in the night.
He’d already packed my things
but wanted my truths.

Frozen by fear, my truths are muted,
frost bitten, one more hurt
under the avalanche of snow.

The reflection of the city night, questions:
why now?
But in a world full of nows

there are no answers
and my dime store prince, so gentle,
so adamant to protect his solitary fortress –

he fears spending what he has not got
I wish this might have ended
different to the rest.

-L.J. Lenehan1220597235-m

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Dancing angrily,
the air of the chimney – whips
surly flames

mocking tales of fairy endings
creations of the devil
tempting us all

to one more day
of wishes, suffering, happiness
trivial mysteries.

-L.J. Lenehan-
turf+fire+framed

Fall again, nature’s efficiency satisfies me
with the consistency of sunsets I no longer watch
still I might like to see one more

the crisp air stinging my face
leaves crackling underfoot
air expanding in my lungs

feeling again, one last time
a regretful reeling of every mistake
every love misunderstood, every path not taken

the sensation of winter’s loss
sends a chill through my core
of the constant anticipation of spring.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Apprehensive gesticulations of winter
appear, from out of no where
with waves of anxious courage.
Charming cherry blossoms
have long blown away,
leaving lonesome sticks

to reminisce, and
prepare the eulogy,
entitled: ‘Ode on a Perilous Winter.’

– L.J. Lenehan –

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