Friday, September 23, 2016

Lyn #8

No more words
Just our bodies


Daylight bankrupted us
Nighttime plagued us

We will not rally
We cannot cry

I’m not a gamesman
Don’t bother with mind games

His only Son forsaken
The Everlasting Man  


How many more sacrificial lambs
How many more Bo Peeps will have to go without their sheep?


And I want to hold you, but I want a lot of things I’ll never get
And I want to make love to you before twilight again spits in my eye

No more words
Just bodies colliding


Charles Cicirella

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Lyn #6

She said she was small and for some reason that turned me on and I cannot seem to get turned off.
I haven’t paid the electric bill in eons so I’ve adapted and learned to hear in the dark like a bat or coal miner.
Sometimes the writing comes so fast it’s all I can do to get down every word before the inspiration passes like a passenger train moving through the undigested night.
Lyn’s politics hits me right between the eyes and that’s okay because too many people don’t know how to formulate a thought or do and refuse to spill the refried beans.

She put me in my place and after doing so didn’t block me which made me smile from ear to cauliflower ear because her skill at communication is second to none and when she sighs it puts me right back there in the cartoon dust.
We begin as either chickens or eggs depending on who and what you choose to believe in. I’ve learned to hedge my bets early and do not take my chosen status for granted.
Lyn’s intellect leaves me wanting as all great intellects should. I may not agree with what she says, but the way she says it drives me into seditious fits of execrable rage.

I’m impatient, impertinent and irascible to the Granny Smith core and I’ll either learn to play well with others or will continue to live a life of isolation and insubordination.
When she called me on my shit I knew the jig was up and if I didn’t want to lose this Flaming Torch I best get my shit together and stop pushing so many unnecessary buttons.
She informed me I wasn’t out of her league which blew my mind six ways to Sunday and proved to me, once and for all, I don’t know as much as I thought I did.

Charles Cicirella

Monday, September 19, 2016

Lyn #5

I like my coffee black like the Black Panthers
I like my tea white like the White Nationalists
A splattering of cream
Starbucks no one’s true friend

Her intellectual prowess purrs like a mountain lion
Whenever left to my own devises I’m afraid I’ll drowned in the shallow end
Titanic just one more shot across the bow and Leo’s career was never the same
Of course I’ve always been a sucker for a Total Eclipse especially when it also stars David Thewlis whose own career disappeared without a viable trace, the Harry Potter movies don’t count

I woke up and she was gone. In fact she was never there and this whole time I’ve been waxing poetic about a muse I can neither possess nor pursue
She’s what vapor is jealous of once it’s left the lungs and loses its choking intensity
And though I’ve never much minded a trifle from Woody like Shadows and Fog I much prefer his less intrinsically obscure work like Crimes and Misdemeanors

I like my movements to have an actual pulse and for my causes to neither be lost nor too easily found and capitalized upon
I like her because she knows exactly what she does not want and is not afraid to draw her boundaries in permanent marker
A smattering of blood and guts
War and peace the best and worst of friends

Charles Cicirella