The enemies that I hate, I engirth them

They will not leave me alone till death

do us part – and I to them will discorrupt

and charge them full with my soul.

Those who choose to defile the living are

As bad as a ventriloquist’s dummy, for they

are as lifeless – until a hand of deceit takes

control, and throws its’ concealed voice.

The love of a wooden body balks all account

As it carries a weapon controlled by someone

rather inhuman – both are rather expressionless

as are their limbs and joints.

Sitting there in their ivory tower, the flex of a wrist

Their dress does not hide them, as-a swimmer in a

nudist colony – swimming through solvent green

water waiting for someone to throw a life-line.

Then in the blink of an eye, they become rowers in

A rowboat; or the rider steeple-chasing on the back

of a carousel horse – always trying to escape through

a looking-glass door in a house of mirrors.

They are as-much laborers as the rest of us, but in

Daily performances, they only look to soothe the

savage beast – don’t bite the hand the feeds you, or

in other words, pull the wool over their blind eyes.

I loosen myself as I wax poetic, sitting here in tight

Fitting jeans and un-buttoned jean shirt, my child

like demur passed away years ago – now a poet; just

doing what I’m doing, watching life go by.

And I sing the ventriloquist’s dummy somewhat off-key

The ink in my pen now beginning to turn scarlet, for you

see I’ve been shot – right through the heart by an inanimate

object of sorts; rather inconvenient wouldn’t you say?

‘2009’ RLS