Solitary

It always starts off this way;
Locked away in my space I listen,
And I feel. I let the silence I hear
Rape me, coax my soul to her altar,
And leave me with aches and in pain.
I feel dirty afterwards, like it’s my fault
I am all alone, easy pickings for the
Incubus laying in wait for me, every time.
And I am to Blame; I make my anxiety
Intoxicating. I hold that always busy
Neon sign that says; “Come get me, sweety!” Over my head.
I ask for it. If only I would join the busy bees,
And live my life by clicks, I’d be happy.
If only I’d sweep my feelings under my rug,
If I just act tough, I would be smug;
I would feign some aggression and become a man.
And I wouldn’t be in my space, waiting for her to come again.
I would not be confined to my limited devices,
Making my empty space welcome the cold, black hole that is me…
No essence, nor backbone to hold me steady,
But four walls, transparent like nothing, and just a bed I lay on
For our regular sessions, while I watch the world in my confinement.
With my wise words written in ink to my side
My comfort and my reprimand…;

“You live in a cage;
That’s what your world feels like.
When they meet a sage,
Who’s numb to the world’s hike.
They don’t see the bars
Blocking escape; the breeze,
She blows heat from mars
For their blind minds to freeze.”

Need

I

Our words are always fickle,

Our feelings never settle.

Aiming to please our sickle

Hearts that have no mettle.

II

Give me wisdom so I will not meddle,

To know my place among the those who fondle

Love as a bundle 

Of wishes that forever, never dwindle.

III

Give me patience so I will not tussle

With roaming hearts that love to stumble.

My numbness will make me grumble,

But the firmness will leave me humble.

IV

I know now why I am no hurdle.

The loose ones do need a handle,

To hold onto, they are more fragile,

I let them know that they are agile.

V

But I too have ways to settle.

To move east when refused as a handle.

VI

One learns words hold no valour

And ignores those who speak of honour

 

     LEBRECHT-HITLEBB

Need

I

Our words are always fickle,

Our feelings never settle.

Aiming to please our sickle

Hearts that have no mettle.

II

Give me wisdom so I will not meddle,

To know my place among the those who fondle

Love as a bundle 

Of wishes that forever, never dwindle.

III

Give me patience so I will not tussle

With roaming hearts that love to stumble.

My numbness will make me grumble,

But the firmness will leave me humble.

IV

I know now why I am no hurdle.

The loose ones do need a handle,

To hold onto, they are more fragile,

I let them know that they are agile.

V

But I too have ways to settle.

To move east when refused as a handle.

VI

One learns words hold no valour

And ignores those who speak of honour

 

     LEBRECHT-HITLEBB

The Sonnet that Spake Heartbreak.

On this lush crag once stood,

Oak of heaven, born of Jove.

Its roots, before this mood,

Grew hope no gale could move.

Then sudden oak death came,

As a wench after man’s ill.

She swooned and made it lame,

It buckled, could not still.

It did come down with a shrill.

“Father lord!”, it did wail.

But she came with much thrill

“My Holy Mary!”, he would hail.

And the spell she left was broken.

And her spell of love had spoken.

Protecting me…

Don’t look…

DON’T YOU DARE LOOK!

That’s right, keep walking.

And avoid the awkward glances,

Be awkward and keep moving.

Don’t worry…

Don’t you dare feel SORRY!

Don’t feel sorry you’re lonely while I am protecting….

I AM protecting- I am saving you.

From what you ask??

FROM PEOPLE!

Yes, from them, from knowing them.

They’re Savages. They’re Judges.

They’re hangmen on crutches!!!

They aren’t good for you.

They will murder you! They will torture you!

They will just rape you!!!

And you… you’ll just write another sorry poem

For the pain in your heart.

You will stand waiting for the tear at the isle

You will usher her to her meet her maker

To have and to hold her, that fragile heart you love….

Whenever you’re hit with harsh words on the sly

That they’re normal and you’re;

Abnormal…

You’ll curl up and bawl on print

Whine in abstract and with hints

For attention and a couple more hits

I’m saving you

I’m saving you from all of that again…

So keep walking

Keep walking Son.

 

LEBRECHT|HITLEBB©2016||MADPOET’SDIARY||

Sinner’s Ranting

Life’s greatest mystery, to me,
is how we live happy with illusions as means.
Values are bloated with pomp that seem free,
carefree, our lives mask the angst of being free.
Freedom is a myth,
a Minotaur dancing through a cell of revolving doors,
knowing his path to hope
but trapped in it’s endless spin.
We see Hell on our plate, we can’t stare at its heat,
so blindfolding our minds is the fad saving us from our sins.
We pray to our faith to do something about Fate,
then flirt with Fate to test good ole faith, just like humans should do.
We’ll support the misguidance
as long as we can call her mysticism.
It’s a beautiful thing,
just purge all our choices and guide our ways in a line.
Oh God, save us.
Save us or just save me.

SINNER’S RANTING

LEBRECHT|HITLEBB©2016||CURSES AND CRITIQUE

A spectre with love

A Spectre came, 

rousing the person lodging in my nogging.

He beckoned my tenant,

who sighed to berate his tyrant.

But then he marveled,

wanting nothing more than to reach out

and leave his room of logic,

to seek madness from his shell, for magic.

His latent desire,

an escapade with a spirit not right,

stumbled in with sensations to rekindle  

the romance his pragmatics lack.

So he skips out, my savvy.

Hand in hand with his new-found cherie

to tumble bareback  and far from all distraction

never to return, lost in the wind of passion.

Then he returns,

crawling back to me every night.

seeking refuge where it’s right

his winded shrieks give me fright

Battered by the cold

searching for a whole.

 Begging for the shell he damned

yet hoping his feeling comes around.

I wait in the night

wait for the spectre to come for his right

for the tenant to run from his true light

for love to come calling for the night.

Lebrecht|Hitlebb 2016