Carousel…

Spin the record
33 rpm –
Time to tell the children
the carousel has fled .

 Don’t let them cry
in curds of thick deposits
only the naive – still choose to  believe
in all those happy ever afters.

Those who say:
children should believe in fairy tales –
then they  –
never read the script…

Poppy February 17th 2014 ~xx~

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No Kissing…

She shed her glory
like a tree in autumn fall.
Painted ruby mouth – blushing
over painted sallow skin.
Was it for love – no – never.
A misconstrued secluded sin –
maybe,  but not  anymore.
She provided  they took,
let your own puritan thoughts
put to bed this ageless act.
It was hers to peddle;
though never knowingly under sold.
Always fixed by the price of the street
with her back firm against the wall.
The familiarity of urgency
sold– but always with no kissing.

Featured in Barebacklit.com

 

Poppy ~xx~

Let Her Eat Cake…

She stops, sharp stiletto stance,
tracing her staccato steps before
twisting her hips, resoundingly inwards.

The ages of a woman –
yet what of them she asks?
Outside that time shall mark her
down –
Pastel outlines – with eyes that no longer denote
her primary shades of youthful play.

Belief restricted; bordering mundane
all outside edges, stained –
biting into yet another
mouthful; of her depressing,
comfort eating cake.

 

Poppy February 2104 ~xx~