that line between desire and deed
is mine to sit aside the mounting greed
that tortures me while trying to sleep
and keeps me counting inches and feet
once panicked and paused
befriending the walls
with the first mention of the line
the only division has been time
darling
i can fake anything
i can play this part and i assure you, i can simulate heart
real enough that you’ll believe
something fortunate has happened to me
standing before walls boundless to the sky
reaching forward, the masses comply
with dreams as sick as these
and schemes as thick as these
that objective and purpose sit silenced in the hall
and what’s defective and worthless has polluted all
effective measures once considered after proposed
and the selected as gifted sit comatose
imprisoned by theories of what needs to be
positioned in line for the guillotine
here are our daughters, now here are their heads
they’ve embarrassed their fathers
made messes of their beds
turn these revolutionaries over
they can’t sit quiet
and they can’t stay sober
leave the witches with the nuns
when the temple burns, tell me does the saint or sinner run
screaming from the fiery pews undone
frightened of what is to come
impending death poses no threat here with me
fantasies are safe with me
they are comforted by visions skewed
and the forbidden fruits that they’ve pursued
do not make a mockery of the worlds you once saw
do not begin to ignore familiar voices when they call
you will pay for this
disbelief
here is humiliation, epic
a gift to you from me
standing before these walls
there’s something crucial that you aren’t comprehending
until the sky falls and then
there will be no condolences for the sending
to you, my friend
you’ve done it again
cowardly cornered yourself just in case
you and your fears come face to face
it’s a shame you might settle and breed
the weak are the last thing we need
in this war you choose to ignore exists
but your guilt will one day itch and persist
and i promise you, you will regret all of this
the line between desire and deed
is what separates you from me

Wow

woah.....whos foot behind your head...damn girl....J/K

Hahaha...thank you for the responses 1956 and crazy.

Although, I should note that this poem has absolutely NOTHING to do with my feelings today. Putting it in context, I wrote this shortly after my marriage went toes up. I was a pissy, pissy girl.

So today your a ok hunky dorey?

I'm crazy super phenomenally awesome!

Okey dokie artichokey . . im bored and want to kick someone in the testicals

the line across this page
divides nothing above and nothing below
a separation
whose existence begs to be removed

or ignored
by those like her
whose crayons spectacularus
laugh
uproariously
in riot
at lines
like these

Lol...there you go, bringing your testicle discussion to my sweet and sensitive poem

damn I suck . . I will take my foot somewhere else =P . . in the meantime post another poem . . wait a minute maybe it was your poem that made me wanna kick some nuts ? ever wonder

I will not take the blame for your violent tendencies

I am not VIOLENT . . I am just bored . . I never said I would kick anyone in the nads without their prior approval

Boredom makes you want to kick someone? lol...and who would actually consent to such a thing?

Perhaps I'm finding out things about you that I never wanted to know

hey if the guys on jackass can do it why can't i ??

Do whatever makes you happy, dear

Sweet . . I am gonna cry myself to sleep tonight listening to al green and otis redding and If I bum up the courage for a trip to the store I gettin a bottle of wine too

Find yourself a FINNNEEEE woman in Aberdeen to share it with

LOL nice . . not happening . . I don't think I am ready for that

No one is