Monday, May 7, 2012

Flight, Fight, and Bite

You booked the night flight and were on your way,
Forsook my sad plight without proper stay,
Ran out with a reed in your hand singing
Who knows what! beads in your other, clinging
To whatever it was! A mere fable
From the depths of the silver screen table,
That table where the good is brought to shame
So that actors may gain glory and fame.
You go to far to call it glamorous,
I'll show you for taking hammers to us!
You're off to another world, the new start,
So you said to me; you poured out your heart
And said you wanted it all to be clean,
Would forgo everything else that was mean...

What do you mean by the meanness in things,
By calling them the great harness of Kings?
You made us out to be Thundering trolls,
Forgetting about the Blundering bulls
That you resemble; O for Hallowed Ground
To walk in bare feet, a fallow bed, sound
Roof over your head. Yet little and small
Are all of these things; you'll twiddle, then fall
From your precious tree! like apples and pears,
For calling our show a Rat pole at fairs!
You talk of growth a small sapling of white,
But we'll take the cheers, O Darling alight!
What man will take you to be his fair bride?
With a hypocrite will he have allied.

Why should you have had apologizes made
When they are but a mere Hollow wheeze! Staid 
You only to pour out clangorous breeze
With all your fanfare! A Barbarous sneeze.
Yet I blame myself, for dark eyes of lead
From nights of fights, calls of Park flies ahead!
We walked Misty waters on a river
Talked of flimsy fathers; lawns cut sliver's
Of what we had. Gone away are your smiles,
No longer to dawn at day; tar more tiles
Have we in this most Fickle argument.
We tried, each one, to tickle commitment 
Out of the mouth's of babes, as we thought we
Were; but both now seem to drift to the cold sea.

                                Flight, Fight, and Bite, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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