when i...

catefrances

i dont even know
what it is im wondering about
cause i dont even know what it is youre talking about
im sitting here nursing who knows how many drinks its been
but where are you?
cause i cant see you about
but i sure can feel you all around me
the air it breathes like a southern gust from the antarctic
with nothing io stop it but the denial you stake your pride on
can you fee it now
cause im not sure that i can
the noise aorund me
envelopes all my thoughts
and distorts them
but you know that already
and i doubt what it was you came here looking for is what youre leaving with
knowing youve no idea what it was you felt you needed anyway
can you hear me now
can you feel it now
cause i cant feel a god damn thing
and i know its alright cause im not wanting to be saved by you or anyone else
ive given everything there is to give to the one i love
and funny how it works out it wasnt enough
it was never enough
i just wanted and im not sure what i needed
when i lay down..
... was it you?
and so i stand here
resting against this old fig
knowing more than youll ever know...
... yet knowing it aint ever enough

blenderman69

:thumbup: i like it!post more!!!!!

catefrances

come before me
so i can stand behind you
and hold you up
when you fall
the air you breathe is my life force
the blood that flows
my river of life
give to me
what you receive
draw strength from what is given you
and just remember
where it comes from
and choose wisely
to keep us alive

catefrances

the wine glass stands empty on the wooden floorboards. like my last breath it strangles me. i struggle to draw life and it stands there... silent. mocking me... daring me.. yet saying nothing anyone can hear. i would be lying to myself if i said it doesnt own me to some extent. and so, because i dont lie, i say nothing. but remain silent within myself waiting.

blenderman69

ladies and gentlemen....we have a new poet champion

catefrances

cover it all
cover it all in white
cover it all
so it cant be seen
bury it deep
bury it deep within
bury it deep
so it cant be seen
turn your back
ignore it all
carry on
as if it didnt exist
ignorance is bliss
til it demands to be seen
push it down
push it down so deep
push it down
have a nice sleep

catefrances

it waits. unformed but patient. it watches. you come and go and it watches it all. it hears your footfall. it knows your breathing. it smells the desperation, the desire, the anxiety when it goes wrong. it hears the words. it knows theyre all just lies. it hears the cries and sighs waiting for realisation to come. but still it waits.

catefrances

todays day of celebration is my day of mourning. to finally put to rest what i never had.
so i gather up all ill need... your music, the movies, the books by authors i know youve read
i light the single candle standing sentinel, chocolate frosting for its bed
i watch the flame flicker and remember outside the full moon stares knowing all
song after song i remember your words image after image the memory fades
all the strength i have goes to forgetting cause it took nothing at all to make me believe
my trust destroyed fuels the fire lighting the path away from a past best left just there

blenderman69

:thumbup: ..nice!

catefrances

she decided to take a leaf of his book
there was no reason not to
she sat perched at the bar
her skirt riding half way up her thighs
she laughed with the barman
as her foot tapped out a tune only she could hear
her hair fell about her face
the bangles on her wrist jangling
reminded her of times past
the cold air caressed her legs
every time the door opened
it closed with a bang
and she wondered if this time
the dare would be acted upon
finishing her drink she slid off the stool
and sashayed back to the ladies
her hips a swinging
her arse giving the best show of its life
every pair of eyes watched
as the clicking of her heels stopped all conversation
a single woman
in a bar
alone
had to be a lush
or a hooker
or just a whore
fucking for pleasure
not rent

dont you love when theres a drink waiting for you
love it more if it was waiting alone
she smiled as she lifted her arse back onto her perch
thank you
he opened his mouth
she figured to introduce himself
she pressed her fingers to his lips
and shook her head
no
no names
lets just be someone were not tonight
shell be joni he can be graham
he laughed
maybe at the game
maybe cause he got her alias joke
he made her laugh
he touched her skin
and when she crossed her legs
she caught his hand between them
he leant forward and whispered in her ear
she drained her glass
and was standing before he finished the sentence
he followed her out into the night...

chadwick

blenderman69 wrote:

ladies and gentlemen....we have a new poet champion

catefrances has always been a poet champion
new?
um no

old,,,yes

catefrances

he came looking for her
drunk on wine and hepped up on pills
she hesitated to open the door
but she did
he looked her up and down
she stared back, daring him
where you been?
around
he stepped closer and buried his face in her neck
breathing in her scent
she felt his hand on her arse
who you been with?
none of your business
he pulled her to him, his fingers digging into her arse cheeks
it is my business
she pushed him away
or at least tried to
he held tight and she slapped him
he laughed
tough little bitch arent you?
better than being some drunken junky
oh i dunno. it has its benefits
such as?
well like not giving a damn about anything you say
she felt the back of her knees against the bed
his proximity made her shudder
she could smell the booze on his breath
the thought of his hands on her body repulsed her
she remembered back to when this wasnt the case
and wished thats where they were now
she sighed
resting her hand on his cheek and kissing his lips
he closed his eyes and leant into it
why dont you sleep it off and well go riding later?

catefrances

she sits on the window sill
staring down into the alley
it snowed last night
and theres a layer of soft pureness
covering the dirt.
garden chairs are upended
and perched on unused tables.
trees spread their bare branches
longing to be loved
or at least for some cover to smile
they know no one likes them naked
no chidren come to play
the birds fly south
sometimes someone strings coloured lights
but most often theyre forgotten until spring
she watches as steam rises from a building blocks away
the sky is a uniform grey
and black garbage bags line the kerb
a white toupe covering their bald heads
as they wait like old people
to meet their last resting place
she looks back into the room
the form on the bed unmoving
the sheets crumpled at the end of the bed
a pillow held hostage by his head and arms
he snores softly and she looks past him
cigarette packets, empty bottles, burnt matches
an overflowing ashtray, pills, breathmints
dog eared books, a used metrocard, discarded coins and
paper money, half empty bottles a butt floating dead atop
a beer that may be swigged by mistake in a post sleep stupor
she hears the toilet flush in the room next door
she needs to ge out of here
the walls are closing in the roomr rank with bad air
she pulls on her jeans and taking off her shirt throws it on the bed
she misses him by inches
he watches her through one eye
but she doesnt see
shes not looking at him now
and she doesnt want to for a while
he says nothing
she dresses for warmth pulls on her boots
grabs her coat. her bag
and walks out the door

catefrances

1010011010

catefrances

i look around me
and feel a sadness,
the absence of friends gone
a fence rose up
and shut them out
sometimes i feel so lonely
im not sure why im still around
i want it like it used to be
but i know thats just a dream
i write their names inside my mind
and smile at memories
so even though you may no longer see them
when im here, theyre here with me.

catefrances

she weeps at the loss
of something she never really had
is it for the time consumed or
time just wasted
her waking hours get drowned
in thoughts shes told
arent worth the grief
she knows but it seems
getting fucked in the head
by stupid men makes her stupid too

catefrances

she stands half way across the room
gazing at her portrait
fine lines and colour wash
harking back to the work of another
she likes what she sees
but shes not sure
if its for this portrait or for the influence

he sits in his chair
the wicker worn in places
he watches her gazing at herself
her fine lines mark the space
her hair hangs in a black sheet
she shifts her weight
and he watches her arse settle

she speaks then turns
she watches him watching her
they play this game
each wanting the other
but neither wanting to make the first move
its a tease they both know it

the rain outside beats time
with their breath and he stands
she smiles as he comes toward her
the tshirt, his tshirt barely covers
what it is he wants is her
and she knows as she always does
as he touches her that this between them
is his muse. not her...
...but this.

catefrances

she watches him sing his songs of melancholy. words and music to mend a broken heart. she knows the story. everybody does. he seems lost in his own world.. only occasionally looking up with anything that you could call recognition. she finishes her drink. leaving the ice melting as she makes her way to the door. the cold autumn night hits her in the face and she pulls her hood over her head. it is a dark night. the moon is elsewhere and she can see only a slight sprinkle of stars. she moves away from the entrance, half in the shadows to be left alone. she watches with amusement as the underage tarts try their game on the bouncer. hes annoyed but amused, just like her. he knows theyre oportunists. he knows they come here only for the story they can tell tomorrow. shes lost in her own thoughts when she hears a shuffle behind her. she turns on guard and half smiles when he does. she offers him a smoke and surprisingly he takes it. shes not quite sure what to say... if she should say anything at all. but she cant help herself.. she has to say something... its what she does. im sorry for what you went through. he says nothing, just holds the smoke out to her. she takes a long drag. closing her eyes and holding the smoke in her mouth for as long as she can. its a game she plays with herself. shes momentarily lost in her own world again. when she opens her eyes she can see he hasnt moved. hes watching her. his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. shes never seen such a serious face. she doesnt know why, but she reaches out and traces her fingers along his brow. you want to get out of here?. he answers with a deep and husky yes.

catefrances

they sit opposite each other in some diner. he nursing a coffee. black and unsweetened. for her a pot of tea. loose tea. no bags. also unsweetened. when he offers her the sugarbowl she declines telling him shes a purist. so you grow your own then? she smiles and nods. i dont normally just go off with strange women she never thought he did. besides im not all that strange. he raises his eyebrow. she takes a sip from her cup. so tell me why you did go off with me

you seemed like someone id like to know

and you got that from me sharing my doob with you?

he looked her square in the eye

lets just say im a good judge of character

she said nothing. remaining silent but looking like she was mulling something over inside her head.

do you want some pancakes? i feel like pancakes

clearly silences with strangers were something he wasnt comfortable with

yeah sure. why not

why not indeed

the waitress came over, took their order and disappeared.

youre easy to look at you know

i guess i should be flattered

not good with compliments?

no. ive just heard it before

ah. so you think im insincere?

i dont know you well enough to know that

and if you did youd know im not. ever. at least i dont tend to be

are you a writer?

she laughed at his question.

why. need help with your songs?

he caught a laugh in his throat and thought he was saved by the arrival of their food. she started humming a song as she poured maple syrup over her pancakes.

trying to drown 'em are you?

i happen to like maple syrup

yes. i can see that

she poked her tongue out at him and started eating.

catefrances

she saw him again 3 days later. and that night they spent the night together. but there was another woman. someone elses woman. she was dead but during the following weeks it was clear she was still around. she watched him as he struggled to free himself of the spectre. he was fighting a losing battle. she could see this. perhaps he could too but didnt want to admit it to himself let alone to her. or maybe he enjoyed the struggle against the waves he was drowning under. cause at times he seemed mighty comfortable with his silences and drinking. it sure came through in his writing. when he said he was going north and asked her to join him she said no. he shrugged and left her behind.

catefrances

she got on with her life in his absence. what else could she do? she wrote and painted. spent time with her friends. did everything she usually did. she even went camping in the desert. three days with no phone. and she didnt even hesitate. part of her wanted him gone. but another part of her just wanted him. when she got back home her machine was flashing like a bomb just about to detonate. she heard the voices of her brother, 2 of her sisters, her agent paulie and twice she heard the voice of a stranger. a male stranger. it introduced itself and then gave her bad news. hed been in an accident and was asking for her. after nearly 2 months he was asking for her. she picked up the machine and threw it across the room.