whimsicalgentleman

A space for my poetic whimsy and general musings.

[sillifella]

p&p

you love me

so dearly

i place my head

in your jaws

just for you

to kiss me

your heart strong

to resist it,

the temptation

to bite

[sillifella]

first and second, only together

sitting on soft grass, looking up at god, and god unblinking stares back, and from his divine hand-shaped eyes, he offers no mercy nor any cruelty, only observation, for he knows will soon be with him.

the stars are scattered across the sky, thrown like chicken-feed by god every night, and the second speaks to him, “you think we’ll turn into stars?”, and the cowboy doesn’t know. maybe in another world, the first and second could have had a family, been a constellation.

the cowboy looks at his lover. and he looks back. and they both think for a moment, begging the god they each hold in their trembling hands, that he will be swift and merciful, as the sound of two hymns ring through the prairie.

[sillifella]

father o mine

i hope he is not so cruel

to me when i die as he

has been to me while i live

this father of mine he of

divine flesh and bone

i hope that i can lay

my soul to rest in

a gentle flower field

or amongst star strewn

navy night skies

i hope when judgment comes

that he will look down upon

me and say that i did good

and that he’s proud of me

and i hope most of all,

i hope that one day

the thought of living will

be much easier than the

thought of letting go

[sillifella]

eclipse

why does the moon

get to change so often

and nobody bats an eye, not

at their frequent drastic transformations

but when i wish to change any bit of myself

i am scorned with the heat of ten thousand suns

[sillifella]

november

in my dreams, where we are

together, you kiss me like

fire, sucking in all the air

in the room, as hot ash

fills my heart and clogs

my senses, making me

your lovely mess.

[sillifella]

angel

and when you come to me, wings

torn and scarred, with crimson red

i will look upon you, then ask,

is this not what you truly expected?

did you feel your strength of

desire would outweigh

the inevitable?

and when you beg and plead,

insisting want and ignorant to your ineptitude,

i will remind you of the past, that awful truth,

the original lucifer, you, in another form.

how often will you reshape yourself–

will your hands always be stained with clay?

and how many times must you be

cast out from heaven before you

realize that you are not wanted

neither on earth, that planet, nor

here, amongst the others?

your hope will return, i’m sure

but in your heart, you know,

your fundamental flaws,

you will always feel.

[sillifella]

grief over the self

unicorn, you purest one,

when did your fall from grace occur?

how long ago was it that your

horn broke, your magic withered,

your eyes become grey?

when did you loose your sense of

wonder and whimsy?

[sillifella]

banana

impatience

i know, is undesirable

i’m told to be complacent

to wait longer, just a bit

that it’s not ready

that i am not ready

but how i do yearn

for the flesh of that

unripe fruit

[sillifella]

white-tailed 2

how silly of you,

to find comfort in the car

to find safety in the thought of it

all being okay, and how stupid

of you, to let yourself become

roadkill, on the cold and hard

nighttime pavement.

[sillifella]

white-tailed

you dream of antlers

how silly of you wide eyed doe

your death will come in the form of

a righteous car speeding at night

and you will sit and stare

and be hit by it.

[sillifella]

Fisher-price Chatter Phone

your phone line leads

right back to you and the cord

sprouts from your head

and you’re the only person on the call

the only person that will ever be on the call

and just how long will you keep

talking to yourself before you notice?

and will five hundred years

go by before you realize?

how long before your

breathing fills the call

and then silence?

[sillifella]

decomposed dove

i am starved, a rabid thing, malnourished,

hungry for joy, yours the most.

so i eat your flesh but it

tastes sour and fetid.

like an abomination,

an awful flavor.

and the flies

know it.

as do i,

the truth.

you are rotten

and no amount of

perfume will change that.

you are as you have been for

the past how many years, how many

times you have looked and thought, ruined.

[sillifella]

i, dog

i wish i could love myself

like how a dog loves.

unconditionally and

happily, no matter

how many times i

am hurt.

i hope like a dog.

loyal and willing

to wait long hours

wishing for the love

i once had, for old joy.

i chase my own tail,

in an attempt to pass

the time. because maybe

if i am too overwhelmed to

think properly, then life will

be that much easier.

[sillifella]

nails

currently my nails

are painted white

like fresh snow but

they do not feel cold

against my skin like

they used to

i don’t feel the urge

to claw and bite my

pale fingers, to try

to rip off my feminity

to erase that part of me

it’s strange because i

haven’t been able to

feel content in being

like this in a good while

long i’ve forgotten

how it used to feel

[sillifella]

prometheus

i steal fire for myself

yet not for you.

and this action angers

you to your core, the idea,

the thought I may have the same

warmth from the fire as you do,

enrages you like no other.

is my flesh, my blood and bone,

are they not worthy? are they not

to receive the same respect

yours and your kin’s do?

or perhaps, in your mind, they are,

but not how i feel about them.

you call yourself a panjandrum,

the next god, the next ruler,

but you care not for my wants.

you care not for me, liar.

only what once was, who has

long been buried under earth,

dead and skeleton.

you string me up against a rock

tell me it's for my own good

then your words come and devour

my liver every time we speak

a cruel and unjust fate.

you’ve made me a prometheus,

always suffering for you.

[sillifella]

absolute bliss

there are moments,

in which i forget the

truths of who i am.

and for those few,

fleeting and sparse,

i am happy in my

existence for but

a joyous spell.

[sillifella]

Creation

i want to make my body mine,

to make it a home.

i want to be my own god

for myself, not for you.

nor for your “eve” outside,

for me, for adam inside.