On a Golden Cord
(about "doublespeaker rhyme": line in regular text
and line in italics directly beneath it are sung
simultaneously, each panned hard to one speaker)
On a golden cord, once worn, now shorn,
safely kept with bread and pocket lint.
Not of its own accord, but broken for what its promise meant.
And so she said, "Now it's yours again...
And how you look tonight!
So polite, yet resigned, with wounds dressed and feelings put away.
Full of patient replies... But how can I trust a word you say?
So spill away.. and please, dear, you have no more secrets saved.
I'm sorry, but I went through your mail today..."
Immerse the moulted form in holy foggy night,
Returned a golden cord, this sole belonging signed.
emerged beside a pauper's grave from dreams.
Leave early, time's up, cross your date released.
The wraith surveys the widow on his pyre;
The jailer waves a bit, though uninspired,
torched the bellyaches on suttee.
for the well-behaved on the wing.
Had I grown dispirited in all this act,
As I soak in spirits amidst wanted ads--
by disparate elements, like kindling gathered up?
my desperate ailments tied in this shambler's dusk--
Guilt pardons the spectre taunting twin streetlamps;
still hardened against her fawning, misty glance,
hatchet man who's burnt enough.
past this avenue Möbius.
But a precious gift as a shedded chain,
But the present slips past a debt unpaid,
has lain to rust, one more cruel memento.
that slays you once before you'll let it go.
Then if life were real, not just drunken play...
And if night were peeled off the front of day...
But what do I know?
But what do I know?
Just that those playful pups with their hateful fangs
knew the restraint of those born as hunters,
while this supposed dove chafing in his cage,
just learned he's pecked to death his precious other.
But should it matter since you loved her once,
when you really thought the world that simple?
And who's to judge how much you cared because
the gesture then was just a little more worth working for?...
Now the jester teeters towards...
the taunting, streetswept dawn.
Thoughts spawned then dropped, of gathering up the suttee dust.
Some things just come to loss:
this bracelet, its lustre; me, my lust.
Or was I once, something not what I've become?
Have I just killed the thing I love?
Of fateful thoughts hung on a gilded clasp,
Once navels locked upon the wilted grass,
which this Ubermensch reavowed he'd come to snip.
digging through her innie, the outie snug-to-fit.
And a smarting head throbs once his brain's warring halves,
Then the guardian knot of this frayed cord detached,
each attack with the proper fist.
leaked the bandage upon her wrist.
A sober plea finds the present you,
The former me might have left a clue
my alias drunk, in panic and starved for leads.
by trail of crumbs, which vanished as bartered feed.
And will she label lies oaths we vowed we could,
Until we strangle cries knowing how we stood,
with Garry's sole witness relieved?
when buried whole with the deceased.
So a plan devised divides a slave once wed;
Though, the master mind reminds us, straight ahead,
a bid for greatness' sake, he's sold on as holy war.
a bigger plate awaiting nulls one half full before.
When longed by nothing you then fight the best,
And fond sighs of reunion I must rest;
for kohl-eyed houris as reward.
forego like jewelry that she wore.
Thanks for your support!