what happens when you trawl through m4m looking for hired help-A Poem

in an old house in forestville that was covered in vine
lived a man and his sweet pooch on five acres divine

vacation came and the man went away
leaving two–one an old friend and the other, high-spun—in charge
to take care of things each day
a dog and a home and the chores of the land
and unclear, with uncertainty of who was told what
so it has begun, territorial pissing contests
which no one can win and neither can stand…

in less than 48 hours
harsh words have been spoken
from the lip of a bottle to speed’s spinning hand
all is broken
apart
as discourse and bad blood
now permeates
through the trees

as its been now for weeks, maybe months, who really knows
what once felt like “family” has been tossed and discarded
in favor of the damaged, the speed freaks, the cocks
all more highly regarded and
given greater importance
than those who’ve never wanted or needed to be paid
for the complicated simplicity of true caring
(not after his cash, his “stuff” or the promise to get paid to get laid)

in an old house in forestville
that was covered in vine
one by one, they’ve dropped by the wayside
the old, true friends, all in a line
judging, yes! but with great sadness
they can no longer  hang on
to the dream of our true “family” forever
the pipe-dream now gone…

and so they pray and they hope for the best
for their friend
as they say farewell
to his heart and his acres, his home now spin out of control
into orbit each day, as beauty struggles for light
amid such dark energy..
from hollow eyeballs spun to the heavens
(the same as the one before)
another devil came knocking
and blindly, he was let in the door
handed the keys to the kingdom
(just like the one before)

now they can only pray for his safety
for their old friend, so dear
as they mumble the words
he cannot stand to hear
but they can no longer watch
as the goodness of what used to be
drains away, sucked out by these replacements
they can only wish an old friend
gets what he needs for his remaining days
a tattered blanket to warm him
and woven of  his choosing
from the lonely, unreal trash heap
of users and takers, those hopelessly spinning
tangled in the twisted arms of speed…

“sometimes, you have to LOVE people from a distance and give them the space and time to get their mind RIGHT before you let them back into your life…”

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About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i write...to release the gamut of emotion...to tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
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One Response to what happens when you trawl through m4m looking for hired help-A Poem

  1. Karmanot says:

    The weasels infest Toad Hall……. sad, the karma of ‘Dad.’

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