Tightrope

Feet treading mute on thin will

I fell, and hit the net below –

To dance that dance, my ledger nill

For my pain – no gain to show.

They told me the ropes constrained me

They said it was Lucifer who fell

Called blind so as not see –

Fear as running blood within their shell.

Weighty their yoke upon my head

To tread that tightrope of time

Equal parts both joy and dead –

A marionette of the strings of mime.

Let your feet still limp on single strands

I will traverse the sky on a net of stars

My feet will tread through promised lands

My freedom bound in a rope burn’s scars.

Lucifer fell because he was proud

Too proud to tread the firmament below

And you – too cowed, you follow the crowd

Too proud – their threads your status quo.

I fell so that the noose slipped away

Tightropes – they turn us to prey

But heaven forbid I speak words true –
Lucifer is holding the strings that bind you.

SK Downes 

~ An Ode to my Generation ~

Some scribblings recently found in the back of an old notebook. Not Byron or even remotely good, but it make me laugh to read it again.

Oh young woman, on the corner's street,

Why does your laugh sound so fake?

Your eyes be long with blackened paint

Your hair be straight, of unnatural make

You squark and strut like that rooster's mate

With ruffled feathers and an injected hide- 

You are like the chickens stuffed with paste

That at my grocery store are daily fried

And consumed, as part of Sunday lunches

Devoured by culture with many munches

Meat broken off and bones thrown away-

My dear, is that not you today?