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Passing Casanova
by Alisa JsThere was something in his laugh that sounded like madness
She shrugged it off with a careful toss of her cheap, brown curls
With one look in his eyes, she could stay there
Right there, forever
But they both knew, deep down, it was never meant to be
Springtime Sally always rode into town
And like a honeybee, hed be gone
Nowhere found
And she, would simply lean across the great and wide
Window seal, knowing they were out there
Waiting, anticipating their next move
Albeit covertly,
Certain no one suspected their degree of cleverness
It was that laugh that sometimes stirred up trouble
In the coolness of those evening sighs
Sitting around, lazily
Hints and ridicules slid by, twisting
She would find herself, splaying
Broken glass on the inside
What an ass, a total jerk
Everyone knew but her
It didnt take a brain surgeon to recognize
Clear as daybreak and new shiny spurs
Whispers sounded in the crowd
She wanted to believe his words, sweet words
Yet every time they raged against her weary
And love sick mind
She fought to see the truth his way
Spat on her own intelligence
And like a dove, fell fast and loud
When the gun blast sounded
Back to hell at warp speed
Wake up, sweet angel, dont fret, dear heart
There is a one for you, perfect in every way
By this youll know and this youll see
Hell bring out the best in your everyday
Not, he who fills your eyes with cries,
Unsatisfied, mortified
Patronized
08/15/2007 Posted on 08/16/2007
Copyright © 2026 Alisa Js
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 08/16/07 at 02:57 AM You never stop amazing me, with the way you make the relentless and the chaotic so much fun to read. |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 08/18/07 at 11:00 AM Wow that really is a well told story. It's not an uncommon story but you certainly seize that anguish that can be stirred in a bad relationship. Great write. |
| Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 08/23/07 at 12:48 PM Alisa, I like the 'cowboy' feel of this poem. You told it bluntly and yet it was filled with emotion. Yes, the one being twisted and turned in all directions, who can't see the face of love but wants too is always the last to know. Beautifully written poem with just the right touch of acid. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 08/27/07 at 04:04 PM ...alisaJs, i thought the same as the others after reading this/it...i love the way you start out and end up...like all loves that begin we see noooooo flaws, then reality settles in and low an behold she/he is just another $#%@/bitch...lovely way you describe something so human and loving annnnd so human and confused...great write, crm |
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