Author Archives: blitzken

MY FATHER, THE THIEF

Like a tiny little thief I took the way that you walk,
Copied bits of your style,
Took the way that you talk,
Took every little bit that my tiny heart could steal,
But it took more than forty years till I could manage to feel,
What you took from me,

At only nine years old well what was a boy to do,
You pulled the rug from under,
I tried to build a bridge to you,
With a box under your arm you shook my hand and said goodbye,
Never once looked back to see me as I lay there and cry,
You did not want to see,

What did that box have in it, cuz I never got to know,
The things that you took with you,
On that day you chose to go,
It must have been filled with moments we’d never get to share,
And whatever mask you used to help show you never care,
And my security,

Well I’ve a box inside me, and it’s been there since that day,
Tried many times to open it,
But then locked it back away,
Every once in a while I could take a peek inside,
But now I’ve found the keys to rip the damned lid open wide,
And I’m fucking angry!

Angry for abandonment and angry that you lied,
Angry for the way things went,
And that you never even tried,
Angry for the holes you left for me to fill myself,
Angry cuz your feelings are still locked upon some shelf,
Angry for the fact I never got what I deserved,
Childhood was torn from me, I was poorly served,
Angry cuz my hunger for you kept my feelings caged,
When the simple truth is long ago I should have been enraged,
Angry that my longing interfered and that I let it,
Angry because forty years on you still don’t fucking get it,
I’m Angry!

NAKED PAIRS

Always naked

Being naked?
I must confess,
Don’t really care,
It’s only flesh,
Stripping off,
Ho hum, ho ho,
That’s between
You and your ego,
But being who
You really are
That’s a bigger task
By far,
Being as clear
As you are able,
Discarding fear,
All cards on the table,
Your humanness
Out on display
Showing that we’re one,
At the end of day,
In fact I believe
We have a duty
To open up,
Let others see,
That our worries, fears,
Are not unique,
So many things,
Of which we don’t speak,
Are common,
Although never stated,
It’s my duty,
To be always naked.

They Think They’re Naked

They’re out there
Lurking in the light
So unaware
Of their true plight
They post bad taste
Removed from feeling
Then watch
As the “likes” hit the ceiling
For we’re jaded
Can’t tell dirt from earth,
Our “likes” have
Absolutely no worth,
But we hit the button anyway,
So stressed out,
It feels like play,
Like it’s relaxation,
Although not really,
Then the realization,
That actually,
We’re apathetic,
Just one big bore,
But the oblivious
Just keep coming back for more.

DIGNITY

Here they are,
For some perhaps the bottom,
For others not that far,
But for not a single one of them is it a dream come true,
Instead we’re the place they’ve surfaced,
When those dreams have fallen through,
Sometimes indeed through choices,
They should have made instead,
Or perhaps through voices,
No choice put into their head,
They’ve mostly battled hard in a world
They feel is out to beat them,
The only difference we can make,
Is how we accept and meet them,
Not with “I know what’s best for you,
Listen close to what I say,
I guarantee you’ll make it through,
If you’ll do things my way”
But rather with a caring eye,
A direct human connection,
Working to draw forth the “I”,
And establish self-reflection,
Sure with boundaries and guidance
Some behaviour to deflect,
But most of all with kindness,
And a huge dose of respect,
To build up precious dignity,
And a feeling of self-worth,
So they feel treasured and valued,
Perhaps more so than since their birth,
Empowering them, so they can grow,
And perchance a new life start,
But to mostly stand beside and show,
We share a human heart.

PURGING

The day before I exit your life
For good…for the last time…
I get sick, extremely sick
Body wracked in pain and ache
Leaving me first thinking, no,
This must be some mistake,
Not now, not when I have boxes to haul,
Furniture to carry.
I fight it at first,
But then I realize,
It’s the breaking point,
My body is ready to reannoint itself,
But first it must purge itself of you.
Purge itself of the twisted thoughts
the complications
Manipulations
And the selfish meanness.
No, no, no. This is no coincidence,
This is throwing shit out,
Back over the fence of my body’s yard,
Emotional spring cleaning,
Meaning that after this is done
My ground is completely ploughed,
Furrowed and ready to plant and grow
In completely new ways,
And the only evidence of you,
The years, the trouble, the toil,
Will be buried there,
Deep under the soil,
Or left to wither in the sun,
Spoiled,
Undone.

Words Filled With Air (confessions of a mumbler)

mumblingWords leave my mouth
With slightly too much air
End up floating
between here and there
Adrift in lost communication
Oft missing target
Intended destination
Frustration
For on paper
My words are weighted fast
A strength and purity
Made to last
And in song
They cut through noise and ocean
Driven home
With intense emotion
Devotion to craft
But in common speech
They get the shaft
Not given weight that they deserve
Left to bobble and to swerve
Unfair
I should remove the air
Give them focus
Shape and form
Carry the weight of what is meant
And make them arrive
To where I sent them.