Til Death

source

She lies beneath the dirt and stone

Her earthly body turns to bone

Upon her death she wears a ring

Her lover’s token on her finger, hers alone

That night after the midnight tone

Arrives a man, to her unknown

He hides under the night’s dark wing

And tries to steal  that precious thing, to be his own

Upon her finger it seems sewn

Will not slip off, he does bemoan

To take the purloined gold he brings

A knife to her cold, lifeless finger—then a groan

She rises from her sacred zone

With livid eyes, her hair windblown

Alive again, she tries to cling

Refusing to let go that ring; the man falls prone

In her white gown, a figure lone

She wanders back home to atone

To ease the loss and heal the sting

Of her beloved, now aching for she who’s gone. 

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Music with Marian, Hardcore Americana
inspired by Tim Erikson's "Leave Your Light On"  and the legend of Magorie McCall 

Get Off

image courtesy of mobius faith

Feel the rush through your veins

Baby, you live to score

You’ve gotten your hit

Now you love me much more

You’re sweeter than Karo

When you swear that you’ll quit

But you get off on guilt

That’s some really sick shit

My apartment is filled

With your gifts of remorse

You say it’s because of

Your parents’ divorce

Your puppy dog eyes

They beg me to stay

But you are an addict

And we end up this way

You get off on guilt

You get high from regret

You keep messin’ up

And it’s not over yet

I won’t sell my soul

On your street any more

Confess your transgressions

To a priest or some whore

You get off on guilt

Such a sin devotee

I’m done dealin’ forgiveness

Your fixes for free

You get off on guilt

Stay away from my door

‘Cause you’re not gonna use me

To get yourself off any more.

Submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Music WithMarian, Soon Enough (Aimee Mann)

and dVerse Poets Pub, dVerse Poetics, Photography by Terry S. Amstutz