MadameBastet-firing-neurons

MadameBastet-firing-neurons
There will come a time
when you will find
yourself alone
in fading room of despair
the stale aroma of some unresolved grief
heavy in the air.

And you will be playing mental solitaire
and smoking cigarettes
trying desperately to remember
how simply to forget
crazy things like the strange feel of December
in the dead center of July
the long, deep, bitter want
and someone that you loved once
a long, long time ago.

There will come a time
when you will find yourself
long since past the age
when it is acceptable to rage
against the dying of the light
and you will blow out candles in the night
and wonder when you lost the fight.

And you will learn, you will learn
to carry your grief with an elegant grace
You will learn
that in this world integrity will find no easy place
You will learn
to master the fine art of goodbye
You will learn
that often silence is your best defence
and that sadness does not guarantee
anymore tears left to cry.

There will come a time
when you will stop searching for some great cosmic sign
and you will gradually let go of the concept of fair
and you will live in a house of mirrors
to prove once and for all
that you're really there.

There will come a time
when you will spend your nights
dealing kings and queens
playing Jesus Christ to the demons dancing in your head
and raising Lazarus dreams
from the dead.

MadameBastet-firing-neurons

MadameBastet-firing-neurons
Peyton Place
has nothing on these kids.
Jamie, the perfectionist, crying again.
Cut his own beach boy toes off.
Brings the tears to my table
Sulks and won't do the octopus math
I don't care I tell him.
Tanner in some new drama and trauma
I'll never understand.

Dominique upset
because she wants to spend time apart from Claire
Claire's feelings hurt
Now Dominique hurt too
Maia and Natalie at each other's throats
as usual.
Flattery gets poor Natalie nowhere

I've never seen such moody little creatures
How can you only be on the planet 5 years
and be so moody?

It ain't all lollipops and balloons.
Reality has set in.
Time for a commercial break
from our sponsor.

God I love my cats.

MadameBastet-firing-neurons

madameBastet-firing-neurons
Up at the ungodly hour of 6am
No rhyme or reason
So I'm sitting at the computer
which is not cooperating
when I realized

The filthiest things
come out of my mouth
either in front of the computer
or sitting in L.A. traffic.
Seriously.
Sailors, truck drivers
dock workers have NOTHING on me.

Guns come to mind as well.

And they let her around kids!
Oh the humanity.

MadameBastet-firing-neurons

MadameBastet-firing-neurons
Like the proverbial Phoenix
Risen from the dead
Back amongst the germ-mongers I adore so much
CSET - the ugly beast - I beat it.
A miracle?
No.
Hard fucking work.
Beats miracles every time.

I am again in love with a ghost
a phantom
a vision of beauty so compelling
it would be obscene to try and descibe it
and yet here I am, master of words and all that is visual
and I cannot describe the soft, pale beauty
before me.
He was pretty once upon a time. Beautiful in fact. Oh
not in a conventional way - but he's never been conventional
in anything he does. Except in reality of course.
Convention is a cage for fear-filled lemmings.
His beauty was missed. How can that be? A thousand eyes
could not miss the subtle golden glow of a Rembrandt
the lush richness of a Watteau
and yet he was cast aside as strange looking.
Perhaps more Caravaggio that Caracci
It was in the eyes - look behind the darkness to see the smile winking
back at you.
He knows it's a game. He's played his hand extraordinarily well.
So his secret is mine.
The beauty is gone now. Time is a bastard thief. But the mischief remains.
I am breathless with awe
something I have for very, very few people.
I hope never to see him except perhaps
where he belongs
on a stage, as if in a gallery
the Baroque brilliance of his face
a joy all my own.