yesterdays lies

they are the little ones that you told
whispering through the crowded bar
dancing their way across the moving floor

little lies left in bed
crawling squirming desirous whispering lies,

sheets sprawled on an open floor
moonlight lit shattered glass
its sound echoing across the cavern

forgiveness comes cheaply on a Sunday

(original photo:


17 thoughts on “yesterdays lies”

  1. Forgiveness comes free on Sunday in Digby :D! Sorry…couldn’t resist. Another compelling write Borg…and it’s those little ones that always get us in the end…especially the little ones that initially mean no harm…yes, this will stay with me for a bit, thus, I conclude my comments for the evening on this rather high note. What happens when the Borg evolves to Poet Laureate?

    1. Well Tash, I appreciate your thoughts and lovely comments. As to the Poet Laureate? In the immortal words of Denis Lemieux: “we go to Florida and I get the money”

  2. Yes those little ones you never suspect always crop up on you to stab you in your own back. Of course being a borg you can just pull it out, add a part and keep on going..haha

  3. a muted emotion dances through this…pain and anger and a grudging coup de grace w/
    ”forgiveness comes cheaply on a Sunday.”

    not the life of the hum-drum going on here.

    I sort of remember such (long ago), and happily can’t remember. the pain of passage.

    very good poem. well structured (with ‘silent’ ‘floor’ ‘mute’ ‘Sunday’) serving as stanza cesuras, slowing the tempo before continuing the pulsating pain.
    Shown, described…nothing told to the reader.

    You’re very good at this art. Keep it up.

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