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 The Dissolution of Illusions, of the Queen of Balconia; at the Hand of an Odd God.
High above the thoroughfare
that is the highway to hell
perched on her pretty-penny porch,
the queen of Balconia eyes her empire
with the denial
of one recently dethroned,
but unwilling to admit defeat;
or is it,
to ponder perhaps,
nothing is new and all in its place;
in this, her getaway from the everyday
where fantasy is a right of freedom
responsibility is the right to rebellion
and chaos the only order of the day;
Not she,
but different…..
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
(an odd kind of god)
jaunts by on a jetstream
dismembers her daydream;
silence is severed with a screech
in a tone that tells her,
“make note missy;
my view is better,
than yours”!
the royal realm
below her pretty-penny porch
is still the same as it was yesterday
and the several since,
she bid farewell
to a love,
that outlasted many
and outshone them all….
It is an odd god
who sneaks into her soul
in a moment of memory;
(a big blanket on Balconia
on the night of a thousand stars),
and pierces perilously close to her heart
but heals the wound with the thought:
she has grown
a little more….
It is,
an odd god;
to provide the prince for a while
the boy-toy of Balconia
and odder still;
to let her – let him go
smoothly with serenity
deprived of the drama;
that long was the benchmark
of the queen of Balconia.
An odd god indeed,
that led her on an ocular odyssey
a surveillance of her situation
from this, her pretty-penny porch
high above the highway to hell
as a ruse, a ploy, the prelude;
to the dissolution of illusions
of the queen of Balconia,
in the stunning supposition:
that “Love,
has many
(M.Y.F.M, 2004)
The Reinstatement of Faith, to the Queen of Balconia; at the Hand of an Odd God.
Perched on her pretty-penny-porch
still above the highway to hell
but from a more poignant point of view,
the Queen of Balconia surveills her situation
devoid of the denial
that may have dethroned her,
derailed the mission;
or was it
next point:
Power: she ponders it well;
Was it his, hers, theirs
or was it in the tattered remnants
of her disheveled dignity?
A mission? Perhaps ….
but poles apart
from the one previously in place.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
(an odd kind of God)
perched high in his Aerie
rouses her from her reverie;
quiet is quelled with the admonishment;
“Make note Missy,
the big picture
is still
the same view,
just slightly askew
from days previous to this
and the several since;
the April Fool darned her tattered dignity,
with the loving hand,
of one who had stitched too many incisions
inflicted by
the slaughterers
of souls.
It is an odd God
to provide one April Fool
golden silk on his spool,
there in the moment
at which the wound is most gaping
freedom emerging,
still clawing and scraping;
at the prison walls
that had closed in
on her
released now,
the April Fool mended
her mishandled heart;
and gingerly tended
to the restoration of the being,
of a woman massacred:
by the machismo of men.
It is an odd God;
who brings her a King,
puts the writing in place
with a silver-tipped wing:
“This Fool is worthy of her highness’ heart”
Not a boy, not a toy, no prince and no pauper;
The April Fool is her King
with the power to stop her
An odd God
though he knew of the Fool,
let her dissolve the illusions
with her own set of tools.
The reinstatement of faith
to one so horribly wounded,
for the Queen of Balconia
the truth finally sounded,
in the stunning supposition:
that Love;
has many
strange beginnings.
(M.Y.F.M. April, 2005)
The Dawning of Reason, for the Queen of Balconia; At the Hand of an Odd God.
Perched back on her porch
of pretty-penny fame;
the Queen of Balconia
calculates the carnage of this,
her most recent journey
along the highway to hell,
on a mission of love:
a quest for equality
or was it
now May,
and the Fool far away;
a memory so distant
she is highly resistant, to the idea
it was even real…
Real though it was
and her heart it did move;
for the Queen of Balconia
the Fool missed his groove
His mending and tending
a thinly veiled ruse
a means to his end,
to dump shit and abuse!
She is wiser today though,
saw right through his ploy
For one April Fool
This Queen
is too
respect and her dignity,
still firmly intact
The Queen of Balconia
Enters a pact:
To self and her Deity,
she solemnly vows;
never again will I settle
for a mere facsimile,
the thin veneer of a fraud,
Nothing short of the perfection
Of my very odd God
(M.Y.F.M, unfinished(?): 2007)
Next: Runaway Queen (coming soon…)