Member’s Choice Voting (Poetry) September 16 to December 15

[Tau]

This is the voting thread for the Poetry nomination in this seasons Member’s choice.
The Prose voting thread can be found here.

The nominated pieces are duplicated below for your convenience.
This Poll closes on the 22nd of this month.

Good luck to all nominees.

[Tau]

We are blameless, perfection to the hilt.
We do nothing wrong, we are without guilt.

We uphold the law, we know right from wrong.
We are the police. We're right all along.

We're the law of the land. We know what's best.
We crush lawbreakers and those who protest.

We apprehend hooligans, warn the youth
But someone's discovered.... we don't tell the truth!

When fans died at football, many years back
We covered our tracks, so we'd get no flak

Graves poignant and still, bedecked with flowers
We now must admit, the fault was all ours.

[Tau]

My passion sits beneath a stone
A place where I can't go
For death has come to half of me
With one half dying slow

How cruel is death to take my heart?
But yet it lets me breathe
It came between the two of us
And it will not let me leave

Half of me has forsaken life
It lays out in a field
The other half will not let go
It simply will not yield

I pray for death to come my way
Each day on her behalf
But death can't see how much I miss
My beloved second half?

My passion sits beneath a stone
Where one day I will be
I can't be whole until I'm back
With the other half of me

[Tau]

Just a joke.

Freud put forward once, you'll see
In jest, a joke, taken seriously.
Observed he, in the darkened privy
His own mum in her under-skivvy.

Not the correct term, poor lad he knew,
But his frail mind was all askew.
The lips he saw should ne'er be kissed.
He ducked away and hoped she missed...

...The growth within his underwear.
He'd never tell, of that he'd swear!
But if 'tis was the last he'd done,
He'd stop you fancying your mum!

I wonder absent-mindedly what really motivated people like Freud.

[Tau]

A body lays about a
mile down the road
but I can't see it.
All I see is an endless
haze of tail lights.
The bones splinter
and give way under
the magnificent
weight of well-
engineered genius.
But I can't see it.
I am fucking around
with the radio dial,
I am tapping my useless
fingers against the
steering wheel, I am
swearing about the
traffic.

Three quarters of a mile
down the road there lays
a body that is quickly
losing blood. Little
lungs heave in then
out just barely and
they won't last
very much longer.
The other drivers are
getting frustrated too,
so they cut into the
emergency lane, all
smirking at their
cleverness. But the lane
ends just a few yards up
the road so they have to
merge left again, thus
creating more traffic.
I nose my way into the
emergency lane and stay
there, in an effort to
block them and they all
pile up, a hundred deep
behind me, snarling in
my rear-view.

Half a mile down the road
the body's lungs have
finally ceased and it is
losing consciousness.
It's sight goes first but
it can still hear the
faintest sound of
honking. An ambulance
is far away behind me,
trying to get through
but has phoned head
quarters and given up.
People have managed
to get around me by
driving off the pavement
and they give me the
finger as they pass.

A quarter mile down the
road, the ambulance
arrives. They had to get
there by entering on
an off ramp and driving
against traffic. But it's
too late, the body is
already dead. It is
exhumed by the firemen
and examined by the EMTs,
then taken away by the
coroner. The state trucks
come and clear up the
wreck. Traffic starts
to clear up too.

Driving past the scene
now, and there is
nothing left to see,
just glass and sand
scattered on the road
way. Everyone gets
to go home, finally.
On the news that
night they'll briefly
mention the driver
who died on Route 8
and that'll be the end
of that.

[Tau]

3am and she is at my door again
and of course I will let her in
and of course I will be sympathetic

she crosses the thresh hold
fake fur coat
over sized sunglasses
looking so frail
and in my arms again

I lead her to the couch
sit her among the odd pillows
I ask if she is okay
when I know the answer
I need a drink she says
as I am already pouring

I take her in as I turn around
this disheveled woman
on my disheveled couch
she is staring at the glass
and she needs it
she says

I take her glasses off
her hair falls over new bruises
on top of old bruises
lips that I have only imagined kissing
busted and torn
and of course I am sympathetic

I don't ask what happened
but she offers excuses
and of course it is her fault
and of course he will not do it
again
he can change
pour me another she says
and I pour

I sit beside her
bring her close
shhhhhh sweetie
I am here and everything
will be alright
lies
shhhhhh......

then she says
just as the times before

I don't know what I would do
without you
you take such care of me
you are my best
friend

and what can I do?
to tell anyone would be
to lose her
to lose this
and it starts to rain outside
washing everything anew

she is sleeping
she is safe
and of course I love her
and of course I am a good
friend