a letter to a love of mine

hand and hand, we walk down 14th street

and I look at you and wonder why are you so

badly withdrawn. look at you here --

no emotion to anything, not even the

softest touch of the summer breeze

or seeing a bum old bird lady cry

could make you feel any sympathy -

there you go, manufacturing those

dark iron walls that protect you from

sorrow. but what you will find is that to

not feel is sorrow as well, for you dwell

in the same dark cave most of the time

nothing to search for, nothing you will find --

you wish you had some type of praise to give

or that there really was some higher power

who controls all of us, who makes sure we all

go to heaven. but you know you don't.

damaged - because you chose too soon

and blinded by what the human experience

is supposed to be. trees behind you, blow

wind into your ears, and sometimes i can see

that your brain feels connected to mother

nature but never other humans.

you tried once or twice, but it all crashed

and you expect everyone to be normal

but in realty the concept can't exist

because everyone isn't normal so

to not be normal is normal and

everybody is.

aimlessly you walk, and wonder if

everyone is just hiding behind their

skin. you stop to look into their eyes

but the depth is thin, you can't tell --

you don't have the sixth sense

to read minds or understand

the meaning of life through

someone else's perspective.

you get shy when they look back…

at times you feel you'r stuck in a whirlwind

of what everyone who allegedly cares

for you wants you to become…

and at this point you'd rather be a bum

because the anxiety you get from

feeling a need to impress them

makes you feel even more empty

and more lost with who you are.

you can't even tell yourself what you want

because the answer would simply be

nothing, or something materialistic

that would band aid your sadness for a day

and in a lot of ways a quick fix used to be

all you needed --

not anymore, woe is you

for you want insight and love and peace

and all those other nearly unattainable

things that only the people in the movies or

the buddhas and shamans find. you're surrounded

by a shallow ocean that drains your

creativity and your very own peace of mind.

hopeless, but pretty, so you'll dream

just one more time and if it doesn't

work you'll pray to a different god and

hope for better results. … ..

maybe aphrodite could return your heart

and perhaps satan could

sell you back your soul --

maybe this coldness

will slowly melt into what would

become something warm again--

and a lover or friend will

come back and you can live in

a place where turquoise petals

fall from trees which you could catch and use

to wipe away your clear tears.

perhaps there's a

letter you could send, or a bargain

you can make to gain back your strength.

or at least get back your heart,

even if it's black and blue and in pieces.

i really hope one day you'll find

whatever it is you want, and just know

that you'll always be my true love

you'll be able to feel the sun shine one day,

if you could let it.

but i can't stay to help, i've gone west

i've tried my best, but it just isn't me you need.

-marilyn metzger

long island, 2011

stuck inside a mobile

Now the rainman gave me two cures

Then he said, “Jump right in”

The one was Texas medicine

The other was just railroad gin

An’ like a fool I mixed them

An’ it strangled up my mind

An’ now people just get uglier

An’ I have no sense of time

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end

To be stuck inside of Mobile

With the Memphis blues again.

for Mallory

You meander around, though your existence is disintegrating rapidly

the battle to fight time is always a losing one.

Tattoos fade and turn into zombie colors and your body forms into a womans' figure

all that's hidden under the flesh, will always break through the surface

cells, swimming through rivers of whisky, will drown and decrease in numbers

yet, your heart is big, and wide, like bug eyes and fireworks on the fourth of july

but it's also drained, and nearly empty ;

those who surround you just want to slurp up what's left inside.

I wish a giant hand would spread open the sky, and guide you to what is still good.

I can see that your dreams were once as big as jupiter.

bunnies hide in the grass on your lawn and tell you secret messages

that can lead you back to good memories of the old sphere you once frolicked on top of.

- Marilyn Metzger

Long Island, 2011

the Tale of the Other Woman

far away, outside my door

i could hear the shot gun blast

wondering if he was safe anymore

hopin' he got outta there fast.

my door flung open, i heard him gasp

he said, "think i finally killed her"

he took off his gloves and boots and mask

it gave me chills like the bone of winter

i patted his back and offered him tea

for now he was distant and forlorn

said "just sit close to me, sweet pea"

in his arms, i felt so alive, felt like being born.

we loaded up the old crimson truck

with bags and guts, hair and brains

we roared loudly away and the chickens clucked

a bumpy ride, we kissed as we switched lanes

i looked in the back seat, but just couldn't tell

the color of the seat from the color of her blood

"together and free at last!" out of the window, i yelled

and soon she'll be buried in the mud.

we turned off the lights and hopped on down

my tiny hand carrying the smaller bags,

he was towing the rest of her on the ground

he stopped, lit a cigarette and took a drag

we were finally bringing out the old

ecstatic and in love, but shaking

wondering if this glittery feeling of gold

is really real or is he just faking?

so we found a spot and dug and dug

then began to feel a sweat

"we really did it" he said, i shrugged

she wasn't gone yet

there were pieces of her long blond hair

getting stuck to my shirt..

i kept seeing pieces of her skin so fair

poking out of the wet dirt…

she was standing next to him in spirit

i could see it in his tired and fearful eyes

his regret of her murder was so clear it

was like his pain was written in the skies

the final scoops of the dull damned dust

were sprinkled over the layers of hate

"we shouldn't have done this, we are just in lust -

i shouldn't have took her life, but now it's too late"

he weeped, and moaned and started to walk away

i followed him down, through the eery trails

"don't you see, this is supposed to be a glorious day!

for now our lives can be nothing short of fairy tale!"

he turned around and said "just go home

i want nothing to do with your conniving tricks…

you evil creature with a head full of poisoned foam

it's not her, but you who should be dead under the sticks!"

before he could say one more hurtful untrue word

i smacked his mouth with my muddy shovel

he fell down hard and groaned, his speech slurred

i grabbed the knife from his bloody belt buckle

i stood over him, "take back what you said!

i'm not the evil one, it's you

you'll always be the reason why she's dead!

i laugh and i know it's true"

i put him to his death that night

for he no longer deserved to exist

chopped and killed with all my mite

left his body there, alone, in the early morning mist.

i was driving away fast and started to grin

when i realized that i was the one defeated,

for now, their souls fly together in the endless wind,

and i'm still the mistress but the one who was cheated.

Marilyn Metzger, Oct 2011

Long Island

Wish You Could Stay

I don't know how I've let you in

it's like my heart was stolen by the howlin' wind

this was a feeling I never felt before

you must've snuck in through the back door

when no one was lookin'

we got together on the 31st of may

which brings me back to happier days

where our same colored eyes

gazed into the others like a lullaby

now, years later, our eyes gaunt and shooken'.

rollin' in the sun shined summer grass

life was new and naive and fast

we were so high, yet on the muddy ground

we shared true love, something so secret and profound

it was kinda like dreamin'

making out in the last car on the train

giggling, cuddling, smoking sweet mary-jane

it didn't matter that we were hungry, lost and bums

i just wanted you to serenade me with your thudding drum

not known' what you were scheming

I slipped deeply into you

but you became shallow and blue

and I knew then that your love was over

I wished for luck and endlessly searched for clovers

thinking' somewhere over the rainbow

for years I roamed and just chased the air

and a muse finally found me and said "this isn't fair

your first true love is bad for your senses and your mind

for if if you stay with him, yourself, you will never find"

it was right then and there where my pain glowed

and it all came back to that last day of May,

"wish could let you stay"

I thought, but a thought isn't enough sometimes

neither is talking, fighting or even my rhymes

I'd be howling to myself forever

I don't know how I've let you in

it wasn't me, perhaps it was the result of too much gin!

but now it's time for you to go

it's time for me to change direction on this road

just me blowin' in the breeze like a feather

Marilyn Metzger

Long Island, 2011

she was a thief

she was a thief of my time, a thief of my stuff

a thief of my mind. it was tough

to see the truth back then

in the dark days of the bent nights

and trailing lights, driving at 3 in the morn

bailing from death and laughing till dawn

days where my eyes rolled in back of my head

and the only sound i heard was my sun-shined soul bein' fed.

she was there through it all, at the top

on the bottom, inside the walls, in the halls

next to me, behind me.

then she was gone

as quick as a wizard waves his wand

and as quick as it takes a trail to follow behind a swan

gone as quick as it takes the moon to shine

and the stars to align

and the universe didn't

combine all of the right pieces together

to create things like waterfalls and trees

and people and peace for no reason.

but she's becoming more and more of a tease and

a sleaze and the sea of our love has risen

and over flowed, we float outta the brim

we try to survive but we don't know how to swim

our limbs are broken and hearts are numb

i think i'm dumb.

what used to be her and me

turned into a scene of scattered dusty debris

i try to listen to my mentors that sing "let it be"

yet i can't let this venom outta my head ya see

for there was a time where i had energy to believe

and wanted to actually live and even felt free

but it was all taken away, taken by a thief.

-Marilyn Metzger

October 2011

LI

must've been the whiskey

who am i?

i question all the time

even though i'm existing in my own mind

i feel like my body is a host

and i'm watching the world

on 8 milimeter film

and it's sad

i just don't understand what it is to feel

and i guess it doesn't matter

cause who am i ? and what is this world?

hollow hollow hollow

hollow, is what i feel

for my depth has been sold

for 100 bucks and a bowl

"wont you come see me, queen jane?"

dylan is my true love

for he speaks to me like no one else

no one will ever compare

play your harmonica notes, slowly, on my pussy.

i don't care

who really matters? who am i?

who is watching. who is really judging

who matttterrrresssss

cause i feel like no one does

and

even if they did, there's always the great escape

everyone wants fame

but no one is real anymore

and it gets me asking what i'm living for

and sometimes the answer is "for love"

and other times the answer is "for revenge"

the new world is just trying to make you all stupid

i won't let it

my soul will hide in the 60s

for i don't belong dumb and empty-minded

look, just understand this

there's probably only one chance

to make things good.

so if you get the chance, say hello.

- Marilyn Metzger

September 2011

long island