Its Monday

Wheel in a tree


Oh to be a cog in the machine
Just a worker bee
Dotting my I's
Crossing my T's
No responsibilities
No decisions
Just my place in the machine
Build me up a rut
So deep
It would swallow me
And furnish that motherfucker
Cool calm comfort
Nothing out of place
Oh to be
Just a limb on a tree
Or better yet a ring
In its trunk for me
Years and years
Never bothering
Either a cog in the machine
With a furnished rut
Or a ring in a tree
Maybe then I'll be safe
And you will never find me
Won't get your fingers
In my cracks
Won't tear your way into me
Then again you could
Break your way into the machine
Light a fire under my tree
Guess you'll have me then
No escape
That's the problem with ruts and rings
They make it hard to flee
I still have scars
And wicked dreams
From the last time you caught me...


Chris McQueeney

Stage Left

Reel them in


Put on your mask
And play to the crowd
Reel them in
With your semblance
Of humanity
Awe them
With your honest portrayal
Of a wounded creature
Blatantly psychotic rendition
Of what a life should look like
On the other side of sanity
Peel the mask off during intermission
But don't get too comfortable
All the players are in their positions
Ready for the que
Mark
And go
Careening your way
There you go again
Acting outside of your part
Is that a tear in your eye
No no no
We can't have that now
Get it together
Play your part
Broken with an edge
Got to keep all your corners sharp
Till curtain call
Bow your way off stage left
The stage clears
Audience leaves
Freeing you to flee to another type
Of captivity

Chris McQueeney 

over and over

Free will


Your love broke me
Left me vacant and empty
And you
You
Broke me
Over and over again
And in that breaking
My will you were taking
Over and over again
God gave me free will
And freely
I let you
Take it from me
Over
And over again
Free will ain't so free
There is a price to pay
And I broken again
Foot the bill
Gladly


Chris McQueeney

Broken pieces

All the right places


You are broken
In all the right ways
Fractures and fissures
From one side of your soul
To the other
Taken individually they don't mean much
But when laid end to end
When you put the pieces together
They paint a picture
You sure are pretty
But that ain't all I need
You got all the right pieces
In all the right places
Yeah baby
You sure do do it for me
I want to slide up
Next to you
Pick you up
Hold you together
You are broken
In all the right places
Maybe you'll join me
And we can break together


Chris McQueeney

The Mag

To see


I took one step
Then another
One after the other
To the sun
The days are getting longer
Or is it the nights
It is hard to tell
I get so turned around by life
But to it I go
Even though I don't know
Up from down these days
Maybe one day
It will catch up to me
Until then we will just have to see


Chris McQueeney