Mongrels and Misfits

by Beth Patterson

  And I would dare defy their height

  If it were asked of me

  I would scale each peak and every cliff

  Overcome stone majesty

  Just to see the morning sunlight in your eyes

  I’ve seen cathedrals of bare-bone faith

  Stiff, weathered arms reaching to the heavens

  I gazed with quiet reverence

  On their dark arches and finely chiseled beams

  I lift my eyes to a burst of color

  The rose window that scatters the light

  Like the hollow, distant echoes

  Of psalters flowing free like sacred streams

  A refuge for the troubled soul

  And leave the heart elated

  Though it scarcely seems as radiant

  Or as faithfully created

  As the sight of morning sunlight in your eyes

  The sea grabs wildly at the rocks

  Cold hands of despondent fishermen

  Who release their catch one last time

  As the sirens drag them down to quiet doom

  The darting silver multitude

  Changes course in the blink of an eye again

  Then slips away beneath the foam

  To the dark fathoms of swirling, silent gloom

  The chill sinks deep through barest bone

  To the soft core of my being

  But I could face the raging waves alone

  And never feel the sting

  If I saw the morning sunlight in your eyes

  The river here runs dark with tiny glints of green

  Brings to mind a flashback of a memory

  And when the rays of sunlight strike it, I catch my breath in wonder

  There’s something bright and distant that I long to see

  I have touched the hands of heroes, basking in their shining presence

  Those memories will never fade with time

  And the music floods my mind like a river in a storm

  But I can’t seem to put reason to this rhyme

  Til I see the morning sunlight in your eyes

  Tired castles no longer hold terror

  In their barren depths, no power behind their walls

  The ruins are bright and bleached

  And the ghosts have long since risen and fled

  Indignant skeletons, they stand now

  As regal ivy branches pace their halls

  With the distant standing stones

  And yawning dolmens that still protect the dead

  But when I set foot upon it

  I rule a fertile land

  The crumbling pillars rise again

  At the slight touch of my hand

  When I see the morning sunlight in your eyes

  Bring the cat in, darlin’

  Instinct is still wild

  He’s keeping that poor thing alive

  To play with it awhile

  He’s really such a sweetheart

  It’s really not his style

  But he’s letting that thing live

  So he can play with it awhile

  I say ...

  catchit letitgo, catchit letitgo, catchit catchit

  cachtit letitgo, catchit letitgo NOW!

  Nature is cruel

  That’s the order of things

  But somehow in the equation

  There’s something still missing

  It’s all about the hunt

  No compassion in the least

  Act and reenact

  It’s just the nature of the beast

  We’re not meant to understand

  How nature has no empathy

  But all the same, we’re thinking

  He should let that poor thing be

  It’s not for us to intervene

  With creatures wild and free

  But a tame feline should put that thing

  Out of its misery

  I say ...

  catchit letitgo, catchit letitgo, catchit catchit

  cachtit letitgo, catchit letitgo NOW!

  Nature is cruel

  That’s the order of things

  But somehow in the equation

  There’s something still missing

  It’s all about the hunt

  No compassion in the least

  Act and reenact

  It’s just the nature of the beast

  He was born domestic

  That’s why it just seems wrong

  Why does this loving pussycat

  Keep stringing it along?

  Something doesn’t add up

  For a cat that loves to play

  He’s only showing interest

  When it tries to run away

  We’ve tried to teach him kindness

  But he he hasn’t shown it yet

  He might lose a bit a wildness

  Once we take him to the vet

  I say ...

  catchit letitgo, catchit letitgo, catchit catchit

  cachtit letitgo, catchit letitgo NOW!

  Nature is cruel

  That’s the order of things

  But somehow in the equation

  There’s something still missing

  It’s all about the hunt

  No compassion in the least

  Act and reenact

  It’s just the nature of the beast

  I’m the ghost of roads untaken

  I’m your penance for your pride

  I’m the wrench put in the clockwork

  I’m the thorn deep in your side

  I’m the analyst to counteract

  Your drama of control

  I’m a cryptic cretin catalyst

  Of crisis in your role

  I’m your nemesis ...

  I’m the horde of private horrors

  Dancing round inside your brain

  That you sometimes choose to battle

  Sometimes choose to entertain

  I’m the drink that burns your belly

  I’m the drug you can’t refuse

  I’m the madness to your method

  I’m the temper that you lose

  I’m your nemesis ...

  I’m the yarn that sends you spinning

  I’m the grip that holds you fast

  I’m the truth that you deny

  About the errors of your past

  I’m the monsters in your closet

  I’m your drawings come to life

  I’m the voice of others wounded

  By your strategy of strife

  I’m your nemesis ...

  I was born in the Year of the Ox

  With a steel yoke around my neck

  And was fed just enough of the outside world

  To keep my thin conscience wrecked

  To bide as you are bidden

  To ride as you are ridden

  Don’t try to tease the authorities

  Or they’ll kill the hope you’ve hidden

  Take away the part that needs to be held

  Take away the part that dreams

  Make me into a flawless factory of success

  Make me the Perfect Machine

  I don’t heed the untimely end

  That justifies the means

  I will run like clockwork

  I will be the Perfect Machine

  I don’t care if it’s toxic

  Or if it doesn’t let me heal

  All I know is just for now

  It feels good to not feel

  I don’t need to self-ingratiate

  With some dry, sardonic wit

&n
bsp; Just know when you’re breaking down

  How close to home it hits

  Did you really hope to hear what you were wailing?

  Did you even want the song that you’re requesting?

  I will hand it to you on a silver platter

  Though I suspect that you may have been jesting

  My patience testing

  Your presence pesting … Oh …

  You’re a superficial bastard with no legs on which to stand

  You’re a lonely histrionic, you’re the scourge of every band

  You’re a parrot of pop culture, you’re an insult to the south

  This night would have been better if you’d only shut your mouth

  So since you’ve got my total, rapt attention

  And assuming that your sentiments aren’t real

  Since it’s much too late to ask for you to leave now

  You and I, come on, let’s make a deal

  I’ll please the folks

  You tell better jokes … Oh …

  You’re a superficial bastard with no legs on which to stand

  You’re a lonely histrionic, you’re the scourge of every band

  You’re a parrot of pop culture, you’re an insult to the south

  This night would have been better if you’d only shut your mouth

  Now it’s not in my nature to be snarky

  And to the great ones, I mean no offense

  There are birds who paved the way for modern players

  But let’s bring your humor to the present tense

  That joke’s been made before

  That song’s been played before … Oh …

  You’re a superficial bastard with no legs on which to stand

  You’re a lonely histrionic, you’re the scourge of every band

  You’re a parrot of pop culture, you’re an insult to the south

  This night would have been better if you’d only shut your mouth

  Invisible triggers turn my thoughts, then turn them back again

  Subtle signal, pheromone; a chemical war that I must win

  Overcome the instinct that the code makes us suppress

  On the frontline of decision—do I stand, or do I regress?

  The milk of human kindness, the glow of friendly flame

  To your every move hypersensitive

  That which makes up human sometimes brings us to shame

  I will always bear a streak that’s primitive

  I’m the ox, and you the golden ring; by my tender nose you lead me

  Resistance and control dissolve; forbidden text, you read me

  Helpless puppet, compelled to play at the ends of silent strings

  And I go through all the motions the magnetic pull addiction brings

  Is it physical attraction, chemical reaction

  Or do we merely want a piece of one another’s action?

  The milk of human kindness, the glow of friendly flame

  To your every move hypersensitive

  That which makes up human sometimes brings us to shame

  I will always bear a streak that’s primitive

  The hunter’s moon rises in darkest of winter

  The hunting eye is never satisfied

  The beast sees no beauty, but noble hearts weep

  At the savage allure of this lush countryside

  Across the St. Lawrence I gaze with a thirst

  At its beautiful mouth and its magnetic eye

  Where blade slashes ice with the speed of a predator

  Action and steel make the blood glorify

  ... Quel esprit!

  Il y a une balance

  Entre l’amour impossible

  Et le paradis ...

  The fearful heart can be defended with laughter

  The fox can be tamed by a young prince’s hand

  The mighty rocks bow to the strength of the climer

  The lion may lie in repose with the lamb

  Stone markers set me on the path with alacrity

  Sweet agony to be sundered away

  So shrouded in mystery, full of surprises

  I will return when my heart can’t betray

  ... Quel esprit!

  Il y a une balance

  Entre l’amour impossible

  Et le paradis ...

  They say it’s human nature why we covet what we never can attain

  The lessons fall upon deaf ears; a pattern that we never can explain

  The unreachable silence of power

  Locked away in that ivory tower

  And it’s so lofty up there that my heart beats like a drum

  I watch the king perched on his throne

  His troops form a barricade against the unknown

  And I’d give anything to understand his rule of thumb

  It’s quicksilver—water through my fingers

  Like that wild pony no one could catch

  Moonlight on the mirror, rushes on the river

  A pale cloud of smoke that escapes through the hatch

  It’s quicksilver, it’s quicksilver

  Well, I lost the war, but won the battle, as the full moon shines down on my prize

  Not mine for the keeping, but the best things come to she who really tries

  That may be all I ever receive

  But anything more may be hard to believe

  No one can presume to set a snare without falling in a trap

  The vibe thrown out like an invisible shield

  As I scan for a break in the great force field

  And I’d give almost anything for a taste of that

  It’s quicksilver—water through my fingers

  Like that wild pony no one could catch

  Moonlight on the mirror, rushes on the river

  A pale cloud of smoke that escapes through the hatch

  It’s quicksilver, it’s quicksilver

  Wild-awake in dreaming-time

  A secret meeting of the minds

  Far beyond a dream impending

  Thought and memory entwine

  Truth to spawn imagination

  Dwelling deep in fantasy

  Diving headlong into danger

  White-hot, searing ecstasy

  Border between bliss and torment

  Passion licks its swollen lips

  Biting, tearing through a fever

  Clenched in paroxysmal grip

  Dewdrop petals parting, morning

  Glory on its eager tongue

  Madly jumping in the throat

  The pulse of its delirium

  Flesh is screaming for indulgence

  While the mind is screaming ‘cease,’

  Panting, ever begs the question

  Does the heartbeat still increase?

  Earth and heaven struggle fiercely

  Only mortals left undone

  Wrestle with an angel and your

  Transformation has begun

  Now that I have become

  A red giant in blazing autumn

  The time is near, will I be justified

  Before I am blamed and crucified?

  When will these stars cross again?

  In the afterlife they will form a constellation

  As a public warning to mortal man

  Of unrequited reconciliation

  So here’s to hoping

  Here’s to reading between the lines

  Here’s to searching

  For any possible signs

  Of cosmic justice

  Through every lesson marked by scars

  In vain, for there is only justice

  In the stars


  Those nearest to me in my wake

  Will they be spared my apostasy?

  Not pulled into my grand collapse

  A dark dwarf of dramatic irony

  I made my entrance with a big bang

  Wholly narcissistic, lonely, and defiant

  I will leave the system in great style

  I have become a red giant

  So here’s to hoping

  Here’s to reading between the lines

  Here’s to searching

  For any possible signs

  Of cosmic justice

  Through every lesson marked by scars

  In vain, for there is only justice

  In the stars ...