"His Type"

  

In youth, he found a filly

One he bullied into submission

Turning her against herself

Holding her reigns tightly

Until her hooves pounded him into the ground

 

Next, he discovered a stately mare

One he adorned with silver and turquois

Turning her against herself

Grooming her for the family stable

Until her temperament demanded his temperance

 

He searched from stable to stable

One he enticed with his wealth

Turning her against herself

Forcing her to become the lost filly

Until her pride bolted her from his control

 

Now he seeks a steady mount

One he temps with everlasting security

Will he turn her against herself

Commanding her to his will

Until her soul requires nurturing he can’t give

 

February 20, 2023

 

"The Play"

 

ACT ONE              

            She lightens her brown hair        

                        He prefers blondes        

            She leaves family, drops friends      

                        He wants her to himself        

            She quits schools, leaves her job        

                        He cheats and she forgives        

ACT TWO         

 

            He demands exact replicas        

                        She produces an heir and a spare        

            He expects superiority        

                        She learns deceit and lies        

            He builds and buys a lifestyle        

                        She numbs herself with wine        

ACT THREE        

            A mansion filled with regrets        

                        Their marriage is a glossy veneer        

            Time spent in sun and sand       

                        Their love becomes a mirage        

            A picture of perfection       

                        Photoshop over Truth        

 

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Chameleons"

 A willow woman     

With spiked heels and sassy stride   

And contagious laugh that lured me into her life with playful words

Commonalities wove us into an easy friendship   

Same wine, same music, same world view   

Until . . .    

            He entered     

            And her eyes followed him, hypnotized   

            And her loneliness compelled her to   

            Cling to his words  

            Cloak herself in self-deception     

            As she became his shadow and lost all substance   

A tenacious terrier   

With body honed to steel   

And wit weapon sharp and deadly   

She voraciously fed upon change   

An adrenaline junkie   

Smart enough to carve her place   

Determined to succeed     

A warrior mother fighting through heartbreak and disappointment

Our friendship a braid of Time, Triumph, Travails   

Everlasting   

Until . . .   

            He entered   

            And she drew into his orbit   

            And her loneliness compelled her to   

            Dream his dreams   

            Attach herself tightly to him   

            As she severed all other ties   

Years from now  

Confusion and Disbelief  

Will mingle with their tears as they lament,   

“He’s gone. He’s gone.

I became what he wanted, who he wanted.  

But it wasn’t enough.”   

And they’ll be shadows without substance tethered to no one.   

David Chapman-artist

Copyright 2014 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

"Joe Cool"

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?   

Lies in your eyes that carve wounds into my heart   

Lips twisted by falsehoods you crudely impart   

A callous soul that stays stone cold and empty   

How many days can you pretend that you care?   

As you manipulate my feelings for you   

As you promote yourself, and snap me in two   

Counting on your charms even when you’re unfair   

What makes you so special that you flaunt all rules?   

By hiding your deceits from my trusting soul   

You promise faithfulness-a means to your goal   

And demand devotion even when you’re cruel   

When you look into the mirror, what do you see?   

Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"You're Not What I Want"

You strut into my life, mirrors for your eyes.   

Bragging on your style and worth, all to cover lies.   

          You demand worship, attention thrown your way.   

          Staging life’s events, you’re an actor in a play.   

                    You’re not what I want, so I’m stepping away.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m leaving you today.

  

You take and take cruelly, all that I can give. 

  

Draining all my love from me, just so you can live.   

          You see no one else, feed only your dark needs.   

          Ignoring all the hearts you break with your selfish deeds.   
                     You're not what I want, so I'm stepping away.   
                     You're not what I want, so I'm leaving you today.   

You expect to hold the world’s blind devotion. 

  

Feigning love and care, your spirit lacks emotion.   

          You think I should thankfully kneel at your feet.   

          Allowing the abusive cycle to repeat.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m stepping away.   

                     You’re not what I want, so I’m leaving you today.   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Her Fall"

 

I held your tiny hand, tugged you away from danger    

            carried you safely to the other side    

I protected you from water’s edge and ocean’s undertow—      

            the drowning tears of your uncertainties   

I watched from the sidelines as you changed—  

dwindling into someone I no longer recognized  

Now, dismay burdens me,    

cements me in place as you scale the precipice  

I call out, “Don’t! Turn back! Wait for me!”  

            as your compulsion drives you higher, higher  

I perceive the cracks in your mask  

            even as you disillusion those who still believe in you     

I reach futilely skyward, my feet anchored in place,  

            unable to halt your ascent over crumbling rock  

I try, and try again, to guide you to sure footing      

            but you ignore my words, indulging in illusions of independence  

I weep, a witness to your self-destruction,      

as your frailties and obsessions force your fall 

 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

  

"Forgive and Forget"

Over time, the walls of self-defense become chinked with wear   

Overgrown by ivy, flowering each spring with climbing roses,     
The origins for brick and mortar fade in memory     
The enemy’s conniving and manipulation forgotten with each
          passing season     

Over time, the story of the their cruelty mutates     

Into a softer narrative of the human frailty found within their souls  
And the need to forgive and forget their heartless and vindictive 
          natures      
Grows because I must repair my damaged spirit      

Over time, the protective barriers seem superfluous      

My internal longings to belong create false hope      
That “this time” will prove different—better      
That somehow they’ve gentled with time      

Foolish me—to pull down the walls, to retell the tale        

To desire their love    

Foolish me—to provide them opportunity, to crush me     

Under the weight of my forgiveness      

Copyright 2014 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman