All Beautiful Women-Are a Concept Made Up From The Use of Red Pills
At first I did it for the money.
Within a few days…it was just to see her.
It was the third day
Of the six week trial.
As we met,
She gave me a red pill
“Hey! It’s the same color as your nail polish.
Ironically my wife wore the same color.”
She replied with a whisper.
It mimicked the phonics used in
As the weeks proceeded
The nail polish chipped away.
By the end of my six week trial
There was nothing left of it.
Except for red-spikes
At the tips
Of her nails.
“How bout you re-paint your nails
And we go on a date? ”
Her chestnut eyes
Glossed over. They looked past
My aged, wrinkled, brow
To something behind me.
I didn’t have the courage to ask
What it was, or the tongue to question.
She knew I was a coward.
“No.” Was all she said.
As weeks went by
I saw red spikes on everything.
They vandalized my sanity!
Appearing at the tips
Of my hairstylist’s eyelashes.
Slithering like a snake
With the golden streaks
That touched the Earth
Even in the organized words and images
Of my Bible.
Fate was forcing me to find her.
And I did that.
I went to find her.
I sprinted in through the door,
With a bouquet of a dozen red roses
In my hand. I held them tight enough
That I reamed water from the stems.
It settled into the calluses on my palms.
And I searched.
Running through the hallways
Screaming like a madman
For my beloved!
Two security guards
Were ordered to escort me
Off property. They stood on
Opposite ends of me. Forcing
Me into the middle.
I tried to keep with their pace,
But my aged knees couldn’t do it.
Every time I would fall behind-one of the guards
Placed their hand on my back
And pushed…till I was caught up.
Then we passed her office! A sudden joy beat my heart
To cardiac arrest standards. It ceased as I stared into the doorway
And met eyes with a tall, male, doctor. He gasped and dropped the clipboard
He was holding. We left his view, but within seconds heard footsteps
Jogging up behind us. It was the doctor. He stopped to catch his breath
Then handed me a folded up, piece of paper.
I stashed it in my pocket.
The security guards
Gave me one last push-together. As I stumbled out the door
For a few steps.
I took the note from my pocket
And un-folded it.
In typical doctor scribbles
Were the lines:
Remember. One of the side effects
A.j. Binash's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (All Beautiful Women-Are a Concept Made Up From The Use of Red Pills by A.j. Binash )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
- Mother to Son, Langston Hughes
- I, Too, Langston Hughes
- Let America be America Again, Langston Hughes
- April Rain Song, Langston Hughes
- I Dream A World, Langston Hughes
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Life Is Fine, Langston Hughes
- Cross, Langston Hughes
Poem of the Day
- A farmer in snow covered field., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- IN LIES! LIES THE WAY TO HELL, Michael P. Johnson
- La-di-da, Bill Galvin
- Labyrinth Of My Dream, Tony Adah
- Balance Your Soul, Lyn Paul
- A Happy and Sad Haiku, Merton Lee
- Plum blossoms, Wenjun Liu
- PH: Echo: Being At Choice, Brian Johnston
- I walked through your woods, Wenjun Liu
- Stray Reflection, Sunny Chopra