Words of the Heart

A New Road

2011-03-11T17:52:00.000-08:00

After years of wandering aimlessly without a muse I have come into the presence of one who has awakened a sleeping heart. I have been shown that there is still hope and still goodness in the world. I was handed a mirror and forced to see the beautiful person that I am and to learn to love her all over again. I will be forever grateful to the Muse who inspired this poem.

A New Road
Alone I was left to wander
broken and mismatched
What I saw made me ponder
Had the gate been latched?

Would there, could there ever be
in all the world 'round
Someone to view the real me,
To find what could be found?

Was it in them to enjoy
that which I most love
There is no deceit to employ
I am the same below and above

I thought hope was close to lost
and the towel was ready to throw
My heart was growing a frost
my light was losing its glow

A light

not mine

steady bright

beautiful shine

Walked right into my way
And with a smile so sweet
Blew the dust away
gave me a tender treat

Showed me that the inside counts
and to be strange was good
Gave my step a bold new bounce
and led me through the wood

on the journey I came to learn
That I was just as bright
That What could heal had a burn
And was losing its own light

together we found a way
to learn it over again
That its best to enjoy today
And seize now, not when

The first few steps are taken
the road before unseen
the loose bits have been shaken
and the new slate is clean

Where we go from here
is still to be sought
But I travel without fear
For I am brighter than I thought

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La Lorana

2010-02-18T07:00:00.000-08:00

In my home land there is a place where the wild rose grows so thick not even birds can make their nests there. If you follow the old goat path south out of the village you will come to a stream and if you follow that stream west into the setting sun you will come to the source of the water. Just past there is a clearing. Not many people went there in the old days. It was a place of goat herds and rocks, not much else. Now there are the roses.

They say that in the time of my great grandmother, before they built the bridge over the river, our little village was bustling with travelers from the old road. Many people came to buy our goat's milk. It was the finest goat's milk in the land. During this time there were two brothers who owned most of the goats. Pablo was the older brother and a ruthless business man. It was said he could sell meat to a bear, if the bear had money. Tito, the younger brother, was the gentlest of souls. He herded the goats he and his brother owned. He was so kind the goats would do anything he said if only he would smile on them.

In the village there also lived Esperanza and her mother, Lupita. Lupita was a poor bakers wife; and after her husband died she was a poor baker. Ahh, but Esperanza was the most beautiful girl. She was kind and gentle to the village children and would often help her mother in the bakery.

Esperanza and Tito grew up together. They were they best of friends. But as they grew older the goat herding and the bakery they did not leave them much time to remain friends. Years passed and with the exception of the occasional chance meeting at the village well they did not speak to each other much.

Every spring the village has a great festival. La Lorana, The Festival of the Flowers. Every house, hut, and lean-to is decorated with the abundant wild flowers that grow all around the village. In the village square the grandmothers decorate the buildings and merchants from all over come and hock their wares to any passers-by. The year before the bridge was built, the festival happened to fall on Esperanza's 18th birthday. As a treat Lupita allowed her daughter to spend they day in the village square admiring the merchant stalls and even gave her a few precious coins to spend on what ever her heart desired.

That evening as the dancing and singing started Tito came in from the fields. His herd was safely put up in the pens and his brother had told him he could join in the festivities. There in the center of the square, dancing around the bonfire Tito saw a vision of ethereal beauty. Esperanza was dressed in a flowing light green tunic cinched around her waist with a leather belt. Her brown skirt moved like smoke around her legs as she kicked and twirled to the musicians' beat.

At the end of the song all the dancers fell to the ground in breathless laughter. When Esperanza had recovered her breath she made as if to stand. And there floating before her was a hand. Her eyes followed the hand up past a thick wrist to a strong forearm and up farther to a set of wide, sturdy shoulders. Set above the shoulders, atop an adequate neck, there was the face of quiet confidence. Esperanza took Tito's hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They spent they rest of the evening hand in hand.

Every night after that they met in the village square and talked for hours, about anything and everything. Throughout the spring their budding friendship blossomed into love. Through the summer their love deepened. By the end of summer they were ready to wed.

Lupita had been very busy with the bakery, trying to pay back the loan she had received from Pablo. She never noticed her daughter's blooming relationship. But Pablo had, and he was jealous of his brother. Late in the summer Pablo came to Lupita and told her he would forgive her debts if she would promise him one thing, Esperanza's hand in marriage. Thinking she could do nothing else she agreed. Lupita told her daughter that night at dinner. Esperanza sat quietly and listened slowly feeling a great hole open inside of her.

Esperanza had always been a dutiful daughter. She had never gone against her mother's word. Now she was torn. Between her love for Tito and her lover for her mother. That night after her mother had gone to bed. Esperanza snuck out of her house and ran to Tito's little shack. There she told him what his brother had done. And for the first time in his entire life Tito felt anger. He would never allow his brother to marry Esperanza. All through the night he raged and just before dawn he decided that Esperanza and he would be married no matter what. Esperanza was frightened of what Pablo would do to her mother if they ran away but Tito assured her he would do nothing. They arranged to meet at the clearing at the top of stream in one week's time.

Pablo heard the whole thing. He had seen Esperanza running in the night and followed her to Tito's. He had sat beneath the window and listened.

As the week passed Esperanza tried very hard not to let both her excitement and her guilt show to her mother. She worked harder than she ever had in the bakery. She went to bed early every night. On the day of her departure her mother noticed that Esperanza did not look well, and as the day turned into night Esperanza began to look even more ill. In truth she was sick from the knowledge that after that evening she would never see her mother again.

After supper she went to bed and quietly packed a bag of the things she would need. She lay awake in her bed listening to her mother getting ready to lay down for the night. She wept silent tears of both joy and sorrow.

There was a hush in the clearing as Esperanza walked into it. The wind was unmoving, the trees did not rustle. Even the birds were silent. Sitting against a rock her lover seemed to doze. She smiled silently and continued on. As she got closer there was something wrong. She could not place it. Was there something in the way he sat, the way his head leaned forward on his chest? Esperanza knelt next to Tito and placed a hand on his shoulder. She tried to shake him awake. Her movements jarred him a little and as he slid slowly from the rock she saw his cold unseeing eyes.

Tito! Her Tito was dead. Starting from a small black hole above his heart, an ugly red stain had spread across his shirt. She cradled his head in her lap and as she sat staring into the eyes of her dead lover Pablo knelt down beside her. He placed the gun to the back of her head and pulled the trigger.

They say Pablo left the village and never came back. They also say he never left the village that he just disappeared into his home and wasted away. But no matter what they say about Pablo none of them can deny what happened in the following weeks.

Lupita awoke to find her daughter missing. She searched high and low throughout the village, asking if anyone had seen her daughter. By afternoon the whole village was looking for Esperanza. It was not until the sun was making its way to the bottom of the sky was she found. Another goat herd found them. He ran to the village and brought Lupita. There she saw her daughter and Tito dead in each others arms. She wept and lamented over her daughter. She wailed as a banshee. It took all of the village men to bring Lupita back. For a week straight she cried.

One morning as one of the ladies came to bring Lupita some breakfast she heard no crying. The whole house was quiet. She found Lupita dead on her bed in her hands there was a single red rose and a scrap of paper. On the paper she had written:

"The Rose is for eternal love."

Within days the place where the bodies were found was covered in roses. Within weeks it was impenetrable. Over the years everyone has tried to cut down the roses. But they can not be so much as scratched by even the sharpest of blades. Except on one day of the year. La Lorana.

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My Fiction

2010-02-17T07:00:00.000-08:00

I want to lose myself in your Fiction
Let my Fact melt away
Fold me into your gentle embrace
Slide your silky fingers along my spine
Graze your ivory teeth on my neck
Trail your kisses accross my thigh
Take my Fact away
Harder
Drag me into your powerful arms
Rake your nails down my back
Sink your fangs into my throat
Take my flesh between your teeth
Give me your Fiction
End me
There
Yes
no...
Don't Stop
ahhhh
There
My Fiction

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Manbashing

2010-02-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

Now Ladies we must admit
We have done a fair amount of this manbashing shit
Putting them down and kicking their balls
Pinning their dicks to poetic walls
Assigning them to the ranks of thugs and players
Calling the cheats, dogs and ... Vagina Haters
Of assholes I'll say I've seen my share
But I have also met the few that really care
I know you've seen them too
Those strong and caring few
They are like that elusive flavor
That makes the dish one to savor
You can't say just what it is
Only if you weren't looking its something you'd miss
You look around and all you see
Are guys who will take you on a fucking spree
They use you up like a circular rubber
Hoping to God you don't become a mother
Ad if you do get knocked up
It seems their cellphone is always locked up
So instead of grabbing those sharp dressed swines
Take a moment and read between the lines
Next time you go out take a look around the club
Do you see anyone you could really love?
Step away fro the martini glass
Pull down your skirt and cover your ass
And Turn down that next raving invite
Instead bop on over to an open mic night
Then look around, you know what you'll see
Men who want more mind than pussy
Do something you would never dare
And talk to the guy with the fucked up hair
Stop looking for the man you usually seek
And go find yourself a computer geek
Why do nice guy always finish last?
Is a line every nice guy has asked
So quit your whinin' and your bitchin'
Just look around and see you what you're missin'
Ladies, the moral of the story is very plain
We are at fault for all our man pain.

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Baby Sis

2010-02-15T07:00:00.000-08:00

It has been a joy to watch you grow
From a colicky baby to the woman I know now
I remember clear that cold winter night
When you gave mom such an awful fright
The docotrs though you would be sick, surely
For you were coming way to early
But with your first breath you let the world know
That you would bring trouble where ever you go
Quickly the years sped by
And you learned to use that effective cry
And when you knew that we would linger
You wrapped us around your little finger
Growing up we moved alot
It seemed we would never find our spot
Then we landed in the CIty of Sin
And we started life all over again
From Kindergarten to Graduation
I watched you blossom with fascination
I am so proud of all you do
Though the words I say it with are so very few
Life with out you wold be amiss
I love you bunches Baby Sis

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Ode to my Family

2010-02-14T17:08:00.000-08:00

Short, feisty and pale
Describes me family rather well
I learned my Irish brogue
From me great Granny the rogue
Who smoked and drank wine
Till the ripe old age of ninety-nine
I'd like to go out like me Granny B
Cigarette in one hand bottle in the other shoutin' "WHEEEEE!"
I'd like to age gracefully like me Granny M
Flippin' off other drivers yellin' "Fuck'em!"
Then there's me aunts who likes to play darts
When e'er there's a bulls-eye one of them farts
And me own dear sweet Mam
Turnin' fifty and dating again
With a stogey in one hand and Stoli in the other
Who could ask for a better mother?
And me sweet younger sis
Full of vinegar and piss
Five foot nothing and pencil thin
Busted a bitch's face open with only her shin
I don't know much about me great grandfathers
Only that they were outlasted by me great grandmothers
Me Granny M is married to me Gran-pa Al
Turning eighty and still me drinkin' pal
Me uncles are a lively bunch
Guinness and Jameson is their preferred lunch
And me poor dear dad
Divorced me mother, lost half of what he had
And last but not least, me own little boy
Who thinks his wanger is the perfect toy
When I think of me family me eyes get quite misty
O' course it could also just be the whiskey

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Back Up Friend

2010-02-14T17:01:00.000-08:00

When all the others are too busy for you

You always know that I'll come through

I don't worry when weeks go by

And you don't even call to say hi

I don't get jealous when you hang out with another

Nor when their kids call you their second mother

And when the time for me rolls around

You know where I can be found

Standing behind you with guns at the ready

Holding down the fort rock solid and steady

Being your friend is about being there

When none of the others seem to care

It's about being ok that I'm not first on the list

And that sometimes I'm not even missed

It's about the secrets that you've told me

And the trust that will always hold me

It's about letting you cry and all the while

It's about making you laugh and making you smile

It's all the years that have gone to the past

And knowing what's behind your public mask

Knowing exactly how to make you coffee

And not blinking twice when you turn down toffee

Its conversations, libations, and reincarnations

And when the day comes to an end

I know where I stand as your back-up friend

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After the Dark

2009-10-16T23:36:00.001-07:00

It happened from the very beginning
I had this crazy, funny feeling
That you and I would find a treasure
Like coal to diamond it took some pressure

It takes fire and water to temper steel
And time and patience for a wound to heal
I’ve got that all and I see it in you
So together we can make something new

Through life and death, up and down
Past the false start and the worried frown
Into the unknown so curious and fantastic
Ignoring the words of the sincere and sarcastic

Listening only to the song of our hearts
Doing away with pre-determined parts
Stepping from a cave darkened by fear
Follow beside me and I’ll lead you clear

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Forgotten

2009-08-21T03:28:00.000-07:00

How quickly we forget
The hearts that we have broken
To us is just a little bit
The warm soul we have frozen
On we move with life anew
our gaiety and mirth abundant
Forgetting love like an old lost shoe
Remembering it only as repugnant
What once to us was love enshrined
And happiness of great renown
Is nothing more but an old face lined
Like an old man's scowling frown
From our life's sweet garden
The flower that now is weed
We plucked and let harden
Against the flower's need
But the lessons we did learn from it
We dare not ever show
Lest we remember how quickly they forget
The love that we did know

FF55 #3

2009-04-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

A slave can be owned by anything
It can be owned by time
It can be owned by love
It can be owned by itself
It can be owned by another
It can be owned by hate
It can be owned by space
It can be you
It can be me
Salves are we all

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FF55 #2

2009-04-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

Love at first site is not a myth
I have experienced it
I have seen it working first hand
And I know that it doesn’t mean a thing
You can know that life will be perfect with them
And they can know it too
Yet still they walk away
And you are left waiting for…

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The Gift

2009-03-30T07:00:00.000-07:00

The greatest gift I can give you is pity
Knocking around thinking your true in sin city
Confident that you can offer something new
All I can feel is pity for you
You live in this cloud that makes you think
That somehow, someway your shit don't stink
The image of you, a special and different being
Is what you think the world is seeing
But we all see through your careful facade
That your "gentle" is actually sullen and roughshod
And though I fell victim to your old game
Its not you, but me that I blame
Now thats done and my hands are gritty
The only gift I can give you is pity

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FF55 #1

2009-03-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

You’ve got to do it
Everyone else is
Its so easy to get into
Come on its sooo much fun
Look at you
You’ll be good
You’ll be the best
Everyone will do it with you
Go ahead do it
Just try it
Mmm yeah
Nice and easy
Take it slow
It’s your first Time

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Broken Promises

2009-03-26T08:42:00.000-07:00

Boken promises are just forgotten lies

They are words that leave the lips and fall short of their goal

Broken promises lead to crazy calls in the middle of the night

They make me scarrier than Saw, Freddy and Jason

Broken promises turn you into just another one of them

They creat an aura of asshole around your soul

Broken promises mean less than untruths

They are gilded and shiny piles of shit

Broken promises are no way to live day to day

They choke you into the oblivion of alone

So keep your broken promises

They do nothing for me

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A letter to Death

2009-02-04T08:33:00.000-08:00

Dear Death,

You suck.

I know that meeting you is evitable
That you are unbiased and yet charitable
People cheat you all the time
So where is it that you draw the line?
You let an old mean bastard live to a hundred and one
Yet you take a happy couple's only son
Do you spin a wheel or draw a name from a hat?
Does Fate help you choose, 'cause if its a whim what's up with that?
How can you take a man with kids and a wife?
A man who had more to do with his life
What makes you choose a loving mother,
Over the bullet slinging brother?
Is there a formula that you devise and follow,
Or is it just a random formless hollow?
How can you take from me the ones I hold dear,
When there are others more deserving standing near?
Do you understand the grief you cause,
When you take someone before they should be lost?
It creates an anguish that can't be destroyed
It fills the soul with a painful void
No words or time will completely heal
The wounds of sorrow that I feel
It is said that eventually the pain will fade
But so much time has passed and I feel betrayed
Because the pain is still there
I'm afraid that it's something I cannot fair
There is only one being that I can blame
And it just happens to use Death for its name
I needed to write this letter
To see if it made me feel better

It didn't

you still suck

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Insomnia

2009-02-02T15:28:00.001-08:00

Sleep is a fleeting imp whose illusion fails to enthrall me. Her delicate grasp on my unconscious mind is nothing to the tenacious grip of my ego onto the physical world. Her elusive spiral dance of mind and imaginings is a wisp of smoke to my stone state of physical reality. She is a lover seen only through a mask and so infrequently seen as to be almost a figment of my own imagination. She is glorious in all of her garments of the manifest unconsciousness. She brings with her dreams of beauty and love and of terrors to awful to be conceived by the waking mind. From her chariot of slumbering you can alight to the beginning of a new day or onto the verdant fields of the afterlife.

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Liar

2009-02-02T08:02:00.000-08:00

You liar, you cheater, you thief
Oh you of the Golden Tongue of Deception
You stealer of faith
You betrayer of truth and justice
You deceiver of trust
You are the Cubic Zarconia of friends
The fool’s gold of confidants
The glass gem on comradeship
Your appearance so beautiful
So seemingly flawless
So perfect to the untrained eye
So complete is your ruse that
A master, an artisan, a professional
Would fall to your spell
But thou art also flawed
Thy belief in the lie
Thy need to betray and deceive
Thy want to spread misery and self doubt
Makes you blind to truth
Deaf to possibility
I am thy enemy
I am unadulterated truth
I am trust incarnate
I am exactly as you see me
Perfectly flawed
Flawlessly imperfect
A fresh breath of balance
For it is I who will triumph
Your duplicity will be your undoing
And it shall be my steadfastness that
Shall unbind thee
My faith and truth shall be
My strength is your weakness
Your strength is my platform
For I shall be as I am
My timeless security will ruin thy lie
My endurance is that of ages
Yours is but of moments
Your words will unravel
Against my cornerstone
My weave of truth and love
Is stronger than your web of lies
I am from the beginning
And I am that at the end
Yours is but a flash
To my brilliant shine
You would take that
Which is most precious to me
For that I will reign justice
Upon thy head
Mine is vengeance sworn
My honest words
And silent actions
Will destroy thee
I am thy murderer
And I shall be exalted for it

Veritas vos libertas

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Rage

2009-02-01T15:29:00.001-08:00

I want to seethe and scream
Inside is a raging inferno of anger
No water can quench the flames
No soothing song can quell the beast
Angry slaves build towers of rage
An ocean of bitter water roils in my breast
Wave after wave of wrath slams against my soul
The frenzy of temper beats in my mind
A frantic dance of madness swirls about me
Great billowing clouds of ire rise
The pace of my heart speeds with outrage
My muscles clench like a frustrated fist
Sweat slides down my hot tense neck
Vexation vibrates through my body
The need to lash out quivers in my hands
The vice of fury tightens around me

A single word
A solitary sound
A simple touch
A lone kiss

from you

and the tempest would abate
The beast would sleep
The rage would drain from within me
And I would be at peace again

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I am Here

2009-02-01T13:38:00.000-08:00

I am here for you
I am here when you need me
I am here when you need totalk to someone
I am here when you don't need me
I am here when you want me

I need you
I need you when I'm sad
I need you when I'm happy
I need you when everything is fine
I need you when everyting has gone to shit
I need you to hold me
I need you to kiss me on the forhead and tell me everything is good
I need you when I don't need anything else
I need you like I need air and food
I need you like I need water
I need you even when I don't need you

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Chapter Five

2009-01-30T13:12:00.000-08:00

My son stopped his mad house dash around the table and looked me right in the eyes. His little about to be 5 year old face got as serious as it could get. He looked at me like that for a long time. My smile slipped slowly from my face as thoughts of what could be wrong with him raced through my addled brain.

“No mommy, don’t stop smiling. I miss it when you don’t smile. You stopped smiling when Poppa Keith died.”

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The gates opened and the rain fell. I began to weep. The weeping wasn’t enough, I began to sob. The sobbing wasn’t enough and I began to wail. The torrent of tears streamed down my face and neck to soak the neck of my shirt. I couldn’t stop. There were no words, just a deep wracking pain that poured from my mouth in a single sound. It was the sound my ancestors, the sound of every woman who had lost before me, it was the wail of the Banshee. There is nothing else it could have been.

My son wrapped his little arms around me and held me while I wailed. He held on to me and wept his own tears and he wailed his own grief. In the last almost year this is the one thing we had never done, we had never shared our grief.

As adults we sometimes forget that children can mourn the loss of someone just as deeply as we can. We forget that they need the time to feel grief just as we do. This is what I had taken from my son. In all that time, when my mind refused to grieve openly, my son saw only the outer shell of me. He saw only the part of me that seemed to not feel the loss. Being a child and being so desperate to not lose anymore, he reflected me.

I burned dinner. We cried for so long and so deeply that it took the smoke detector’s shrill whistle to remind us that there was a world beyond our grief. Slowly we came back to ourselves. I took the meatloaf out of the oven and set it in the sink. I just stood there and stared at it. For the life of me I couldn’t tell what was wrong. Besides the obvious of the burned dinner and the newly discovered grief, there was still something wrong, something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Mommy, can we just go eat pizza? My eyes are all dried up and I don’t want to cry anymore today.”

From behind me my son had spoken the answer to my problem. I didn’t want to cry today anymore. Some part of me, newly awakened, raged that I was putting off my grief again. But one look into my son’s eyes and I knew we had to get out of the house.

Not just out of the house, but out of the city, out of the state. We had to get away from everything that had hurt us so much for so long. We needed to start over where our loss wasn’t handed to us everyday. We were beyond repairing what was broken, it was time to build new.all works posted here are copyrighted

Chapter Four

2009-01-28T11:41:00.000-08:00

Insomnia

I had never experienced this before in my life. I had been blessed from the very beginning with a gift for sleeping. My mother used to tell me that I was the best baby ever. I would sleep through the night from the day she brought me home. She never had to fight me to go to sleep and I was always cheerful when I woke up.

But in those first months after my realization that I had been literally driffting through life since the death of my beloved, I didn't sleep very well. On a good night I got about 6 hours, but most nights it was closer to 2 or 3 hours. I went to bed at the same time every night, 9:30 pm, and I got out of bed at the same time every morning, 6:00 am. But I spent most of that time in bed starring at my ceiling, or out the window on the south wall. I couldn't tell what I thought about in those waking hours. There was no specific thing that prevaded my thoughts. My mind wandered everywhere it could; from the first memories I have of my childhood to the current war our country was engaged in. Everything got its fifteen minutes of fame in my brain.

I'm sure that the final descision I made about where to turn on the path of my life was made sometime around 3 am just as I was drifting off. It was probably about 3 months after I had that little talk with Jane. My brain was making its final attempt to stay active when a random thought crossed my mind. It was so random that it ended up keeping me awake for the rest of that night, and most of the next. My brain chewed on this thought like it was a piece of gum, but it was one of those amazing miraculous pieces of gum that never ever looses its flavor.

Like something right out of the Wonka factory; the longer I chewed on it, the more effort I put into the locking of my mental jaws around it, the more flavor and depth it gained.

It was so simple. It came to me from right out of my past. Something as a little girl I had always wanted to do and yet had never done. See the Kentucky Derby.

At 3 am on that night my brain grasped on to the thought that I had never seen the Kentucky Derby, and I had always wanted to.

It kept rolling around and around in my head that night. It started as "Shit I've never been to see the Kentuckt Derby, and I have always wanted to" and by the time I was getting ready for work it had turned into "I should take a week off this year and spend the whole time in Louisville absorbing the pre-and post-Derby environment."

Throughout the day my mind had to focus on the tasks that came before me, files and emails and letters and work orders. But always in the back of my mind the Derby sat silently waiting for me to get back to it.

After I got home that night I made dinner. My son was bouncing around, his birthday party was that weekend. It was his first ever "real" birthday party. With some of his friends from day-care and some from his Pre-K special Ed. Watching him simply enjoy the anticipation made me grin. I smiled from ear to ear.

I was sitting in my pristine public housing eat-in kitchen at my scarred fourth hand wooden dinning table, watching my son extoll the virtues of a birthday party, and I smiled.

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My inauguration piece

2009-01-21T11:23:00.000-08:00

Hickory dickory dock
The president's name is Barack
He promised us change
Finances rearrange
And the republicans are still in shock

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Chapter Three

2009-01-20T14:26:00.000-08:00

I sat down in the chair across from Jane.

If her eyes got any bigger they would swallow her face. Her mouth started working like a fish out of water, open and shut. No sound escaped from between her lips. Her face was contorted in such a fashion as to lead one to believe she had wet her pants.

"Jane, snap out of it! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"uh, I, well..."

She looked down into the cup of coffee sitting before her, as if she could find the words she couldn't say floating in the amber liquid. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. for several minutes she sat there just like that. Head bowed, taking deep even breaths. She looked like a woman praying for the soul of a sinner.

With her eyes still closed and her head still lowered she began to speak. What she said shocked and appalled me. It made me sick to my stomach. It changed my life.

"Sara, after Keith died, its like you shut down. You moved and acted like you were on auto-pilot. It was so strange to see you. There was never any emotion on your face. You could talk about Keith and his death as if it were a scientific theory. Some people tried to draw you out. Your mom said it was just you grieving. But it never changed. It was so upsetting for anyone to be around you that... well.... it just got easier to not be around you.

No one could explain it. When we asked you if there was anything wrong or anything you wanted to talk about you either ignored the question or always replied with 'I'm fine'."

Now she looked up at me. Looked me right in the eyes and said:

"And look at you! You must have lost 50 pounds! You never wear make-up anymore, your hair is always pulled back. You haven't worn any color except gray or black in months. Your like a walking talking corpse. People can't stand to be near you. its like there is no life in you! Sitting here talking to you... its... its like talking to the dead!"

It was my turn to sit and stare, mouth agape.

I reviewed everything she had said. I looked back at the last year of my life. I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true.

But it was. I had been going through the motions of life, not really participating in it.

How could I have let that happen? How could I?

When I finally became aware again of my surroundings, Jane was gone. The numbness running through my legs told me I had been sitting there a while. My coffee was untouched and stone cold. All around me the scene had changed. The late morning crowd had changed into the early afternoon lunch-goers. The sun was higher in the sky and the shadows had shrunk to almost nothing beneath their physical counterparts.

I came to the realization that I had to do something, something drastic, something that would snap me out of this miasma of lifelessness I had plunged into. Something that would make such a big change in my life that I would have to learn to live again. How could I keep going through the world like this? I had a child who would soon be 5.

Oh My God! I almost missed his birthday! My son. What was he thinking of me. What had my melancholy done to him?

What was I supposed to do? What?

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Chapter Two

2009-01-12T14:23:00.000-08:00

After a week of waiting for phone calls. I called Jane again. I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Afterall these people were supposed to be my support network. We were supposed to care about and love each other. What was wrong that no one wanted to talk to me?

"Hi Jane"
"oh hi Sara"
"Jane I need to talk to you, can you meet me for coffee on saturday?"

Saturday coffee used to be our ritual. We had a little cafe we went to. The first cup was like two dollars and refills were a quarter. Thats hard to find these days. Plus the staff was really awesome. A jumble of teenagers and adults trying to be teenagers. Sometimes we just went to listen to the barrista drama.

"Well Sara I don't know..."
"Cut the shit Jane. something is wrong and I need to talk to someone. Your my best friend"
"Ok I'll meet you there. Same time?"
"Yeah see ya there girl"

That Saturday I dropped my son off with the babysitter, Jennie. I didn't use her often but she was great with my son. He loved going over there. When I pulled into her driveway he started bouncing in his carseat signing

"I get to play, I get to play"

Four really is the perfect age.

Jennie was happy to see us. She asked how I was doing and ushered my little guy into her living room. She already had his favorite toys out and his favorite movie on the old boob tube. He kissed me good-by and proceeded to forget I even existed. I was smiling when I drove away.

Cafe Expression

What a great name for a coffee house. Every friday night they have an open mic. Jane and I went once. It was a mad house! Every angst ridden freak who could write two words on paper was there. There were a few people who were really good, but mostly it was quacks and teens and that new genre of goth kid... the emo kid.

Cafe Expression during the day was a laid back place. They only had very few of those wooden bistro sets you see so often. Mostly it was big comfy chairs with little tables. You could move things arround to make you seating area bigger or you could move a chair off to the corner and be by yourself. Every chair had a slip cover and everyone was different. It was like drinking coffe in a salvation army used furniture store. You never worried about spilling your coffee on the chairs or scratching the tables with your laptop. It was very rare on a Saturday to see drama unfold in the hallowed halls of Cafe Expression.

When I got there Jane was already inside sitting at one of the crappy wooden bistro sets. I hate sitting in them for any given period of time because they make my ass hurt. She does too, which is why its so weird to see her sitting at one. The little door chime as I entered made Jane raise her head and look at me. What I saw in her eyes made me very nervous. She looked like a little kid who had to tell the teacher who spilled the paint on the floor. She looked nervous and apprehensive. I just stood there looking at her. I had never seen her look at me like that. ever.

My instincts kicked in and my legs took me to the counter. The girl at the register must have been new. I didn't recognize her. I ordered my standard Decaf Mocha Late. I can't drink caffine it makes me twitchy. After I paid I turned around. Jane was still looking at me like I was going to gobble her up. What the hell was going on?

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Chapter One

2009-01-11T15:48:00.000-08:00

Its cold. Well I didn't expect it to be warm. it's the middle of January in Kentucky. I have felt it grow colder every day. Tonight its not as cold as it has been. The snow from a few weeks ago has melted into a continuous slush that has a nasty way of soaking through the hems of my jeans. Every night, by the time I get home, my pants are soaked clear to the bottom of my knees. I've gotten used to it in the last three years. That first winter was the worst. I almost broke down and moved back.

Back. Once upon a time I thought I would never leave. I thought my whole world was there. I had great friends. My family was there. I found true love there. Everything was great. I didn't have a care in the world. Ok I had your standard cares. I was considered low income. I was on housing assistance and day care assistance. But I was working full time. It was one of those crazy spirals some people find themselves in. But it was ok because I had my friends and family and my true love.

I had it all. More than anyone could hope for. I wasn't wealthy but I was rich. I lived like that for three years. I was so sure things were going the right way. I knew he was going to ask me to marry him. After all we had been dating for seriously for close to two years. We had been friends for a year before that. We liked each other's friends. We had our own hobbies. We had a damn near perfect relationship. Oh we fought of course, but what healthy stable relationship doesn't involve the occasional argument. My son loved him, I loved him, my family loved him.

Then it was gone. all of it. How could life be that cruel?

There was an accident at his work. He did construction. He was a foreman on the Strip's biggest resort project to date. He oversaw everything. He was so involved in that building. I used to joke that it was the "other woman". They still aren't sure exactly what happened. Somehow a beam fell from the top of the building. It landed on him. It fell 35 stories to land directly on his head.

They had to use DNA to identify him. There wasn't even enough left of his body to get him a casket. His family decided to have him cremated. The memorial was beautiful. Everyone treated me as if I really was the widow. I cried. I cried so much those first few days. Then I stopped crying. just like that.

I thought I was ok. I thought I was moving on. I was still very sad, but I wasn't crying anymore. It was hard trying to explain death to my 4 year old. Everyday I had to sit down with him and talk him through why The man he thought of as a father would never be here anymore. I told him all the old tired cliches. I told him that if we hold on to the memory of the ones we lose then they never really go away. I told him that after death there was a beautiful place where people to go to rest and reflect on their lives. I told him that Keith would be watching us from this place for the rest of our lives.

I hadn't shed a single tear since that first week. About a year later I began to notice that people were not calling me as often. My friends and family weren't inviting me to outings anymore. I was curious. I called the woman who had been my best friend before all this.

"Hey Jane its me Sara"
"Oh wow, um, hi Sara"
"Hey how are you doing? I haven't heard from you in ages."
"ehhh, well, I'm doing ok. Hey look I've got to go I'm right in the middle of something. I'll call you later, ok?"
"uh sure. Hey don't be a stranger!"
"um yeah ok bye"
click

weird. We used to be able to talk for hours on the phone about everything. I tried more people. I called friends, and family. I even called the people from Keith's family that I was close to. Every conversation went almost the same way. It was like they couldn't get me off the phone fast enough.

Jane never called me back. None of them did.

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How Why When

2009-01-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

How on this day
So cloudy and gray
The sun shines through to my soul

How in the night
Devoid of light
There is a sparkle before me

How in the face
Of this uncertain race
Can I still feel the hope of ages

Why do I cling
To that which stings
When I know I should pull away

Why am I still
Looking for my fill
When the pitchers around me are empty

Why does my heart
No longer fall apart
When devastation rains down upon it

When will I learn
To treat the burn
Before I look for fire again

When does the hurt
With which I flirt
Finally cause my nerves to tingle

When shall I
Cease to cry
When all I want to do is sing

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Love. Hope.

2009-01-05T08:25:00.000-08:00

Love is one of the best feelings, it brings you joy and peace. It makes the world a better place. Life is easier with Love. Love makes you see the beauty that is hidden all around us. Love is grand. But Love is a strange beast.

She smiles and lures you in with poetic words. She strokes you with a tender touch. She purrs when you lay your hands on her. She shows you her depths and tells you her secrets. Then without warning and in the blink of an eye, she leaves you cold and wanting. You find your bed, once full of passion and vigor, frigid and lifeless. Your soul, once alive and holding to the glory of the future, is left like a motherless child alone in a cold room looking around for the arms that once cradled it.

Love is like a drug dealer. He gets you hooked on the free samples. Then, he slowly increases your prices. And just when it seems that you can’t afford your next fix he hooks you up with another free sample. His drug is the best there is. It gets you high and makes you feel good. It doesn’t affect you but to make you want to be a better person. Your family encourages you to take more; they even help you to get it. Your friends applaud when you find your dealer. He gets you so hooked that you can’t even pass through a single day without at least a small dose. Then your dealer disappears, he vanishes in the mists of morning. You start to detox. You get the shakes and you lose control of your emotions. Your family rallies with your friends to keep you afloat. They flood you with their version of your preferred drug but it just isn’t the same.

Love doesn’t hurt. Love is soft and gentle; it cushions you from the pain of the world. It is the loss of Love that causes debilitating pain to course from your heart to every cell in your body. It is the absence of Love that makes it difficult to rise every morning.

But Hope is not lost when Love is. It may seem so in those first dark days. It feels as if there is nothing that will break through the despair that settles over you. Then that indomitable little spark once again begins to glow. Hope. It reaches out from the bleak future and pulls you forward. It illuminates you with a soft blue healing light, and you begin to see the world once again.

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2008-12-18T09:12:00.001-08:00

Why do I write these words
When everything is just the same
There are no syllables that can be said
The feelings are like tiny birds
Flitting back and forth from which they came
The nebulous center of my head

Why do I say these things
When they can not really be given a voice
Simple letters will never be enough
A feather alone can not be wings
Three words to express is a poor choice
Finding the right ones has proven tough

I love you will never be right
It can not make the feeling be known
There is no way for it to be true
Joy and Laughter and The sun so bright
Existent being beyond my own
There is so much more than I love you

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Magic in Your Hands

2008-11-14T07:00:00.001-08:00

A spell has been cast over me and it has been done by your hands. I have come to the conclusion that there is magic in your hands. They have a way of making me forget every bad moment in my life. When your hands are holding mine, I forget that there once was a man who hated me. I forget that I had to cut my hair short when your hands are buried in my tresses. The pressure of your hands as they ease the tension from my neck and back erases all the trivial things that have happened through out the day. When my face is cradled between your hands there are no thoughts of the man who once hit me. When you gently rest your hand on the small of my back, I smile, and I forget what I was so anxious about. When I see my child’s hand in yours I forget that his father forgets. When your hands have led your arms to wrap around me and hold me close, the memory of every night I spent alone, crying; disappears. When I fall asleep to the feel of your hands stroking my side there are no more nightmares. When I wake to the gentle stroke of your fingers along my spine, I forget the cold, lonely mornings of my past. When your hands are hot on my body, stroking my breasts and finding their way to my damp warm feminine need, when they bring me to the dizzy heights and gently cushion me as I fall back, when they tease me to the edge of reason and release me into the abyss of ecstasy, I forget that I was once violated and forgotten. The magic in your hands makes me forget all the times I felt unloved and afraid. To make your magic work it is a simple touch of the palm or sweep of the fingers, the gentle brush of the back of your hand or the tangle of your whole hand in mine.

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Wake Up

2008-11-12T07:00:00.000-08:00

You have no idea the power you hold
To trap a man's heart and then enfold
You can chew them up and swallow them down
Then vomit them back with a nasty frown
And still the crawl back with heads hung low
Hoping to take part in another show
They want to love you, and hold you close at night
You are the only woman in their sight
Beauty for them is all that you are
You suck them back like a black hole star
But scorn the emotion that they cherish
As if at its touch your ego will perish
You strive to be independent and strong
But the way you do it is so very wrong
You want to make it on your own
To pretend to be mature and grown
To handle all your woes and cares
But then your on all the state's welfares
You get stamps and checks in the mail
You clog the system with your paper trail
Then you have the audacious balls
To ask for money for the shopping malls
You need Coach shoes and a Vendi bag
But forget it you gold digging hag
You can't have it both ways
Independent with someone paying for the days
Wake up and see what it should be like
Working together like a tandem bike
When he steps forward so do you
When he falls you fall too
You share your kisses and tiny smiles
Together you walk a thousand miles
But you see it differently, slightly askew
They give every step, fall, kiss and smile to you
A thousand miles plus a thousand more
You make them walk till they hit the floor
But nothing they do, no words that they pitch
Can make you stop being a selfish bitch
One day you will make to see
Independent and alone is what you'll be
No one to love you as you crave
Slipping unnoticed to an early grave
So wake up now before it's too late
Or you will fall prey to your predicted fate

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Trip With Me

2008-11-11T07:00:00.000-08:00

When you call my heart flutters
When you smile my mind stutters
I'm afraid of what this means
That it is not what it seams
Scared that you are not real
That this time I won't heal
I quake when you touch me
I quiver when your lips brush me
You seem to get me from the inside, out
You make me happy and you make me pout
The sound of your voice in song
Is what I hear all day long
I'm waiting for that other shoe
That when it drops you won't be you
Will you turn into someone different and strange
What would happen that could cause that change
Is it possible my worry is for nothing
That what we have really means something
Are we that fated and fabled pair
Is it true love together we share
Or is that word too much for now
I'll just step back and take a bow
And be thankful what we have is great
And observe this thing as we create
The Good and Bad, the Up and Down
The times we scowl and and the times we clown
So I'll take a hold with my tenacious grip
And walk beside you on this wondrous trip

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The Sound of Your Voice

2008-11-10T09:31:00.000-08:00

The sound of your voice makes my darkest day a little brighter
The sound of your voice brings laughter to my heart
The sound of your voice reminds of my childhood imagnination
The sound of your voice rings through the halls of my soul
The sound of your voice frustrates the to now end, then...
The sound of your voice makes me forgive you
The sound of your voice can cause panic to stop my heart, but...
The sound of your voice quickly calms my fears
The sound of your voice is missed when you are away
The sound of your voice is cherished by my ears
The sound of your voice is the perfect moment when you say "I love you Mommy"

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I Need Your Kiss

2008-10-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

I need your Kiss
Without you here, there is boredom and banality
I need your Kiss
During the day I survive by thinking of the finality
I need your Kiss
Wrapping myself in your arms so warm and strong
I need your Kiss
Closing my eyes and sinking into a jazz song
I need your Kiss
Swaying gently to the flow of the softly playing tune
I need your Kiss
There is no one but you and I in that back lit room
I need your Kiss
Laying my head upon your chest, hearing the beat
I need your Kiss
Smiling to myself for the moment is tender, sweet
I need your Kiss
Running my fingers through your sandy hair
I need your Kiss
Wishing for the prize we long to share
I need your Kiss
Gazing long and deep into those pools of blue
I need your Kiss
These are my thoughts when I think of you
I need your Kiss

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Sliding

2008-10-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

We're sliding down a slippery slope
Too fast in mind, To slow for HOPE
Slicing into the "Already, I know you"
If you don't believe, come here I'll show you
So easy to fall, still afraid of the crash
Put back together, and ready for the lash
Thoughts running together, almost the same
The SOUL is too tired to play the game
How many times two, three of four
Until we are ready to further explore
This crazy strange connection we've made
That makes us each a little afraid
Both us playing the timid parts
Because of the scar tissue tracing our hearts
Too many times put through the emotional grinder
Then each lonely day became a harsh reminder
That sometimes the only way to fill the heart's hole
Is to find another tired bruised Soul
Patch each other as best you can
Then face the world and take a stand
Agree to be friends and I think only then
Can the healing of our SOULS truly begin
And one day we'll look and finally see
The bright shinning future built by you and me

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Hope Floats

2008-10-22T12:10:00.000-07:00

Your hands are are soft as they trip along my side. Yet I can feel the slight roughness of your palm as it slides down my thigh. Your warm solid chest is pressed to my back and I can feel your breath as it flutters through my hair. My head rests on your shoulder as we lay on the cloud of your bed, completely surrounded by pillows and down comforters. I can feel your heart beat against my spine. My eyes are closed. My breath quickens as you move your knee between my thighs, opening me for you questing fingers. Lightly they dance across my moistening inner thighs. As you shift away, my back is chilled and gooseflesh rises all over me. The tightening of my skin enhances the sensations of you. Without opening my eyes I can see your face. Your honest eyes and sun tipped hair, the cocky slant of your smile. The pressure of your hand rolls me to my back. I can feel you face so close to mine. I smile because I know you will kiss me. Your breath is hot on my lips, your hand is heavy on my breast. I open my eyes to watch you smile.....

And I find my self alone. Staring at the ceiling. My brain works at understanding why I am alone. Then, as the tumblers of a lock fall into place, the facts of my mind line up. You have never been here, I have never been there. I have never felt your lips touch mine. I have never been held by you like that. Because you chose her. You compared us, categorized us, and analyzed us. And though she broke your heart once before and played you till you were spent, you chose her. You smiled and patted me on the head and sent to my place. My place behind you as your friend.

In the beginning you made me feel special. In the beginning you warned me. But I held onto HOPE. And then she came back. She promised you everything I already had to give. She swore it would be better. And you, like a moth to the flame, gave yourself to her. I was left to float on my HOPE, which was quickly deflating. Now you smile at her like she is your world as she wounds you in a hundred thousand places. Now you smile at me like I am just one of the guys as I put band aids on the wounds you can not reach.

She loves you enough to waste your life, enough to wreck you, enough to keep you. I love you enough to save you, enough to pieces you together, enough to be your friend. Now I dream you of and wake alone, still clutching to my dwindling hope.

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About Me

2008-10-20T07:00:00.000-07:00

I am short fat and white
I have big tits and I like to bite
Tie me down and eat me out
Make me cry and make me shout

I like to suck on juicy c*ck
I listen to classical, jazz, and hard rock
I do my kegels every morn
I like to watch hard core porn

I need a man who can make a choice
Without needing to hear his momma's voice
Are you ok that I make a lot of money?
Do you want to be my little honey?

I don't need a baby daddy
What I need is a shopping bag caddy
A man to dominate me in bed
Who doesn't mind that I like to give head

I like wot write poetry about my life
I don't want to be some jackass's wife
My girlfriends say that I am the best
I can eat pussy better than the rest

My friends all say the I should do stand-up
If you agree please put your hand up
This is the end of my little poem
Now it is time for me to go home

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2 for 1 Friday

2008-10-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

Hello?
Hello I'm Here! Can you see me?
I'm the little one, closest to the floor

Hello I'm Here! Can you hear me?
I'm the one knocking on your door

Hello I'm Here! Can you feel me?
I'm the one tugging on your shirt sleeve

Hello I'm Here! Can you taste me?
I'm the one who cries when you leave

Hello I'm Here! Can you smell me?
I'm the lavender and rose cloud you pass through as you make your way to her

Elements

Lost in physical feeling

Moments held most fleeting

Touch and taste are stealing

Need and want are meeting

Fire blazed and Water whetted

Earth moved and Air stumbled

Elements gained never regretted

Connections made sometimes fumbled

Forget not Present Past

Live on as Past before

New Future will not last

Present Past may come once more

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The Weapon

2008-10-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

I know of a weapon more powerful than any nuclear bomb
And it can be used by any Harry, Dick, or Tom
It has the power to destroy nations
And to restore public relations
It can get you sent to prison
Or send you on a religious mission
It's been around since ancient Sumer
And now it can to tell you if you have a tumor
With it I have the power to send you fantastic treks
Or turn you into quivering emotional wrecks
Show you lands you've never seen
Transform you into a dog, a bird, a beauty queen
It has the power to travel through time
Parallel park and stop on a dime
It has taken you into the dreams
Of the world' two most powerful Kings
One, the hope of Martin Luther
the other Stephen's twisted humor
If we had what was lost in Alexandria's fire
We could take ourselves even higher
I'll tell you how to build the device
That can be used for either naughty or nice
First take that which is mightier than the sword
And use it to tame that subconscious Horde
Then using the power of the children of trees
Line them up however you please
Show them off or speak their names
Keep them forever or burn them in flames
I'll tell you the name of my weapon of choice
To the deaf and the mute it is a powerful voice
You see there is nothing stronger in all the world
Than the power of the written word
Left alone on paper, in ink
By itself can cause a terrible stink
But give it the power of the vocal cord
And it becomes a deadly sword
Left alone in ink, on paper
Can make you laugh at some funny caper
But give it an action figure kung fu vocal grip
And it can make your mind tumble and trip
Yes I know of a weapon more powerful than any of the others
And I use it to help my sisters and brothers

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Divine Truth

2008-10-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

Deep inside me a power burns
And everyday my souls yearns
To open up and let it out
To tell the world with a thunderous shout
To know I could say it with out remorse
To know that there would never be a recourse
To tell you who and what I really am
Without you returning with some slanderous slam
Religion to me is not about God's wrath
Religion to me is about becoming my own path
You see every step that I have taken
Has made me a better Pagan
I practice the craft, the way of the wise
Now open your mind and close your eyes
Nature's beauty and her forces
Have been the study of my courses
Light and Dark, Good and Bad
One without the other we never would have had
Goddess and God with out there is nothing
But together they create this greater something
Eight words my Wiccan Law fulfill
"And ye harm none, do what ye will"
About other religions I'll never talk trash
I think its beneath me, lower class
Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jew
I don't care which one is right for you
Because all the worlds religions are just different routes
Leading us all to the same divine truths
Take care of your family and be a good friend
You only have you to answer to when it comes to the end.

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To My Son

2008-10-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

Before you lies a road of rocks
and at every turn intolerance blocks
You from becoming a man
So shed the cloak and take a stand
Against the hate of color and creed
And show this world that what they really need

Is to look up high
Into the sky
And always remember they can learn how to fly

Your legacy spans 4 generations
Bringing together 2 very different nations
A little Italian Irish lad
Lets not ever get you really mad
Some of your family stills talk with a lilt
And others still walk with a mafia tilt
Heritage my son you have in spades
And if the memory of that ever fades

Just look up high
Into the sky
And always remember you can learn how to fly

I hope you grow to be color blind
And to have an open mind I can only show you how to act
When others walk up without any tact
Just hold your head up strong and true
And others will learn to follow you
Lead them down the road less travelled
Then the path to hate will come unravelled

And look up high
Into the sky
And always remember the we can learn how to fly

Always question those in power
Never bend and never cower
Don't believe anything you hear
And don't let your life be controlled by fear
Extend your hand to someone with less
And then you life will truly be blessed
Eight words in life that you must fulfill
And it harm none, do what you will

Then look up high
Into the sky
And always remember you can learn how to fly

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An Apology

2008-10-13T07:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I'm a poet
I'm sorry I'm a dreamer
I'm sorry I'm a hopeless romantic sliding towards the abyss and still waiting for my knight in shining armor to save me
I'm sorry your not him
I'm sorry for the ruined friendship
I'm sorry for the tension between us
I'm sorry that things won't ever be the same again
I'm sorry I'm trapped in my cage with so many different locks
I'm sorry you don't have any of the keys
I'm sorry I projected my image of the perfect man on you
I'm sorry you have so many of the qualities I want
I'm sorry I'm not the woman you want
I'm sorry that I want to be
I'm sorry I wrote those words
I'm sorry that you read them
I'm sorry that the few precious moments we had will be the only ones
I'm sorry that one day I'll get over you
I'm sorry for the way I feel
But don't feel sorry for me
I feel sorry enough for the both of us
I'm sorry I'm a poet
I'm sorry I'm a dreamer

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Inequality

2008-10-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

You speak on inequality as if your the only one
Whose looks keep you from being a top gun
You say your heritage and beliefs are not accepted by others
You only have friends among your sisters and brothers
You say the color of your skin has kept you out of the loop
Your living situation was like a chicken coop
You say you have a mind that is a terrible thing to waste
But you can't be helped, only place

Now listen to me as my words spill out
And maybe you'll learn why I like to shout
DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE
To be short fat and white

Sitting alone in the back of the class
Trying not to draw attention, just trying to pass
Then the teacher makes you move in closer
And everyone thinks your a smart ass poser
Dressing like a boy and never wearing make-up
Because mom couldn't care enough to show you how to fake it
Two little sisters with no one to guide them
When dad gets drunk its me who hides them
Yeah, growing up was faster for me
Being the oldest of us three
Making lunches and cooking dinner
Making sure they never got any thinner
Doing the shopping and making the lists
Now remember I was only 13 and had no tits

Now imagine as I got older
Things got worse the started to smolder
School was easy and I was bored
And all the girls around me were being whores
The pregnant girl got a special class
That bitch graduated without needing to pass
I tried to rise above my poverty capers
Filling out all those massive papers
I applied at big colleges and little ones too
Trying on that scholarship shoe
But I never did find the one that fit
Because you have to be "different" to get that shit
Parents make too much for aid
To little for the bills to get paid
Caucasian, short and female to boot
Do you think those grant givers could even give a hoot

Its ok for you to be hippy and thick
but they say on me, it only looks sick
Go ahead and practice your voodoo
Who speaks in tongues, that's right you do
But does anyone look at you funny?
No, but I've been fired...twice....for religion honey

Molested, beaten I have even known rape
And yet I have never given up on my fate
I am stronger than you can see
I have risen above my poverty
I never did make it to university
Not public, not private, not even fucking community
But I made sure my sisters went
I tutored them till my mind was spent
I taught them values and the meaning of hard work
I taught them how to make a killer roast pork

Now look at me I'm 28
My son is only 3 isn't that great
I have never been on welfare, never on WIC
I just don't have time for that shit
I work 40 or more hours a week
I have no time
To stand in line
Looking bleak

I think I have done rather well
To rise above my earlier hell
And yet still I am sad to see
People who started out just like me
Creative, smart, with potential to spare
Who fell through the crack because no one could care
Just another statistic they say
Or he's white, she's asian, they'll be ok
But you see I find
That if you close your eyes and open your mind
You'll see that it's not the color of your skin
What matters is the person within

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The Moment

2008-10-09T08:44:00.000-07:00

The moment we had was fleeting but true
I know I could only have had it with you
My only beacon in the dark cold night
Is when my mind takes fantastic flight
Thoughts of lands so far away
A wish that there could be one more day
Falling into Love's sweet embrace
A touch of hope and lasting grace
Flying on silken gossamer wings
Wading into magical springs
Seeing dream turned reality
Touching the impossibility
In my heart the fantasy reigns
But in my mind the reality pains
I know what we have is sweet
But there is an end that we must meet
I live for the hope that forever we'll be
But I can't see past you and me
There's another world outside our door
One that we can't escape anymore
Don't think that my heart is breaking
Because it's the moment that we are making
Memories of you holding me near
Chasing away my biggest fear
The strength that you have lent
Is more than any have ever spent
Know, that when I find love true
I'll see it because of you
Don't forget the past we've made
Sharing secrets in the old oak shade
Trading tales of future glory
Weaving our own fantasy story
So read the chapter and remember it well
And never forget our sweet love spell
In the book the page will turn
Hope and love was our lesson to learn
But on life's outward spin
We may yet meet again
And start a sequel to the first
Maybe add a poetry verse
Who knows to where we go
As we follow life's meandering flow
Just keep it close to your heart
And eve after we dearly depart
Together we will always have
The moment we shared on life's strange path

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The Lion and the Lady

2008-10-08T15:37:00.000-07:00

The Lion and the Lady were quite an unlikely pair
He was dark and majestic, she was small and fair
He travelled the world breaking all of man's laws
She stayed at home becoming one with the gods
But a single day's chance, the need to share fire
Sparked a mutual interest, a reciprocal desire
With honeyed words and a passionate touch
The Lion led the Lady into searing lust
It started out from the very first
As a way to quench the carnal thirst
But what neither could see, what neither could know
Was how their passion would blossom and grow
As the first tender shoot through the earth will shove
Grew the first wispy tendrils of an emotion called Love
Days drifted by and they played their parts
Sharing their minds and opening their hearts
But the Lady was afraid that it wasn't enough
And the Lion worried that it was too much
Still pursued by gallant knights
Promising safety and romantic rites
The Lady left the Lion in his den
She was off to be wooed by other men
But no one warned her of shining knights with golden hair
That a woman's heart they would not handle with care
Deeper and deeper she felt bereft
As one by one the shining knights left
Now, you see, she is no longer small and fair
No longer alone but part of a pair
Years have passed and every now and then
The Lady thinks of the Lion in his den
Does he still sing, does he still dance
Is there even the smallest chance
Through life does he still rush head in the wind
Living it as if it will never end
And she wonders oh she wonders
If she had stayed inside the Lions deep covers
Would she have remained an respected Lady
And not a tarnished woman with a handsome baby

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Warning Signs

2008-10-07T08:34:00.000-07:00

I need to put a sign right there
That says “Caution: fragile, handle with care”
Maybe I should hand out little notes
With everything about me put in quotes
“Likes to read and write and laugh
Puts everything in plus time and a half”
“Easily trusting and ready to listen
With soft brown hair and blue eyes that glisten”
“Sometimes talks a little too much
Likes to be treated with a tender soft touch”
“Patience is virtue number one
Completely in love with her only son”
“Totally comfortable with her weight
And still looking for that fabled soul mate”
“Tries not to judge on first sight
Knows the difference between wrong and right”
“Tough as nails and soft as satin
Knows a few words in ancient Latin”
“Keeps the peace in family affairs
Tracks the details with out splitting hairs”
“Likes to keep her eyes on the prize
Respects her elders as learned and wise”
But above all others, I should say
Is to keep one on me every day
Pin it to my shirt right there
“Caution: fragile, handle with care”

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Spiral

2008-10-06T10:06:00.000-07:00

Round and round it goes
Where it stops no one knows
That’s life’s spiraling wheel
It has the power to hurt and the power to heal
Everyone’s trek isn’t the same
Just as everyone calls it by a different name
Spiraling through loves, passions, and hates
Playing our hand as dealt by the fates
Some with the flush and some with a pair
Some with a hard life and some with the fair
One is a Muslim the other a Jew
Everyone arguing over which one is true
Red, Yellow, Black and White
Killing each other to prove which is right
This is mine and that is yours
We own everything that walks on all fours
Trees have no meaning they’re just for decoration
Did you forget that tress will be our salvation?
A million and one baby daddies and mamas
We are all just living in our own daytime dramas
They say getting older is just a disease
That can be cured with gels, creams, and surgeries
Being a parent is one of life’s greatest joys
Except to the mom who drowned her little boys
The teen gone bad and dealing in the hood
Grew up to realize that life can be good
The poor single mom trying to make ends meet
Falls in love with a prince and swept off her feet
The rich man who loses it all in the crash
Now finding dinner in someone’s trash
The woman whose beauty inspires
Killed by a man for his carnal desires
To some it’s a blessing to others it’s viral
The path we take on life’s crazy spiral

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The Girl in the Corner

2008-10-03T15:31:00.000-07:00

Everyday you see her sitting in the same spot. Pen in hand, notebook on her lap. What does she write that must be given so much attention? Is it a journal, a poem, a story, a thesis on the human attitude toward literary science? Over and over you play these thoughts in your head, all the while dissecting her appearance. Long hair pulled up in a ponytail, reading glasses sliding down her nose. A t-shirt that just barely shows off the feminine line of her torso and dark blue jeans that hang shapelessly from her hips. Her shoes are worn and comfortable looking. Her skin is fair and clear of any blemishes other than the slight freckles that dust her nose and cheeks. Her ears are like delicate pink porcelain when the sun shines through them. Her mouth is proportioned well, with a bow shaped upper lip and a slightly fuller bottom lip. Occasionally her tongue darts out to wet those lips. You have never seen her eyes because every time you walk by her head is lowered or her eyes are closed in concentration. However, you suspect that that they are a lightly darker shade of the mousy brown of her hair. To you she seems plain and unremarkable. Everyday you have seen her and every day she is the same. Only the color of her clothes changes. Until today, today is special. Today you took a moment to sit down and relax. You sat on a bench across from her corner. You have been looking at her without seeing her. Then, a movement. Slowly her head tilts up and briefly the sun glints from her glasses before she takes them off. She smiles and you see the slow curve of her lips. Her tongue lingers for a fraction of a second as she wets her lips this time. There is an astonishing sexuality about the moment that causes you to raise your gaze to look her in the eyes. And behold, you find yourself drowning the dark lagoon depths of her sapphire eyes. There is a movement in their depths like a serpent in the sea, and you recognize it as amusement. Stunned at the humor showing on her face you stare slack-jawed, because before what you thought was a mousy brown slightly weird girl in the corner has, in the simple act of smiling and making eye contact, transformed into a creature of controlled sensuality. With a low chuckle she speaks to you in a sinfully sensuous and husky voice, she tells you:

“What treasures we find when we take the time to stop and enjoy the day”