Editing - rough draft
It was many and many a year ago
as I knelt down on my knee
three roses and cognac were left to bestow
an honor to you from me,
and these gifts were bought with no other thought
than to be placed here just by me.
I am your fan and they are your fans
as I'd kneel down on my knee
but we knew what we knew was more than we knew--
in this honor to you from me;
a gift of love that each year would show
an honor to you from me.
what utter nonsense
"go placidly amidst the noise and haste"
i'm not sure but i'm the fool that rushes
bangs my head on the open door, my feelings old
stains on the short
shirt, cuff links hanging from my ears
like discipline my mother wore around her
finger, circles of a wedding ring, there's only the
scent of peonies and lilacs now and stories
she told about the hows and whys of stories
becoming the hows and whys of a mother's
life, i drown myself on the edge of nothing
i can come up with
reasons why i smoke
why i eat more when sad
i can explain how socks
magically disappear
in the machine
none come to mind
when each season
sees you as
a tired excuse
i carry in my back pocket
In Sacramento was I born too soon.
Those days the premature were bound to die,
yet somehow I was grant a doubtful boon
and left alone to live not knowing why.
But two pounds in the manger early June,
sans nails and ears stuck out as if to fly.
For thirteen years my parents had been wed,
at last to birth a creature best off dead.
The night hurls torrents against dark glass,
the trees, unseen, are set to dance.
Tonight this tempest, too, shall pass
with dawn's promise of another chance.
On such nights old men sit and think
of day just gone, as well as all;
lightning flashes blink to blink,
the tick of time just down the hall.
Envy of lives lived fancy free,
and what such freedom must feel like.
Such a life was never meant for me,
my thumb destined to plug the dike.
cut me the slack
and watch my back
the bitterness black
bottomless and
verve struck
rings like a hot nerve
we cut
this love
excites
these words entice
like a kiss
wanton and
never given
like an obsession
driven
"The current rate of extinction is 100 to 1000 times higher than the average, or background
rate, making our current period the 6th major mass extinction in the planet's history."
at the expense of being human
the world is burning....
the aftermath of Civilizations,
less than empathetic
and intelligent
..
species vanish
a picture speaks for what the passenger
pigeon carried to the light of day,
Loser
I try to a be a good daughter
a caring sister , be the best I can be.
It’s not enough,
Try to be me and let people be who they need to be.
Make an attempt not hurt any one
to consider everyone, but
I manage to cause pain,
my soul is drained.
Try to be me and let people be who they need to be.
I have so much love to share
but my vulnerabilities,
mean my heart is ripped out,
I’m going under.
Hear the cry,
I can never win.
through the brilliant synchronicity
of all dynamic facets
she creates a vision
graceful
and lithe
a richly colored voice caresses
deep warm
breathy phrases
dancing through small giggles
and a sensual smile
then
without segue
robust laughter
disarming even the most rigid of cynics
a bit imperious
(in the best sense only)
yet, earthy as an heartland cornfield
she is a masterpiece
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.