I sit in this car. As the wheels turn, I sit. Their mouths move but I cannot hear them. The speakers play, loudly, these songs, these truths.
Everything around me doesn’t feel real. I’m stuck. Forbidden to leave. All I can think about is what may have happend…? Can it be fixed? Is this what I really wanted? Did I make a mistake?
All I can see is your face. All I can feel are butterflies.
Are they of disgust, torture, anxiety or just my nerves?
I tried to wait. Then I got wrapped up in something new. It failed. So there I was, stuck.
I waited. I tried to keep waiting. That’s all I’ve ever done. That’s all I know.
So I wait and see.
I hope and pray this is what I need.
Confusion will always be on my mind. On my shoulder. That’s what makes these things so difficult. This life. This love.
I know I’ll miss your touch, your sense of appreciation, your smile. I’ll miss you.
Why is life so unfair as to give me two of the one thing I’ve always wanted?
I hit a fork in this scary road.
So, is it to the left or the right?
Maybe I’ll stick with the middle……….
December 31, 2008
This called life and love. -Anna
December 24, 2008
Lithesome Tag-Lesley
The truth is that verse in Ephesians 5 recognizes the differences in males and females in Christian marriage and assigns different roles for. I really like this poem because it is the description between the differences in each for thoughts on romantic sex.
It’s A
Lithesome Tag
No one locates it deep inside
It’s just yours
They can’t find it
Even if they look
Yet, it’s pliant
Then one day some
Bee’s wondering ways
come round
Old in town
Knows where to
Shake it up
Bring you out
Find the spot that
Seems to hide
Just enough
To keep you
Confiding
in your place,
Your mark
There he flies
Bending
For you
Saying the words that
Connect
In the dark
With your eyes
Closed
And he doesn’t even have wings
Yeah…
No moon light
To show you
Anything
Just wringing round
Hearing sounds like
uh uh
Finding peaks half way
Finding buttons
Down rays
Of sparkling dark
night
Lithesome tag
He realize it
And he’s got you twirling
round and round
His life
Right now
To surreptitious
Unshared
Yet, with Bee you
Bare
Everything
Even though it’s still dim
You covet him
Down there
With your lips
You have no wings either
But, delicious
He likes your
Comfort
For now yet, only hours
Have knowledge
of this place
and no friends can
find any space
to save you
iniquity
to some
who would not
dare to come
to this hint
you have argued before
that a tag
is for sure
an open door
and now you know
it
Bee, he’s not through
With you
Just building lag
For your embodiment
When he’s done
When you’ve quit
Are you sure he won’t
Come back
Steal this
hush-hush
its just a lithesome tag
and you wanted Bee
to find it…
December 20, 2008
FORTRAN, formula translator-Lesley
So I am worried about my son going to Costa Rica with his asshole dad
who last year tried to throw him in jail in an airport, brought the cops up to question him
about nothing…they finally asked my boy…is this man bothering you?
Now because of some quirk of money the dad, mother fucker, can afford to take him to Costa Rica, and against my own apprehensions I said it will be a good experience……..kinda…..if the boy is arrested in an airport out of the country what do I do?
Angle to the left
not knowing what’s next
It’s something I want to say
I don’t fucking
Care what day
I don’t FUCKING care
Isn’t that what you said
To me over an over again
I do care…
In some forbearing way
it’s
only relative
yeah
December 18, 2008
Piss Your Pants-Lesley
How would that happen?
For many of the world besides the United States, it could be
what happens when a bomb just exploded-
next door of your house,
instead of across the street,
Or maybe, in the USA
It could be
Some magnificent theatrical work,
As a kid,
you watch a magician,
pull a rabbit out of a hat,
It could be all of that-
Instead of laugh,
Piss Your Pants.
December 14, 2008
Taffeta, Calico, and Seams-Lesley
The only reason we have cloth at all is because people from the stone age figured out how to weave some of the many fibers they were accumulating after they ate. They were figuring out how to use it not because they needed to; they could have just discarded it, yet they found a use….we are in a world wide depression, I think we should do the same.
A place where pieces join
Sometimes it feels like a
Tear drop
Sometimes
it feels like the rain.
Really,
you aren’t trying,
to change,
anything,
Like food, clothing, and shelter,
force you forward,
anyway.
I Know people have hearts, and they go to Big Lots or other stores that are good to buy simple things…
blankets, baby toys, food….there are a lot of local shelters, try your churches for one toy, one blanket, a few cans of food.
merry Christmas to all of us………
Birth of Christ.
December 11, 2008
Sometimes the World is Full of Shit-Lesley
My daughter mentioned to me in one of her poems in this blog asking, when she could stop the world on it’s axis
I thought about one…
poem to say…
Sometimes the World is Just Full of Shit
It sounds plangent,
When you hear yourself;
Say something…
Then, the street passes by,
And you ask yourself what the…why?
At my age, finally,
I only react at all,
To teach,
I don’t even need to ask myself,
“Was I heard?”
Really,
Nobody understands themselves
Like “I,”
And who am I to judge that?
When sometimes the world is just full of shit.
December 7, 2008
Scalidi, Scalidi, Scalidi-Lesley
The celebration starts with flutes of Moscato d’Asti-white wine and champagne mixed — a fruity, slightly sweet, spritzy wine (Italians drink it on Christmas morning too) — with home-canned vegetable antipasti and garlic-and anchovy-with crusty bread. Pasta, spinach or broccolini (BROCCOLI) sautéed with garlic and pour a ½ cup of red wine. Gelato and scalidi — Italian fried cookies
Scalidi, Scalidi, Scalidi
What were you thinking?
Warm bread
Warm fried bread
With honey
Isn’t everything suppose to be with honey
All those recipes
With honey
All those anniversaries
With honey
Give me more
Honey
AND
Fried bread
Need the yeast
and the adorning hands
Need the lunch menu
to
Happen when
the bell Chimes at
Christmas
can’t
you hear it
Scalidi
I can hear it
Fried bread
It’s Scalidi
Fried with honey-
Salute
December 3, 2008
Sounds-Lesley
In the past you had to be auditory.
That’s how you heard about it,
to understand ideas, people, and things…
WAR
ART
they are
three letter sounds and primitive,
in six or two,
who knew,
When the visual learners took over,
back then,
It was like a sonic boom—
after that,
all Hear Sayers were accosted by
Kings with kinesthetic tribes
Who owned
knights,
crying out loud
about
everything,
that they saw,
eye,
yeah,
to eye,
yeah, imagine that,
heard everything,
and dead,
visualize vibes,
instead,
lives back then
even if it came down to
when certain people were suppose to pass it on,
everything.
To pass it on…to ?
leaders watched,
an old world again,
turn upside down.
In 600’s.A.D.
What?
After That(study),
I started to think
It’s always been that,
turned around,
every time,
“What the FUCK do you want me to do about it?”
December 1, 2008
Libraries and MAMAMMMAMAAAMAMMAAAAs-Lesley
One more peak experiene in my life that happened when I worked in the public library.
There was a group of mentally challenged individuals who visited more than
most patrons. One morning at the information desk, I was asked to come over by one man
who said he wanted me to help him,
to help his friend,
email his mother,
When I arrived at the public computer, a man with cerebral palsy sat infront of the screen
holding
a piece of paper in his hand.
When his mother had phoned last she gave him her email…..nice eh?
One soul
making me cry
Even before
I walked up to him
Sitting there
Looking at the screen
An OPAC
Wanting his mama
His friend
Had come to me
At the desk,
to say,
“My friend
Wants to send
An e mail,
To his
MAMAMAMAMAMAMMMMMMMAAA
I understood his special needs
But it was
Beyond me
to help them both
Even when I tried
In fact,
I feel,
I failed.
MAMAMAMAMAMAMMMMMMMAAA
Yeah me.
Family-Anna
Stressed,
Not because of what life has handed me.
Drained,
Not because of school or my future.
Stressed,
Because of the fighting.
Not only between you and me,
Also between them and me.
Wish to be on an island somewhere in hiding.
If only you could see,
It is not all about you.
It’s about you getting better.
It’s about reawakening what we had too.
Hoping this new change will set their worries free.
They stress about my future,
Then turn around and stress me.
Wishing to stop the world on it’s axis for a moment of peace.
The fog in my mind ceases to stop.
The emptiness in my heart holding my down.
Now all the worries, the stress, and the fighting fills me, making me drown.
Drained,
Because I’m stressed.