Rolling
Tumbling
Music on the lips, in the ears, through the heart
Bump bump, thump,
Smack your knee in time to the radio
You shake my body, you make me sing,
However badly it may sound
Jumping, twirling, leaping spinning – careful, don’t fall down!
Don’t try to rhyme, just feel the rhythm –
Don’t try to balance, just fall into grace –
Start right now, take that some how
Let the beat carry your soul
Let the drum take you way
How can listening be so grand
How can wishing feel this bad
Don’t get stuck!
Let loose,
Wiggle your toes!
A lost green cap,
A silver snap
A dot on the map
We took a nap
Under the trees
Reminds me of those days –
The simple life
The easy ways
The rays of sunlight peeking through –
Reminds me of you.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
24 hour Road Trip
The buzz of the needle – penetrating my entire body
After having spent the past six hours waiting for my turn
I was anxious, and ready, oh so ready
As his hand moved over my collar bone, I shut my eyes
Looking out made it worse
Seeing only blackness, the edge was real, but I could breath
Pain like perfect agony seared across my shoulder
I made a face, and he said nothing
I tried to breath, but no air reached my brain
Briefly, he moved away, I inhaled deeply, air filled my belly
As the point pierced my skin again, I exhaled, trying to make it last
“This is real,” I repeated over and over in my head, “This is real.”
There was no checking out, no zoning, no spacing, no leaving my body.
I was called to attention every moment the tiny silver needle ripped through my skin
Paralyzed I could not utter a sound
Feeling like a child, I tried to hold my ground
Each grimace, I consciously relaxed my jaw
Every flinch I tried to make a mental dance
But the pain was present – ever present
I watched the others move about the shop
Listened to their stories,
Their jokes,
Their songs
Their friendly banter
But my mind was focused only on the sting of tearing flesh
From across the room, he caught my eye, and made a face –
I laughed,
I could not help myself
I was being silly,
I was making a big deal out of on hour and a half in the chair
Relax, girl, it will all be over soon
And it was
Now, on my right shoulder I have a sunflower ¬–
A flower for my love of travel, for beauty, for all the women who mean so much to me
And on my left shoulder, closest to my heart, I have a sunflower –
A flower for my best friend who lives in France
After having spent the past six hours waiting for my turn
I was anxious, and ready, oh so ready
As his hand moved over my collar bone, I shut my eyes
Looking out made it worse
Seeing only blackness, the edge was real, but I could breath
Pain like perfect agony seared across my shoulder
I made a face, and he said nothing
I tried to breath, but no air reached my brain
Briefly, he moved away, I inhaled deeply, air filled my belly
As the point pierced my skin again, I exhaled, trying to make it last
“This is real,” I repeated over and over in my head, “This is real.”
There was no checking out, no zoning, no spacing, no leaving my body.
I was called to attention every moment the tiny silver needle ripped through my skin
Paralyzed I could not utter a sound
Feeling like a child, I tried to hold my ground
Each grimace, I consciously relaxed my jaw
Every flinch I tried to make a mental dance
But the pain was present – ever present
I watched the others move about the shop
Listened to their stories,
Their jokes,
Their songs
Their friendly banter
But my mind was focused only on the sting of tearing flesh
From across the room, he caught my eye, and made a face –
I laughed,
I could not help myself
I was being silly,
I was making a big deal out of on hour and a half in the chair
Relax, girl, it will all be over soon
And it was
Now, on my right shoulder I have a sunflower ¬–
A flower for my love of travel, for beauty, for all the women who mean so much to me
And on my left shoulder, closest to my heart, I have a sunflower –
A flower for my best friend who lives in France
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Questions Arise...
What does it mean to…?
How can I get…?
What does my heart…?
How can I change…?
What is my…?
How do I find…?
Where can I find…?
When will it…?
How long…?
I am bound, I am not bound…
Love.
The answer.
Tell me.
The world.
True passion.
My niche.
You.
Arrive.
Until I know.
By a promise, by a promise.
...But only words cannot answer
How can I get…?
What does my heart…?
How can I change…?
What is my…?
How do I find…?
Where can I find…?
When will it…?
How long…?
I am bound, I am not bound…
Love.
The answer.
Tell me.
The world.
True passion.
My niche.
You.
Arrive.
Until I know.
By a promise, by a promise.
...But only words cannot answer
Friday, November 13, 2009
Midnight or 12 AM
For fear of being too pretentious
I’m going to say, good morning
For fear of sounding like a pompous ass
I’m going to say goodnight
Nothing makes sense anymore
Not words, not stories, not nothing
I don’t know how to say it
Or even what I’m trying to say
Most days I don’t even know what NOT to say
I’m 22 and have made conclusions for the world, out of my delusions
I’m sinking fast
On a raft made of lonely nights and black and white photographs
I’m drowning
In a wine glass half full or is it half empt-…
I’m gulping in a lungful of salty ocean spray
How should I begin to explain myself
What is there left to say
It’s all been said, a dozen times
Grow Up
Take a look around
They’re all singing it
You must BE that change you wish to see in the world
Don’t stop Believing
Put on your Red shoes and Dance
Give up, and give yourself to me
Never!
Just you wait
I’ll conquer you with the brilliance of a sunflower
I’ll take you down while dancing the tango
I’ll nock your socks off when you look into my crystal ball of golden brown leaves, scrunched up like something special
These voices in my head just won’t shut up
Who are they anyway
Not you, not me, not anyone really
Wake up and smell the coffee
A New Dawn’s Coming
And it’s staring you in the face
Run to the Middle of the Morning
And see if you can’t find that pot of Gold
I’m going to say, good morning
For fear of sounding like a pompous ass
I’m going to say goodnight
Nothing makes sense anymore
Not words, not stories, not nothing
I don’t know how to say it
Or even what I’m trying to say
Most days I don’t even know what NOT to say
I’m 22 and have made conclusions for the world, out of my delusions
I’m sinking fast
On a raft made of lonely nights and black and white photographs
I’m drowning
In a wine glass half full or is it half empt-…
I’m gulping in a lungful of salty ocean spray
How should I begin to explain myself
What is there left to say
It’s all been said, a dozen times
Grow Up
Take a look around
They’re all singing it
You must BE that change you wish to see in the world
Don’t stop Believing
Put on your Red shoes and Dance
Give up, and give yourself to me
Never!
Just you wait
I’ll conquer you with the brilliance of a sunflower
I’ll take you down while dancing the tango
I’ll nock your socks off when you look into my crystal ball of golden brown leaves, scrunched up like something special
These voices in my head just won’t shut up
Who are they anyway
Not you, not me, not anyone really
Wake up and smell the coffee
A New Dawn’s Coming
And it’s staring you in the face
Run to the Middle of the Morning
And see if you can’t find that pot of Gold
Thursday, November 12, 2009
November 12th
I wake up to the sound of my phone going off –
It’s a text from my dear friend
I have three more that I haven’t even read yet
Today is going to be a very good day
Stumbling, sleepily into the kitchen, I discover that my mother has bought me flowers
Sunflowers
My favorite
This day just keeps getting better
After rehearsing my lines for the play while atop the porcelain thrown
I barely make it to my yoga class in time
Two other people come into class after I do – I don’t feel so bad any more
Coffee with the girls, then down town to enjoy the Autumn day
Yellow leaves cover the wilting grass and the breeze blows hard
Heading into shops, we find things that make us laugh
In the art store – paint brushes that feel like silk again our cheeks
In the show store – the most hideous of shoes
In the candy shop – everything phallic
Then home for lunch and 12 e-mails later I’m still smiling
Out again – vintage black dress with a brown leather belt
I’ll wear that Saturday
No paintings of Jeanne d’Arc in the library’s collection
That’s the least of my worries, I have a gift certificate to get new shoes!
Home again and more smiles – who knew so many people cared!
White wine and spaghetti with my mom
She told me I woke her up laughing in my sleep last night
Something must be going right in my life
Mona Lisa Smile
Hot chocolate
Bed Time
What a fabulous Birthday
Let’s make tomorrow just as good!
It’s a text from my dear friend
I have three more that I haven’t even read yet
Today is going to be a very good day
Stumbling, sleepily into the kitchen, I discover that my mother has bought me flowers
Sunflowers
My favorite
This day just keeps getting better
After rehearsing my lines for the play while atop the porcelain thrown
I barely make it to my yoga class in time
Two other people come into class after I do – I don’t feel so bad any more
Coffee with the girls, then down town to enjoy the Autumn day
Yellow leaves cover the wilting grass and the breeze blows hard
Heading into shops, we find things that make us laugh
In the art store – paint brushes that feel like silk again our cheeks
In the show store – the most hideous of shoes
In the candy shop – everything phallic
Then home for lunch and 12 e-mails later I’m still smiling
Out again – vintage black dress with a brown leather belt
I’ll wear that Saturday
No paintings of Jeanne d’Arc in the library’s collection
That’s the least of my worries, I have a gift certificate to get new shoes!
Home again and more smiles – who knew so many people cared!
White wine and spaghetti with my mom
She told me I woke her up laughing in my sleep last night
Something must be going right in my life
Mona Lisa Smile
Hot chocolate
Bed Time
What a fabulous Birthday
Let’s make tomorrow just as good!
Monday, November 9, 2009
TIME
It’s creeping up on me
It’s getting closer
The days are getting shorter
The years are zooming by
I look back at pictures
My face is getting leaner
My body’s getting stronger
I am less afraid
I remember you and I’m sorry I never got a chance to say goodbye
There are things I have wanted for a while – where did these things stem from?
How long have I wanted them?
And what has been stopping me from obtaining all that I can?
It’s knocking at my door
It’s about to spill over the edge – SURFACE TENSION!
It’s catching on like wild fire
Burning away the underbrush that has cluttered the forest floor for centuries
Can I really be this old?!
I’m not old, God is old, the Koran is old, I am not old!
Cat’s don’t place judgment, why should you?
“Because it’s my right!” You say
You have a right, and so do I
I have a right to put on a red hat and strut in my skivvies down Main Street
I think I’ll do just that!
Ta Ta For Now!
You old bag of cockles
I have a right to act my age, or not!
It’s getting closer
The days are getting shorter
The years are zooming by
I look back at pictures
My face is getting leaner
My body’s getting stronger
I am less afraid
I remember you and I’m sorry I never got a chance to say goodbye
There are things I have wanted for a while – where did these things stem from?
How long have I wanted them?
And what has been stopping me from obtaining all that I can?
It’s knocking at my door
It’s about to spill over the edge – SURFACE TENSION!
It’s catching on like wild fire
Burning away the underbrush that has cluttered the forest floor for centuries
Can I really be this old?!
I’m not old, God is old, the Koran is old, I am not old!
Cat’s don’t place judgment, why should you?
“Because it’s my right!” You say
You have a right, and so do I
I have a right to put on a red hat and strut in my skivvies down Main Street
I think I’ll do just that!
Ta Ta For Now!
You old bag of cockles
I have a right to act my age, or not!
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