Sunday, August 21, 2011

In my World

At my computer I want to write
Standing near the front of stage I rock to the music
According to my job description I am a teacher
In spite of too many birthdays I am young at heart
Throughout my life I think I’ve try to be a good friend


Behind the curtains there is the window to my soul
Chasing dreams each night during my slumber
Among the lost and gone I seek some type of release
Because of him dying I struggled to find my way
As for today I breathe
Against all odds I am a survivor
Yet, underneath it all I still don’t know who I am right at this moment
Into the future is where I’ll still be learning to be real


Without a doubt - you think I am okay
Apart from me seeing your pain – you never see mine
Among the multitude of all others - you fail to see the unadulterated me
In spite of all this – you see me as a leader
Because behind your curtain I’ll help to unearth the genuine you

Monday, August 8, 2011

Randomness

Randomness

I like words
I want to lose weight
I wish I was a better writer
I like that MOST of the time when I set out to do something I DO IT!
I hate that I am lazy
I thought there would be more time with you my Braveheart
I dislike that we are no longer close middle girl
I need to do laundry
I kind of want a dog
I must exercise more
I would like to be more together as a person
I am grateful and blessed for my life
I require love
I crave chocolate sometimes
I am scared of snakes
I ought to organize my all my pictures
I should get off the computer
I can’t live without coffee
I aspire to live on the beach
I plan to found serenity and peace
I long for someone to give me a pedicure every week
I think it would be neat to have a personal chef
I believe we should celebrate each day
What’s your randomness?

8 August 2011

Friday, August 5, 2011

Fickle Fanny Annie

This poem is at least four or five years old, funny, yet poignant.

Fickle Fanny Annie

Fickle Fanny Annie ought to know her taste
of the kind of guy she wants to date,
She ought not get hooked by sweet smelling bait.

Not just another pretty face,
that she allows to second base.
She needs a man, who can put her in her place,

She needs to quit picking boys, who have issues,
when they feel misused.
Then maybe she can stop stocking up on the tissues.

It’s so sad to see big boys pout,
when she starts looking for an out.
Of course, she could just move south.

It isn’t really her err,
It is not even her burden to bear.
Big Boys should be men and maybe she’d care.

But still, more often than not she gets herself into pickles,
Because she ends up treating boys like they are nickels,
Question is, is she simply fickle?

Monday, August 1, 2011

No Regrets

No Regrets


No regrets is what you said
Like leaves falling
In the autumn breeze

Disentangled
From the games
Two lovers play

Warm gentle spring winds
Fall over me again
No regrets


 

Neither Here nor There


Between two homes
Subsists my heart.
In one I am with my love
The other I strain not to swear.

Obsession.
Distression.