Ideas for the next poem.... Who knows. Not good yet but will keep me working.
********************
My wish... let me have a few. dammit everyone else gets one...i know sometimes wishes are better unfulfilled you know the one about my high school sweetheart and forever... yeah I am sure my life would be over if that wish had come true
Having you in my life was all i could imagine. Sitting on my dock surrounded by horseshoe lily pads and empty promises
iIlooked into your eyes shaded by RayBan in infidelity “forever is a work tattooed on your misguided soul... if you even have one... obviously the spelling is all wrong. it meant you and me together until the sunsets on our memories.
You and me on that dock I was an immature girl of 17 waiting at the bus stop of hopes and happiness I looked at you sideways in the rays. Your permanence danced upon the waters it would be so easy to believe in your dreams . Hop on board and let it take me to the place where you and I thought we need to be.
Forever - it was the first time i really thought it might happen - it all started in the reflection of those ray bans. at that moment i should have only trusted my reflection seeing the signs... that really no matter who is standing there all i will see and trust in will be me. they say you are your very own friend but you are also the one who will let you down the most Shaded clouded and pressed each to the shielded place in my mind that still believed all your fantasies. i wasn’t listening to the darkened girl looking back, a reflection on your naive hope
Did you really believe tales you spun with you spool of slick jock-like-existence
You lived in a world where you were worshipped. I shouldn’t blame you . They all wanted to be with you, be a part of you... moth to the flame. The only problem is that you were burning yourself. You worked it. You believed it and you gambled it. Understand years later when my forever started to fade the cracked neon light revealed the whit glimmer of bright fighting other way out through the painted mask of Blinking blues and pinks “forever”
We left the save predictability of high school tried out forever, ever after. The reality of who you were or who you were not was revealed without the curtain of GOD. I watched it become truth to you. Desperation hit. You no longer wore the shaded of deception - you no longer saw what you thought others saw the fight to be the best in your eyes tarred you, scarred you - your perception of forever changed to. How could you believe it when you no longer believe the person you were. Years later... As i lay on that dock stomach to the hard wet wood, arms stretched, fingertips playing amongst the water lilies....I realized what forever can be. ME the dreams of forever the wishes of permanence ... lay in my existence. Lay in my control Finally I understood what others closest to me saw. There was a moment to mourn my innocence. But just a moment as quick as that moth burns too close to the flame. My eyes lifted to the new sunrise the new flower budding on the lily. The new forever the new opportunity for the possibilities forever holds for all of us rests upon that girls begging someone else for my life.... the reflection is who i need to hold on to. the reflection shows me a strong girl finally seeing the woman I will be... with me. Forever
Thursday, May 6
Wednesday, April 21
Friday, March 19
Wednesday, March 17
a new one - I really like it
Educated in America
America.
The country of opportunities and rights
Our forefathers
fought for this country so that we could have the opportunity for certain rights.
Education in America
Our Right and Opportunity
Did you know?
There are two types of education available in our country? Did you?
Education that is Free and Education that is Earned
I ask you -
students
families
communities
Which do you choose?
Free or Earned
Let me be very clear. Let me spell it out for you:
On one hand we have:
“FREE”
the buses pick you up / the school is open / the school is heated / meals are available / schedules are created to ensure your success / papers, books and pens are there /
teachers show up / lectures happen / assignments are given / extra help is offered /
computers are plentiful / You can read books, conduct experiments, calculate, create and synthesize.
Thinking is Requested.
All you have to do for this FREE education is to be there
nothing more is required
After all, it is Your Right
Free? Show up. Breathe. Learn my osmosis. yet Blame others for your failed success.
“It’s not my fault I failed. Education is my right and the system failed me.”
OR
on the other hand we have:
“EARNED”
the buses pick you up / the school is open / the school is heated / meals are available / schedules are created to ensure your success / papers, books and pens are there / teachers show up / lectures happen / assignments are given / extra help is offered / computers are plentiful / You can read books, conduct experiments, calculate, create and synthesize.
Thinking
HAPPENS.
It feels so good. Remember the time you pedaled without training wheels? Trepidation and uncertainty mixed with the joy of success... yeah, that good
True Education comes from
Hard Work
Active Participation
a Diligent Passion for Learning
Asking Questions
Learning to develop, offer, support and celebrate your opinions
You challenge yourself and the teachers, “I want to know more about that.”
Earning an Education just feels right.
Education in America...
It’s Your Opportunity... Make it RIGHT.
So It’s Your Opportunity... Make it RIGHT.
what will it be?
Students?
Families?
Communities?
FREE?
no strings no effort no responsibilities
“It’s their fault I am this ignorant.”
OR
EARNED?
an education built from a foundation of hope, passion, and dreams
“It is my fault I am this intelligent.”
no strings no effort no responsibilities
“It’s their fault I am this ignorant.”
OR
EARNED?
an education built from a foundation of hope, passion, and dreams
“It is my fault I am this intelligent.”
Wednesday, March 3
The Show
Integrity.
Honesty.
Compassion.
I am late.
We pull up to the curb / Grab the greasy handle / pay my money.
I dash through the
crowd.
I am late.
Late.
Not really 5 minutes or even the half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when the show is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives. which is
LATE
and General Admission sucks.
General Admission: which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest, fastest and finest.
Waves of bodies.
Tides rush the entrance.
At the door
Holding the door?
Produces a monster of a dilemma do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
That might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Boy or Girl
It
is
all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Integrity.
Honesty.
Compassion.
I am late.
We pull up to the curb / Grab the greasy handle / pay my money.
I dash through the
crowd.
I am late.
Late.
Not really 5 minutes or even the half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when the show is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives. which is
LATE
and General Admission sucks.
General Admission: which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest, fastest and finest.
Waves of bodies.
Tides rush the entrance.
At the door
Holding the door?
Produces a monster of a dilemma do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
That might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Boy or Girl
It
is
all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Wednesday, February 10
updated version - thought I should show revisions
The Show
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion.
I am late.
We pull up to the curb / Grab the greasy handle / pay my money.
I dash through the
crowd
I am late.
Late
Not really 5 minutes or even the half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when the show is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives.
which is
LATE and
General Admission sucks
General Admission: which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest
Waves of bodies
tides rush the entrance
at the door
Hold the door?
Produces a monster of a dilemma
Do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
That might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Boy or Girl it is all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion.
I am late.
We pull up to the curb / Grab the greasy handle / pay my money.
I dash through the
crowd
I am late.
Late
Not really 5 minutes or even the half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when the show is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives.
which is
LATE and
General Admission sucks
General Admission: which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest
Waves of bodies
tides rush the entrance
at the door
Hold the door?
Produces a monster of a dilemma
Do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
That might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Boy or Girl it is all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Tuesday, February 9
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion.
I am late.
The car pulls up to the curb. Grab the greasy handle, pay my money. dash through the
crowd
I am late.
Late
Not really 5 minutes or even a half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when it is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives.
late and General Admission sucks
General Admission which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest
Hold the door which produces dilemma
Do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
So that might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Boy or Girl it is all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
Honesty
Compassion.
I am late.
The car pulls up to the curb. Grab the greasy handle, pay my money. dash through the
crowd
I am late.
Late
Not really 5 minutes or even a half hour kind of late but the kind of late that happens when it is about to start and you arrive the exact moment everyone else arrives.
late and General Admission sucks
General Admission which really means the first one there without regard to rules of society gets the best seat. survival of the fittest
Hold the door which produces dilemma
Do I sneak inside under elbows and armpits, over ankles and knees
or
Do I listen to my dad... he who lives within my inner being screaming to me, "You were supposed to be the boy."
Me the boy with the girl parts.
Me the boy who dressed up in prom gowns - cried over wilting flowers and spent endless Saturday morning listening to mix tapes searching for the hidden "I love you's" in the lyrics.
Me - the boy who developed long before my friends could spell 'p.e.r.i.o.d'
and who couldn't stand gutting a fish
Me - the boy who was born a girl
I had already let him down so much the first few minutes of my life.
So that might be why I listened to all of his lessons.
One which is hitting me hard at this minute of indecision: Holding the door.
A man always holds the door for those of lesser fortitude: old people, any woman,all children, men who might walk with a limp.
Again and still - here I am - at the door... Do I follow the seemingly social norms taught to me - the boy of the family - thus risking my great general admission seat or do I follow my father's teaching and stand here as I hold the door imaging how proud my dad must be to see his little girl emulating his teachings and striving to be the best boy I know how to be.
Boy or Girl it is all about:
Integrity
Honesty
Compassion
Maybe this - this moment of indecision is my show and my dad and I have the best seat in the house.
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