“Little Woman”
Little woman, never on the mend.
Little woman, always pretend.
Little woman, heart of stone.
Little woman driving in the cones.
Little woman, instant rebel.
Little woman, crafty devil.
Little woman, sweet enamoress.
Little woman with the wounds you wouldn’t guess.
Little woman, crying inside.
Little woman, living and having died.
Little woman, begging truth.
Little woman, wanting to be with you.
“If”
Possibility crooks its manicured finger
To lure in the bereft and unsuspecting;
The grass on the other side beckons–
“Could be” trails the air like languid smoke
As it moves toward a future we yet know nothing of.
What to do when I am ensnared?
Beguiling are the daydreams of another life
That haunt me when I am completely alone.
There are many different paths to travel
Each with their own gilded allure.
Possibility is a magnificent hostess
Throwing out a bejeweled arm to the dazzling array.
Which one to choose? Like a child among treats
My imagination samples them all before deciding
Which one’s payment would not be hard to bear.
There are paths where I could lose my soul—
Yes, that expense would be far too dear;
But even worse is the route I could take
Where I stood idly by and did nothing at all.
Catastrophic that could be for you and me.
You wonder the reason behind my claim
Backed by that succulent two-lettered word.
Honestly, by now, I have reason to believe
That my future might not be the same
Without you.
The idea for this website, as I have expressed before, came from urging from my ex–Mr. Nameless if you will. (If you couldn’t tell I have based a couple of characters off of him.)Earlier this year, I was trying to come up with content and this was one of the things I sent him. In hindsight, this one makes me a little ill–it seems so saccharine. No wonder he didn’t say anything; I guess he didn’t want to hurt my feelings… 😉
________
“Secret”
I hold you in my palm, fingers closed over—
When everyone is gone I hazard a quick peek.
In corners I delight in the memory of you,
Holding it close when I cannot sleep at night.
To tell the world—the ease is elementary!
But this thrill has too much allure,
And not everyone is worthy to partake
In the knowledge of something so rare.
What induces that smile? The gleam that hints
At a hidden treasure buried in the depths.
“She looks as if she’s gotten lucky,” they say,
And if they knew, they’d know—I have.
“Midnight Moon”
To the eldest, the middle, and the youngest,
The hothead and the blockhead battling incessantly;
To the dancer, the dreamer, and Mr. Urbane,
The Chameleon, the dove, and the hummingbird;
To the one we lost too soon at unknown hands,
The Mama, the Aunt, and the Predecessor;
And to even you lingering in the shadows like Yoda to fix the end–
Welcome back.
Sometimes I shock myself how cynical I can be.
It’s October 17, 2011. My brother’s birthday is the following day, my little sister’s the day after that. My memory is fuzzy on this one, but my guess is that something had happened between myself and Mr. Nameless. (To clarify, so far there has been Mr. Shameless and Mr. Nameless. More to come when I get enough sleep to think of monikers. Tee hee.) I tend to overthink things (of course) and I felt compelled to versalize (I know that’s not a word, but hey) my uneasiness for whatever reason. And then it flourished into something deeper, it seems. I am not sure.
I may extend this, so perhaps it’s more like a snippet right now?
________
“Unrest”
It’s the rumble in the jungle
It’s the plague in the lake
It’s the shock that makes your heart quake
It’s the lead on the evening news
That makes Mama head for the booze
Tear the mattress, dig up the jar
Chill hits no matter who you are
Here comes the unrest
Extra, extra—here’s the headline
While we’re gaping we’re losing time
The hole’s spreading before we prepare
The wrong man’s in the electric chair
And you’re worried about weave in your hair
At the barest sign of any ill
You’re calling the doctor for a refill
Here comes the unrest
Walking through the mall, looking for a party dress this evening, this came to my mind. I think it’s sort of rough. It’s funny to me as an artistic person, that I find myself fashioning my thoughts into verse. I was told by someone that my poetry is more digestible than my prose. True?
_____
“Lover’s World”
Living in a lover’s world
Struggling in the chokehold
Affection remains on sale
Chocolate never fades or goes stale
I peek in windows for my perfect fit–
Will we ever be happy with what we get?
Cinderella’s chattering, telling tales
Scores of girls searching for phantom males
Sorry to reveal–Prince Charming is a trick!
But you can craft your fairytale any way you pick.
Sometimes the answers to our innermost answers come in verse.
I have not named this one yet.
_____
Silly you, silly me–
Back to this dance of circularity;
Which one wins the prize for stupidity?
I hear the call, Logic remains rooted in place
While Impulse gobbles up the space
Between us–Remember the bad! the Dark One warns–
Thrust in Bright I neglect the memory of scars.
Feet apart and you still lure
Me beside with desires sure;
We fall faster than we intend–
Why waste the effort to pretend?
I return to the crime and you let me in–
Mon ami, don’t wonder where to place
Me; better if you don’t cull out a space.
The stories say that this is hardly unusual
But I believe it bears more perusal;
On another day when I bear the armor
I will take you on and test your honor.
For now I savor your precious company
And attempt to beat the swerve,
Hoping to shock you, build up the nerve.
On September 7, 2009, a little person came into my life, and even though I did not birth her, I am amazed by her all the same continuously. She possesses beauty and brains and brawn–and she knows it. Her sassiness exasperates me…until her sweetness bowls me over. To watch her flourish has been a blessing that I wish everyone could experience. I don’t see her as much as I used to several months ago, but I attempt to see her often. A precious thing it is to have little hands that love you.
_____
“Little Hands”
Little hands reach up to me
Eyes glittering like starshine
How can I deny this lullaby?
Grew from fetus to fearless before my gaze
Amazed am I these current days
The wondrous things I hear you say!
The world through your sight
I can only imagine what that’s like
But I’ll have you in mine a long time.
2011 continues to boggle my mind in hindsight. I started out the year searching, discovered and lost, and ended the year figuring I would be searching forever. It was not a welcome realization–until I realized that wonderful things come upon us in time. Even at your lowest, something kindles inside of your heart and soul to keep that fire going. If I can leave you with any thought…
______
“Declaration”
In the still of the winter-night cold
I yearn for someone to hold
But I will not settle
In the bustle of life surrounding
Hand in hand everyone’s bounding
But I will not settle
Private memories break free
Like blood from a love wound, slyly
But I will not settle
Possibility muddies the rationale
And foes desire to be pals;
All the while, life goes blithely on
There’s more in store than is shown–
And somehow you think I’ll settle?
Lonely in the shower of chocolate hearts
And the barrage of sad-to-be-aparts
But no, I won’t settle
The luck is bestown on the others
Their cousins, sisters, and brothers
But no, I won’t settle
I have learned to wait my turn
Despite the heat of envy’s burn
So no I won’t settle
Quiet diligence eases the stings
While others have their flings;
I scan the horizon for a treasure
Accepting none under this high measure;
You’ve lost your mind if you think I will settle!
Even when the shields crumble
And I see you in half-slumber
Even when the slightest crack
Threatens full-fledged attack
Even if the sight of you with the next
Gives me the urge to cry till nothing’s left
I will not waste the time on you–
I will not settle for less than I am due
Once upon a time, a young woman and a young man met beneath a sky of moving stars–
Pfft…I don’t want to begin that way. I’d rather be simple and direct.
On February 14, 2012, I awoke at 4 a.m. not able to sleep. It was Valentine’s Day; I had the itch to write something for my beloved (at the time). It was only the second time I had showed him something I had written, and I was scared that it was too saccharine, too long, too whatever. I worked all day and tried to put it out of my mind. When I had built up the nerve to check my messages, I learned that my fear was unfounded. I was a better writer than I thought.
It’s a little hard to post this. The memories are bittersweet and it makes me feel a little vulnerable. But that’s what time is for, right? To make us wiser and impervious. However, after I sent this to him, he shared it with his friends. So why shouldn’t I?
By the way, the singer referenced in this poem is…well, never mind. I think you’re smart enough to figure it out. 🙂
_____
“Four [In the Deep]”
To Jeffrey
What happens when I am alone and can’t sleep? Drivel, apparently.
A soulful voice echoes in out of the dark–
a conflagration of the chest she declares–
and you and I are enthralled. (Mostly me.)
The journey begins on that rolling note;
It first hiccups over marriages of dichotomy–
You, reveling in the bold; me, cautious
while begging for space and time to grow–
Until we find ourselves face-to-face.
You hold the map, I blithely follow
As you show me the way through my own–
My personal Magellan. (Sort of has a ring, yes?)
The world takes on new dimension
As my knowledge expands with you at the helm.
The soundtrack gently ebbs–your tunes
in the background–as something forms
From our mutual attraction. What to call it?
Too precious to be a lark and damned
If I am the one to utter that swishy roll
of twelve letters. The kiss of death! Ah, maybe.
Suddenly, we are entrenched in one another–
Your fingertips grace my loathed skin
While I watch in wonder; fascinated you are–
To me my dermis is no work of art, riddled
With flaws a younger self inflicted heedlessly.
Yet, still you stroke and show me a Life Aquatic–
Smitten am I, as I don’t worry over my hair.
In my blood you have assimilated with the normal–
Life falters within parameters that don’t include you.
We go in circles, lost then found, here then gone.
I claim befuddlement, but in my musing
Thucydides whacks me in the back of the head–
Yes, with the obvious!–as he would say in our vernacular, “Duh!”
Hindsight is a great teacher, but you defy
Ghosts that whisper of things past;
I am armed with expectation–you, however
Brandish a battle axe for these occasions.
Afterwards I feel like a downed pole,
Dizzy from the jarring collision with Planet Earth
But steadied, ready for anything in your embrace.
Despite the danger, I cannot quit you. She belts
And my heart quivers, my own hands itch
To touch and leave you in wonder–yes, my turn.
The delightful expanse of you holds
The same allure as an unplucked chord–
Wouldn’t you too like to make it thrum?
If I had my way, you would hear me croon
A siren’s song and too be stirred beyond logic.
If I had my way, I could press an ear to you
And hear myself humming under your skin.
I am wary of puppet strings, but to leave
A mark?–yes, a heady thrill indeed.
Latest Hollywood Celebrity & Entertainment News
There's a Whole Lotta Rhythm Goin' 'Round
and I came to hit the floor...
Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.
Stuff and things.
Just words
Creative projects, reviews, illustrations and other work by talented people.
Fear Not Productions 