Life Changer.


you are a piece of me

like an pendent you sparkle

blinding strangers with your raze of grace you tower high

into this world look down and see nothing

specks of green,brown moving down highways but yet

you feel small,engulfed by crowds of screams and glassy eyes

they await for you

to feel your warmth as you shut the door

they long to move on but in that split second

they are with you

and their lives are changed forever

 

Today is my mom’s birthday and I can’t even tell you how many lives she touches and changes everyday. She is a wonderful women and I’m proud to call her my mom

 

Happy Birthday Mom!

 

Love Sarah.

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Doing Your Buisness


It’s something everyone has,

like a shit you just can’t get out without pushing hard.

sitting there around a porcieln   dome  your ass

staring down at the still neon blue water.

You wonder how many asses have imprinted that seat

marking its territory with its pimples and little hairs that fall out

when they pee.

You wonder what kind of diseases you would get if you sat down long enough

And waited for the parasites to feed on your inner membranes of your cheek.

But taking the risk is more comfortable

Because you feel like you’re home listening to the clock tick

Concentrating on the task at hand and relaxing reading the paper

Magazine, wishing you can move on

And continue with your life

In peace.

#1  I’m going to Alaska, you’ll see  pictures when I get back.

#2 Inspired by the Men in my Life.

#3 Grind #6

I’ll see you all in a week.

Sarah

Not Knowing.


I feel your soggy eyelashes pressing

Against my face and I  stand there cold

like that January night.

You are crying because you are not sure

where to go without the fire of my hands, and I too

am not sure.

 

You look at me like I know the answer

that I am a calculator and I can spit out answers

I cannot.

I am a book that is unfinished

a poem without an ending

and I cannot answer my own questions

let alone yours.

 

 

 

I wish people weren’t so dependent on me. I’m just me.

 

Grind #2 : I guess this will be every other night.

Window Watching


Hands.smooth

chipped polish you slide your hand against the canvas

painted with reds and pinks  my viens like lines curves,  my hips

The sun peeks, wanting to see the play, the clouds dancing in a ballroom

You the star, but the stars are sleeping

and you and I standing. silk melts

hitting the floor and nerves float out the window like cigarette smoke.

the audience  sees blurred

but you and I can only dance.

Draft #1: Fail.


I don’t know where

we are headed

Or if we are headed

at all but I have waited weeks

months,year for something

to happen but nothing

has changed.

I tell myself that it’s just me

That I am the problem

The equal sign does not show

The answers that I

can form.

Equations,formulas

The eraser instead of point

Scratched out

I hear the church bells echo in the  silence

my cries create a harmony The organ and chorus

rattles vibrating chandeliers

Bread handing in the air

And I don’t understand.

You sit. Overstuffed couch sitting

In a pile of  shit (metaphorically)

Waiting for me to come back.Waiting

For something to change,but you and I both know

It wont.


I want to fuck my editor.

I want him to plant his seedinto every word

fertilizing it with red ink and anger.

stroking the pen against paper delicately,

making me feel fizzy

But flat.

Ripping off my top and deleting it

so he can take a look at the similies and metaphors

sucking them till they pop. He’ll scan it

analyzing every muscle, every tense spot.

“work from the bottom and up each stanza”

I crouch down and look down at his tan bare feet

and think

Maybe we can make this ours

A little sexy Ars Poetica…

Wanted to thank  http://ericmvogt.wordpress.com for nominating me for my first award. It’s an amazing feeling to be recongized. I try to write poetry thats not all love poetry and when I do challenge myself and someone notices I really appreciate it. Thank you Eric!!

Ars Poetica

Behind the Closed Door


He told me not to do it

But I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob

He said no, I don’t want

You to see me

Like

this.

He told me not to do it

But I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob

Because I wanted to see what

He’d do to me

If he found

Out why.

He told me not to do it

But I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob

Because I never listened

I say,

I don’t care what you look

Like.

It’s been years Jared,

Please.

I won’t judge you, you know

That.

He told me not to do it

But I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob

Because I respected him, not only as a person

But also as a friend

I say you aren’t in Iraq

So don’t be worried

Then I let go

He whimpers on the other side

Of the door, but I haven’t walked away

yet.

But I slide down the door

Waiting

For him

To call out

And willing to wait

Is worth it

And I will wait,

Will you?

Inspired by the poem BlueBird By Charles Bukowski

Here’s the link if you want to check it out

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bluebird/

Thank you Adele for getting me through this long night.

Budged.


Women like are rocks

Stuck to the ground

Until the storm comes and pushes me along

I stare in the mirror at a woman

I don’t know.

Furrowed brow line

I wait for calmness

Nothing.

I look out the window

The world is moving along

And I am sitting

Looking through my life, a planner

Always on point

On schedule.

It’s hard

Not telling secrets

To people who care

To walk around with an illness

That people would mock me if

they knew.

But I am not living

just existing

Following through

Not quitting

Never looking weak

But the current is coming

And I cannot hold on much longer.

Beautiful Girl.


 

I watch the men and women

People I knew

People I loved

Black dresses, suits

Emerging into all doors

The clicking of high heels

Echo the empty church

We are waiting

for her

The organ begins to play

An hour glass of time

Till we will see her

Men weeping for a woman

Who touched the young, old

And me, we watch

As she is glides

in a shiny oak casket

Towards the man who she had always loved

Even though he took her only son

The perfume of flowers

Engulf our sense

As our priest

Blankets her in frankincense

Blessing her

And wishing her a safe trip

I watch her daughter

My friend

Stand at a podium

Telling the world how wonderful her mother is

Was

And me thinking

“thank god it wasn’t mine”

salt from my eyes

Slip into my mouth

I look at her

Tearless,

she smiles down

At the mother she once hugged

Once kissed

And says

“I will make you proud mom”

RIP Yvonne Mckay 12/2007

Waiting.


At this moment

This millisecond

I am the happiest

I will ever be.

You are far out into the distance

Where traffic lights are turning red

But yet some people,

including you, will go anyway.

I watch

snow

Kiss concrete so delicately,

Sipping warm coffee

Made just right.

You pants lay on the floor

A souvenir of your existence

Watching me

Screaming at

Me.

I walk over them

Like an uneasy bridge

Shuffling across the hardwood floor

Of mine,

Our

Apartment.

The clock ticks loudly

Hanging over my head

It counts the seconds

Moments

Till you are home again.