The Gift

Another year is passing,
Still you're still just you
And you mean so much to me
No matter what you do.

Yhe Christmas bells are ringing
Music fills the air.
Everything is super charged
Yet, we're blissfully, unaware.

Maybe it's a power
Harnessed by the rich,
Until, it fell into our hands
And now it's just the gift.

Just do it

I was feeling a lot of remorse for not ever becoming who I thought I would, but then I remembered that seminary video about Martin Harris loosing the plates but the moral being that nothing can thwart God's plans. It is more important that I used what I had, not wether or not I accomplished what I intended or if things seemed unfair. Eve could have played the "fair' card when asked to do contrary things, but instead she saw a larger picture, and accomplished what she could.

uninvited guest

I got the ingenious idea from a play "The Uninvited ghost" that I was in in Junior high I recall practicing screaming for hours in my pillow to sound really scared, but what's more to make the audience scared. I played Marge, I can't even remember the storyline now, anyway. So much for a preface. Wait Poems don't have a preface, this is already probably longer than my poem:

The uninvited guest is most appreciated of all.
When he comes he is a welcome guest, but
No one knows how to compel him
Nor is anyone certain he can be.
Still, won't our house be home with the uninvited guest?

proxy

toss me the idol,
a representation itself
i throw you the whip
we must escape quick!

I just won a huge
Battle with myself
though the war was lost.

How coud you?

I am human afterall! cause I'm angry. I was busy trying to solve"My" problem. but, I am just realizing that I am not the one with the problem.

Hello. Again, Hello. (opposed to hello again. hello)

growing up, I dreamed a life
I never got to live
and stillI tried and failed and tried
Until I wished I'd died.
To live to see my hope turn cold
I never thought I'd know the day
when I'd grow old and lonelier than
I in my early years could say.
such hurt and betrayal,
I never thought I'd feel and yet,
Everywhere I'm treading still
searching high and low...
Hello?

Ressurection

Do all things live again,
Once a thing is gone can it return?
I think to make him happy
To make his half heart whole
I need to help him find true love
Where ever she hath roamed.

My mind wanders off and back
Leaving me behind
Will my haircut hurt, mommy?
Daddy always says things won't

I fell asleep here and never finished it, but I am so happy for sleep.

Taken from a song, reclaimed as poetry

I want to say it plainly
Without any guise
 To make you know the way I feel
 When looking at your eyes (I laugh at this line cause I think of minority report)

But what would you do
 If you knew for sure
 How I truely felt about you?

That sounds like a song
Only I couldn't sing it, I've tried.
Though, I appear to be living
That part of me has died.

Oblivious

This is just an emotionl representation of the way I:

Only care about you when you care about me.
Beyond that there is no reason to even pay that small cover fee you call attention.
Life goes on, without us.

I never even cared about the things you were doing to get my attention.
Variables just clicked into place unlocking the combo lock guarding the secrets you kept.
I cared too much then, and wished that I could somehow go back to my comfortable exsistance before you.
Only your rejection could make me feel. so worthless.
Unprepared for facts, and unable to put up a good fight I just play ignorance, too.
So, is this how we speak to the winner when they are crowned, as if we never cared to win at all anyway.

Why would we?

Steps of Faith

It's an interesting name to have, I used to laugh on the inside when ever I sang, "I walk by Faith, a daughter of heavenly parents..."My college roomate

was named Hope, I loved to leave an answering message on our answering machine, "I cannot bear to answer the phone when Hope is gone!"  Anyhow, without further ado...


I met a girl out walking
out in the icy air
devoid of light but streetlamp
Still, she had no care.

She greeted me with hello.
I asked How do you do?
Oh, fine, she quickly added Please tell me
What is new?

We talked a while of weather
or not we'd rasther be
loved by so many, then
Or simply loved and queen
of something unknown

Looking back, I understand
the trouble of her choice.
On one  side was her freedom
the other, just her voice

This girl,she had a story
she did not want betrayed.
Bestowed it to a stranger
she met at close of day.

Something did not seem quite right,
and yet, I could not say
So, I thanked her for her time
as we parted ways.

I wonder if I ever will
meet with her again.
I'd ask her where she comes from and
Inquire where she's been.

The moral is the story
(anyone can see).
If we are the one we met
their story was of me.

I cannot bear to think of anyone getting a wierd fantastical idea that I am anything but an extremely common woman and mother (which may be redundant) I do not like to be esteemed as greater than I truly am, so it might seem petty to explain away any doubt, but I just had a good day and felt that I would like to write a short story in the form of a poem, tah dah! It was inspired by things I heard today about the "Power" of faith amd was mentally toying with the idea that it is the unknown that makes us wonder and seek more. Great now, I'n singing another song from Chess! trust me, It dpesn't sound pretty, discerning ears or not.

Sorry,

I am not very strong anymore, When an idea fights me, it always wins. The text part ends up here:

When the time comes back again and you land from your ego trip
I'll be here to listen then, and won't ask you where you've been,
it's not that I do not wonder
it's not that I just don't care,
but when you give that much to me, which might be anywhere
It will be your choice.

Oh My!

I am slowly learning the things I thought as a child. They were true, some of them, and this one was saved for after the bad news that so mant of my delusions were precisely that. I am not entirely a fool!

I had thought, it was sort of foreshadowed by a teacher in Enlish Literature who instead of poetry we studied Lyrics from old songs. I then decided that Poetry had been the evolution of song. When I listened more carefully to the Smiths my shock continued, but this I think just occurred to me as I was washing dishes.

The forms used in popular poetry and songs are the very same "forms" I had studied in Form and Analysis courses at Ole Miss (Theory IV). And Lena likes to find patterns in rhyme schemes and I had noticed that they are similar to those we studied, too. This cries out for careful reseach and a dutiful paper by some reknowned musicologist or professor of theory somewhere, currently, i do not have much evidence beyond a hunch. Speaking of hunches, I need to finish my season of "Terra Nova" I had paused it to put the kids in bed. where someone said not to discredit information just because there is no evidence, yet.

My Love

Please note, to assume my poetry to be autobiographical would be your imposition not mine.

I never Loved you
though I wish I did.
And if you loved me back
You'll likely wish you never had
I never want to harm a soul, by doing what I must
But doing what I must I find I'll hurt us both so much

Some things are too painful to write about
And this is one of them, My love

I can't find words
to say what must be said
To write another song of love
A heart, now all has bled
I only want to speak the truth I only want to say
The things to make you understand this love won't go away

Some things are too painful to write about
And this is one of them, My love

My love is like a soldier fighting for the one he holds
in the highest place imagined
Stil another he must harm (Someone must be slain).

I'd like to take all the
Blame for what is done
But, My heart speaks clearly of
A soul who won't be one
My heart won't let me serve a man although he might be king
Steal my heart, not just my head, that is the only thing

Some things are too painful to write about
And this is one of them, My love

A note while I'm here

Joe always wants to play cars. so, I pretended that I (as a car) wanted to go to a drive in and watch a movie! It worked.

Another funny thing.He took off his shirt and wanted to wear one of mine, he found one in my drawer and brought it to me saying " Shirt! Shirt!" He took the dresser apart, too. Silly boy.

Ya know. getting sleep makes me tired!

another song

Still with training wheels. I've not regained my skills, but I don't plan on giving up. i want this too much.

here it is:

I'm sitting on the bed alone
texting on the telephone, just waiting, waiting...
waiting for him to walk in and notice me
will today be the day that I hear him say

My, you look so very pretty
And I think your hair looks nifty.
Can we just sit here for a while? While I sit and stare
And think about how lucky I am just to see one such as you

But, you see me everyday I say
And you know it's true, but I try to turn your head
all of this id do is for you.
All of it's for you. Cause I love you
And I want you to say

My you look so very pretty
And I think your hair looks nifty.
Can we just sit here for a while? While I sit and stare
And think about how lucky I am just to see one such as you

Today will finaly be the day
I feel alright, I look okay.
I look into the mirror and I see
the girl that I always tried to be and now I'll only want one thing. to hear the words in honesty

My you look so very pretty
And I think your hair looks nifty.
Can we just sit here for a while? While I sit and stare
And think about how lucky I am just to see one such as you

but, I'm just sitting on the bed
All of this is in my head
I know he won't walk in and notice me

Excerpt from what I wrote today

This is just the begining, nothing's set in stone,
But something draws you to me. We won't be alone.
This is who I am,
If it's not what you want, I'll just try again, Maybe things will work out
In the end.

.........................

So, now, I've spent a lifetime trying to impress
It seems that my best's not good enough, I never pass the test.
This is who I am,
If it's not what you wanted at least one of us will be happy
In the end.

Deluding of Gylfi

(This is the actual story, alot of changes I wanted to make I didn't disobeying my Holywood notions ofcreating a more interesting story. The story is interesting the way it is)

In the first days of spring
the day was closing
the sun was calling aback it's rays
signaling the end of day
The gods deign to play a little stunt
with a little plot of land
these gods all seemed to be giants
when compared to man
with the exception of a fair woman
who they placed before a king named Gylfi.

Gylfi, though a king was man,
and at the close of day,
This man feared being alone and so he looked for company
disguised as a man named Gangerli, he wandered very far
until he found a certain place
where the wisest of all gathered.

Seeing all of these wise men
his questions began to flow
He asked of earth's creation
So promptly they answer so he seeks more to know
Answered almost too quickly
He knows they cannot be men

But, from their perches above the earth
they spy a way to trap
By filling in his need with the maiden fair
And giving her their wisdom
Now she entered willing to be the mouthpiece of such respect

The woman lured him away with stories of
How it all began.
It was all too much for Gylfi to question
So he just believed
This is what she said:
One of the gods had a daughter named Night
Who was dark enough to blind all sight
She married an Other and had a child
A daughter they named Earth.
Then she wedded "Shining One"
And had a son named Day.

The mother, Night and brother, Day
Ride chariots through the sky
watching over Beautiful Earth
Protecting where she lie.

This was not enough, still, for our disguised king
He sought to know futher yet
About the Sun and moon

Continuing she answered him how mortal man did bear
Two daughters of the brightest sort, fairest above fair.
This made the gods jealous and placed them in the sky
One was named Sun, brighter still, than the other named moon.
I have far much more to say
but ill save for another day.
Then his questions shift from day to season
Summer is so hot and so he asked to know the reason.

Weary of his questions
She instead attack his ignorance
Explaining that everyone knows all of this.
There are two children, of gods, no doubt
One of them named Summer and the other Winter.
And though they never meet, they definately try.

You might begin to wonder
how it is they never die,
Because they are of gods all
Eternity is in them.
You surely have heard of Elves.

Our king feels the weight of all of his questions
Pressing on his eyelids
So, he deigns to sleep.
He offers this woman thanks
by granting her a ploughland.

Her giant, godly siblings,
fitted her plough with giant oxen.
And dug a chanel though his land
leaving a huge Swedish lake and creating Zealand.

Now, who was deluded, I ask?
The loosers of which task
The king who believed a story and gave thanks
Or the gods for thinking his self was not a prank?

Actually a song I wrote and like

Music is the next natural step when writing poetry, huh?



Though I'm awake,
Let me just stay as I am.
Unmoving, enjoying the sensation of not knowing what to do
and not caring.

I'm sitting here wide awake now
knowing exactly what to say,but it doesn't feel as real.
Why didn't I just turn around and kiss you?
That doesn't even matter now anyway
I'm awake

Still awake,
thinking clearly now, and I choose you
it really doesn't matter if I'm dreaming or if
I'm awake.