| i've got this thing for the eighties
i've got this thing for wanting to turn back time |
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| man...i dont like this one very much. hmm...calvin kelin and sugar wine
*gasp* sugar wine- an intoxicatingly sweet drink produced by the human mind. so basically...its all about the moment? and what your mind is thinking?
your water could become your sugar wine? your next kiss could taste like sugar wine?
the next cup of tea? sugar wine. i'm going to like sugar wine. keep me here
in this state of mind
where i find
no time
to be running out
let me sleep
and with a dream
let me seem
to stream
through the nightmares
dont let me go
please not there
and not where
i scare
away potential kindness
let me stay here
where i breathe
and can heave
or wreathe
my time
where i can scare
or tear
and bear
my nightmares
so i wont flee
and not be
well...thee
and your unkindess
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| there's a youth writer's award
the bennington something...
if i can..i think i'll enter three of my poems
i dont know what it is
i never wanted to complete my pieces until now |
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| i saw a dog get hit by a car last monday
i had met the black mutt just seconds before its accident
he was chasing a car. he didnt know any better
but that green truck didnt care. he didnt want to stop.
he was late for work. he was late for school. he was in a hurry.
such a hurry that the black dog went under his tires in a manner of seconds
i froze at the gas station, with my hand clasped over my mouth.
its leg was broken. im sure many bones were broken
and it ran over the hill
i told myself i should have run over the hill and try to find it
and i envisioned myself being hit by a car
i told myself i should have driven down the street near the hill
and knock on doors to find its owners
and i envisioned them not even caring
i told myself i should have called someone...a shelter...a number
something
and i envisioned the person on the other line laughing at me i should have done something
people tell me that i couldn't have done anything
but you know...i was in a such a hurry
i hope he's okay.. |
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| the day after is the hardest
like a morning after pill
the same chills
no thrills
just plunge through you
and the nights are the worst
like a night spent alone
the same despair
its not fair
that is all has to hurt so at least i had the sun.
had it of rained the day for everyone
could have been much worse please let autumn come
i need my leaves to fall
so i can lie in the piles they make
and pretend to slumber |
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