The Noncommittally Defined Page

Welcome to the section of the collection that defies any sort of grouping. I think that everyone has some of these. There are so many labels for things. I'm glad that it is in me to have a few. Enjoy and if you get the chance let me know what you think. =) 





Table Of Contents

    

  1. Bang On The Cannon
    2. 

  2. The Educated Poor
    3. 

  3. Whatever Happened
    4. 

  4. What He Says
    5. 

  5. Upon My Return

  6. Kyle's Blue Shirt
  7. Procrastination

  8. Androgynous woman

  9. Homeless Mom
  10. The Warm Night and the Pretty Girl


 
      
   
























 
  Kyle's Blue Shirt
  		 
 

You and I
Are sitting in the
Living room of
My apartment

Without thinking
I tell you
That for weeks
I've wondered what
You look like without
Your shirt

Your cheeks flush red
As you smile

Removing your glasses
Putting your fingers
Through your soft
Brown hair
And you tell me
To feel free
To take a look

Now I am blushing

And I am walking over to you
A few feet
Suddenly...
Feel like a mile

All the fantastic
Visions
I've had of your chest
Come flooding to
My mind

As I touch your designer
Blue shirt that
You are still wearing
From going to work today
Slowly, I glance
At your face

Then these buttons
You are watching me
Intently
Your rosy lips
Turn to a sly grin

Wondering if I will
Walk through the door
That you have ever so
Willingly opened for me

I feel the heat
Being generated from
Your skin

I undo a few buttons
When I stop, I catch you
Biting your bottom lip
And you smile
Your eyes
Begging me to go on

When I'm through
I am happily amazed
That you are so well built
That there are
No hairs to be found

Do you like what you see?
You ask
Yes I proclaim
He smiles and says that
He is glad

While mindlessly touching
His chest
Thinking so smooth, so sleek
Wondering if all of him is
This way
He as if on cue
Says: "Have you ever been
curious to see more?"

Copyright © 2000 Cloudwalkers Inc.

 

 









 
 
 
 
 
 
What He Says

A man tells 
me
That a woman
Is never truly
A woman
Until a man
Graces her bed
But I say
That a woman
Is always so
Unless she
Falls 
From her convictions

(c) 1999 Cloudwalkers Inc.
 






 
 
 
 
 
 
Whatever happened

Whatever happened
To that loving
   touch
Whatever happened
  to your long embrace
Whatever happened
to the days
when you and I
were as close
as lyrics and notes
When staying up last
on the phone
at the movies
hanging out
Were commonplace

Somehow, you've 
Become 
This stranger
So
  your words
  your presence
  You
Have all vanished
  into diminuendo
Leaving this gulf
between us
As deep and wide
As an ocean
Whatever happened?



 
 
 











The Educated Poor 

We are the proud              Meeting deadlines
The Thousands                 Living on campus or off
The educated poor               With loud and crazy 
We spend years                People
In academia                   Sometimes enduring
Hoping to learn               Roommates from the
To know more                  Very depths of
To earn more                  Hades itself
To have better lives          Awkwardly questioning
Sacrificing                   Everything
Ourselves                     From ourselves, the world
With jobs that                To why on earth we're here.
  pay too little              But never abandoning  
Dining hall food
That we tire of               Even though everyone says
Buracracey...red tape         That we don't live 
Professors who                In the "real world." 
  Think                       And have learned little.
That they are 
  Center
Of all
Losing sleep to do work
Finish papers
And projects



      




 

Bang On the Cannon

 

 
Don't read the boys
They'll brainwash you
Every little girl
Subjected to the belief
That women don't write
Men are the writers
Except for romance
That is our department
Little girls don't 
Believe them
When they call you
    inherently evil
Yet pure, beyond reproach


Break Out!!
Show him your tongue
Your innuendo
Your metaphors.
 
Bang on the cannon
In a snot nosed 
  literary fashion
Demand to be let in
Even a good writer
Like you can be
  let in
Wearing a dress
Not manly and hiding
Like George Sands and others

If you want to
Forget me...read the boys


But never forget
The girls are worth 
    The read
No matter...what they say.
©Cloudwalkers 1998 
              


















Upon My Return


When I am sitting in
a classroom again
I will be grateful for
Everyday
And I will sing
like a bird
With a mended wing
And I will thank 
The God and The Goddess
For their many blessings
and for the gift of talent
of voice
I will dance and roll
in a field of lilacs
giggling in dizzy delight
For the chains which
held me to a place
Will have been broken
And I will be free

copyright © 2000

 

 

 

 

 

Procrastination



My thief
My mistress
of time
How awful
Is your hold
on me
Stealing my
Sparse moments
Of conviction
    
©Cloudwalkers 2000

 

 

 

 

 

Androgynous woman 
Androgynous woman
With the soft pretty face
Sleeping so sound
In uncaring bliss
How I long
For a kiss
For a touch
This I think of
When I'm watching 
You
Laying beside you
In the silence of
the early morn
Keeping it all
To myself
When there's no
Other choice
To be made

© 2001 Cloudwalkers

 

 

 

 

 

 

Homeless Mom

I see a woman
On the street
The sign says:
"Homeless Mom"
And there is this
Smile
On her face
If she's a real
"Homeless Mom"
What is there
To smile about?
I think of
Hungry children
With dirty faces
All of them in the
Shelter
Or on the street
Hungry
With no money
And her helpless
To fix it
Because she lacks
Education
Or resources
So she's standing
At the traffic light
What is there to smile about?

©2001 Cloudwalkers

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Warm Night And the Pretty Girl

It was a warm
Summer Saturday night
When you walked
Into my door
Into my life
And I knew before
The night's end
That I wanted your
Kiss
That I wanted your
Touch
You were only
Of the prettiest girls
That every
Smiled just for me
We went for a long
Walk in the park
And I wanted…
To hold your hand
I wanted to know you
I saw your
Soft pretty brown hair
Bounce in the breeze
And I wanted to
Touch it
I anted to envelop
To devour
You
To kiss your pretty
Pink lips
To reach
A calm…a peace
With you

©2001 Cloudwalkers

 

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