Once upon a time there was a really cute bisexual girl who decided that she should share her poetry with the world so she got a web page and here it is for all to read, criticize, admire, be corrupted by...whatever...enjoy the poetry and please check out the rest of my homepage.
OR try this...GET CREATIVE...get some inspiration by using this Poetry Maker
Now and forever (kind of like "Cats" but better)...a work in progress...and speaking of...I have added more as of December 2004...including a poem I found from 1997 (I think)...ENJOY!
Why do I lose all words
When I look into your eyes
Why can’t I describe
These feelings deep inside
The kind that make me shake
And make me weak in the knees
The way my heart flutters
Because you are all it sees.
And time goes so slow
When I’m on my way to you
You are all I want to know
The reason my skies are blue
But time flies so quickly
When I’m in your arms
I’d do anything to make it slow
Stay warm within your charms
I need to be near you
Every single night and day
To hear you whisper my name
Meet eye to eye…to stay
I long to taste your lips
So soft and warm and sweet
How will I ever survive
‘Til the next time we meet
I wish you knew how much
Your love means to me
How my life just isn’t right
When it’s just me instead of we
Little man all in black, young and living with a bad comb over, sitting in a coffee shop in the middle of a small yet fierce city...sanctuary...armed only with his paper, ink, artistic malaise, scowl, and a superior airs. Are you contemplating your incubating Nobel winning novel, your importance in society, or just how insignificant you really are as cars and people hurry out of your narrow vision. What are the perfect words to scribble in your dollar store notebook with ink from your silver fountain pen?
Three untouchables in ghetto fabulous street gear bounce through...territory...armed with only the spare change in their designer jeans. Their attitudes and voices begin escalating—a splendid show for all to ignore.
I see you slink into your chair and cringe. Is it too much for you to handle little man in black? You flee from the noise, the slang of the inner city. Do you fear their words, the breaking of the chain of your pompous overly drawn out thoughts? Do you fear these three mirrors, members of your society, the skewing of your vision, or the life they savor?
Gothic Jesus
My messiah of darkness and light
A dicotomy in leather
A mix of all that’s right
Gothic Jesus
A star in his sick little mind
Confusing and astounding he is
The strings of your heart will unwind
A necessary evil
A saint in disguise
Don’t look directly at him
If you care about your eyes
He’ll love you one day
And love another tomorrow
But Gothic Jesus can’t be owned
He’s only yours to borrow
Gothic Jesus
He’s here and then he’s lost
He’ll take your heart forever
And at a hefty cost
What happens to the songs?
The ones that are dedicated and delegated
With crisp memories and intense feelings
Wrapped up in their melodies and phrases.
Their poetic words meant so much to us.
They illustrated our stories.
They were our soundtracks.
How can I hear those words now—
Those tunes that slice up my wrists!
I had to bury you under piles of nonsense.
Shall I find a nice plot for them too?
What happens to the songs I loved?
You don’t deserve a connection to these beauties.
You’re NOT My Best Friend.
You can’t be the Magic Man.
You’re not the Sunshine On My Shoulder.
You don’t Light Up My Life.
You’ll never be Here, There, and Everywhere.
What will happen to the songs?
Must I bury them along with you?
Eulogize and mourn their short lives?
I can’t find the power to pull the plug.
I’m listening, looking, hoping for a replacement—
Someone deserving the honor of dedication.
Thoughts of you run up and down my spine,
Sending chills through every part of me.
I lick my lips and their corners turn.
A glow emanates brighter than the sun.
Imagine what could happen if these lips caressed yours.
What sensuous passion might occur.
What makes me want to be like you?
When being you is so hard to do!
Riding around in a stretch Towncar
Going to theatres, parties, and bars
Keeping yourself so young and pretty
Everyone knows your name in this city
No laundry, irons, or dinner dishes
An entire staff there to fulfill your wishes
And if you feel like having children
Hire someone else to rear them
Did you ever work from nine to five?
With all your apathy, are you alive?
You forget that you are even useful
Because your desserts come in silver spoonfuls.
I’d rather work all night and day
And earn an honest, hard-earned pay.
To break a sweat and feel some pride
To see some progress and grow inside
And take responsibility for my kids
And see them learn from how I live
I NEVER want to be like you
And never realize just what I can do.
Never stop the flow of expression.
Inspiration is something that is shared.
Continue on your righteous path--
Only you have the power to enlighten.
Sullen depths of confusion and loss,
Undermine all positive plans.
Alter your perception of your world,
Vilify the ones who harm and stifle.
Every word will work to set you free.
Oh mystical wizard
Atop of laughing flames
Suck my earth
Into a perfect sky
Oh beautiful man
Ageless man
Take me on a ride
To nowhere
Everywhere
Alpha and Omega
As I slowly seep
Into polyester shag
Stucco rippling above
With only your beams to keep me up
Higher, higher
Lift me higher
Shimering, glimering
Higher and higher
I have nearly reached the top
Swirling and whirling
Higher and higher
Leave no remnants of soil
Lift me higher
With your magic morsel
Just one more bite
To non-existence
Higher and higher
Full spectrum a blur
Higher and higher
Never to touch the ground
Oh ageless wizard
Tour guide to my flight
Lift me higher
Never let me fall
Realizing it's you
Under my sheets at night
Stealing my empty evenings
Sharing the everydays in between
Everliving affection in my thoughts
Leaving me longing for you
Leaving me longing for more
Realizing the void you create
In between the shortest of meetings
Creating a lifetime of yesterdays
Here you lie in fuzzy memories
A truly beautiful aura & vision
Real, true, & unblemished
Dear friend, I need more
More than a thought
Or the ghost of an embrace
Realizing it's you
Sharing my everydays
Even in your absence
My love,
I went to visit the tree some weeks ago. The one that holds
our story in its paper bark. Each thin suede-like piece I peeled
is like an instant flashback.
Remember how we used to climb its frail branches? I was 6
and you at the ripe old age of 8, helped me up when I fell,
pulled the spinters from my fingers, and wiped my tears away with
your shirt sleeve. You were my hero. I loved you.
I taught you backflips from its limbs when I was 8 and you
humored me, never telling me you already knew how to. But I
humored you too. I knew what you were doing for me. I didn't
tell you because I loved you.
Then that day, when the leaves were crimson and gold, we met
after school at our special place. You handed me one of those
white cottony flowers with its delicate winged seed tops. You
told me to make a wish and you made it come true. You kissed me
so sweetly on the lips that I shivered with excitement. I was ten
and had my very first kiss. I loved you even more.
Then the winter came and it lasted 6 years. It had frozen
my dreams of you and me and our tree. Your path had taken you
away from our magic place. I cried every day. My heart had
fallen into a pile of dead leaves and was lost under an icy white
drift. I missed you. I loved you. I picked up one of those
wishing flowers and asked for a change of season and again my
wish came true.
The spring did come after that forever freeze. I found you
sitting there, pouring your feelings into a tattered old journal.
The tree was full and green. It casted shadows over the sorrow
in your eyes. I held my hand out to you and taught you
compassion. And in the squeeze of your grasp, you were back.
We climbed our knotty old tree and swung from its branches,
our laughter filling the air. I was 10 again. Out of breath you
kissed me and it conjoined present and past. We made our silent
vows that day--that night--and everyday following. I loved you
then and I love you now. As long as those roots stay strong, so
will the story and the reality of our life together.
With eternal love,
me
You sit there smiling at me with transparent glances. You tell me you care, with that eternal grin. You are glass. Your fragility lies in the strength of your falsehoods. Don't try to mislead me, I read your motions. I know where your truth lies.
I look at your rounded face and into your hazel eyes. You think you see through me, but you have only reached the surface. But I see through your glassy eyes, so false that they are weak. I can shatter them and the promises they hold. Promises born in your lies and poetry.
Today is the day my heart stops as Into a cold clam shell i slither to Meet my fate, face to face--Every white wall closing in with Signs of what's to come hanging--Unsaid fears of the word--Positive
Velvet skies of blue green
Are false signals of affection
Nights of starry skies and roaring streams
Cover up your lies of emotion
Every touch eats through me
Velvet fingers to trick the senses
And I fall
Never to know the reality
Never to know the truth
Will you make me a collectors item Gather me like the others Take their hearts and their innocent smiles Try You cannot capture me with your jaunty eyes only to be put on a shelf Would you take me down so you can play or toss me aside with your old G.I. Joes Will you cover me in a bell jar like a gourmet meal or discard me like old hamburger wrappers I will not be fooled--not again I will be your playmate not your plaything like the nieve girls who stand twisted, posed, rigged atop your highest pedistals FREE YOURSELVES...my virginal sisters Close off your fortress He is a dragon in knight's armor He will caress you as cold metal slips between your shoulder blades You will never be his bride, you will wear his bridle take off the blinders or suffer the meltdown as he creates his glass menagerie
Have you ever wondered why there's a "one" in
lonely or why the Lone Ranger had a sidekick?--
life just doesn't make sense--
Why can people sit in a room full of people--
even friends--and be an island?--And what is with
that?--some man, in some time said "no man is an
island" meaning no man is completely separate
and alone--but I think that the use of island
is a false analogy--islands are full of people
--did he mean deserted island?--but even
deserted islands have life--is man so
self-centered that we assume that to be alone
is to be without other human beings?--we
completely overlook animals, plants, even
spirits--why are intangible things ignored?--
why is man so skeptical and egocentric?--Yes,
I do agree that no man is completely alone--
sometimes you just have to look past the
mirrors to find company.
man, man, man
chain me, beat me, hurt me
man, man, man
love me, fuck me, lie to me
man, man, man, man, man
with forked tongue, spout poems and romance
laughter, screams, tears
rip through me with your spiked rod
tear, rip, scar
penetrate and rape me, your whore
make a meal of my gray matter
savor the flavor of domination
man, man, stupid man
swallow my pubic hair
choke on my cum
rot in your misery
stupid man
Gather me like the others 
Send comments or poems to me and maybe they'll end up on my
page.
