the most important
meal of the day,
or so i’ve heard,
is the one you’ll
eat upon waking.
who am i to disagree
with waffles and eggs,
pancakes with berries,
and mounds of crisp,
crunchy bacon?
but my favorite spot
has limited seating
and this morning an
incredible queue, i am
already weary of waiting.
Think
then do.
Be sure to
mind your
p’s and q’s
Discard any
faith
in yourself,
and
Make sure
all your
needs
are properly
shelved.
What is gained
from
this control?
Surely not
peace within
your soul.
looking
hot
for a
woman
like me
who
is not
takes an
exhausting
amount of
energy.
i think
now
might be
a good
time
for a
nap.
zzzzzzzzzzzz
Peace, people!
i’ve been accused now
by the abrupt
no kiss good night
the ensuing silence may be
construed as rest
or as fomentation.
too still, no easy patterns
of inhalations, no
gentle exhalations.
the clock measures time in
unslept minutes
awaiting judgement.
when the eruption occurs
i can think only of
future accountability.
i seem to have gotten it,
every bit of it,
wrong yet again.
no easy answers and now
i feel damned
either way.
we really are much too
old to live like this,
i sigh.
the sigh sets him off
anew, fuel to his
unspent fire.
sleep finally intrudes;
we can only say
so much.
Peace, people.
Wearing toe shoes because
they make her feel graceful,
even though she cannot stand,
let alone walk or dance in them.
Pretending she has appointments,
important happenings in her
date book, when in reality her
days are void of any excitement.
Scribbling furiously in her
notebook, intent on making sense
of the empty days and lackluster
nights, praying for intervention.
Where is the muse who heads the
department of sensible thought?
She’s the one in comfortable shoes,
keeping time with the pendulum.
Peace, people!
we’re told
everything happens
for a reason.
i’m not sure
i agree.
we’re told
we’ll never be
given more than
we can handle.
that’s a lie.
we’re told
that what doesn’t
kill us only
makes us stronger.
i beg to differ.
experience tells us
that sometimes crappy
things happen for
no apparent reason.
experience tells us
that sometimes what
we’re given would
make Jesus weep.
experience tells us
that sometimes what
doesn’t kill us leaves
us wounded beyond repair.
so if the platitudes
seem too saccharine
to swallow,
rejoice! there’s
always tomorrow,
or so we’re told.
peace, people!
I’ve tried being
philosophical,
but it isn’t my style, and
Practicality
is practically
unobtainable.
I think I’ll be
winsome instead.
Winsome seems a
logical choice,
neither happy nor
morose, yet somewhere
in between as in,
you WIN SOME,
you lose some.
Perhaps I have
a bit more
wondering to do
before I find my niche.
I’ll just be
winsome until
something better
comes along.
Peace, people!
Is it
“Feed a cold;
Starve a fever?”
Or vice versa
I never can
Seem to
Remember.
Hunger, though
Is my companion
Urging me to
Ignore the wisdom
Age old sayings
Passed down
from mom
To mom.
Just feed me
Seymour and
No harm is done.
peace, people!
i am sick
not tragically,
or terminally,
but sick,
nonetheless;
therefore,
this poem
was all I could
manage.
peace, people.
The human heart,
with its four chambers
looks nothing like a
valentine heart.
Yet, I love you
with my whole heart:
Both atria, two ventricles,
and every valve, too.
Now if that
isn’t romantic,
then I don’t
know what is.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 