Sarah Flanigan - Poetry Simply Put

When my life hurts
I imagine my other life
on the road not taken.

But, my mind wants to know
if is it the road not taken
that determines my life
Or me?

Would I be a different me
if I chose a different road?
Would the me of me
change with the seasons
the colors or the geograhy
Just because?

Or is it a trick
I play on myself
to explain away
my choices
good and bad
right and wrong
smart and stupid?

Even in my imaginings
I seem not able
to remove me from me
Untaken road or not.
No matter where I travel
in cars, on foot, in my imagination
the me of me is always there.

copyright 2007

Stinking, humid heat
Drought-ridden summer parches
Damned Aussie seasons!

copyright 2007

(how’s that, luv?)

Like a cat
I nap in the sun.
And put aside
my problems
for opening on another day.
Spring is here
and I
celebrate.

copyright 2007

Let us make a deal
No one sees our subterfuge
The record is sealed.

 copyright 2007

(here you go, michael. as requested. sarah)

beach dogs catch the rays
that sparkle across water
deep green and perfect

copyright 2007

Winter roses sag
Clip, trim, dead leaves fall to ground
Roses safe in vase

copyright 2006

“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own instead of someone else’s.”

– Billy Wilder

Billy Wilder, the Austrian-American film director who gave us classic films like the farcical Some Like It Hot and the sardonic Sunset Boulevard,  as well as The Lost Weekend, The Apartment, Double Indemnity, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution and many more.

 His, was a true rags-to-riches success story. Born in 1906 in the Austria-Hungarian empire, he fled the Nazi regime in 1934, arriving in Los Angeles with $11 and speaking almost no English. By the 1950’s, he had become one of Hollywood’s greatest directors, directing more than 60 films. He won six Oscars and the National Medal of Honor. He died in 2002.

If you have never had the pleasure of watching any of his many movies, do yourself a favor and rent a few of them. This man was a true writer and knew his craft. Watch his movies, read the scripts and study them - he has much to teach us.

Sarah 

Pennies gathered in a jar
all the same

None have a different idea
of who or what they are

Lonely pennies
waiting to be rolled
not knowing

For they were never told
they’re not worth much of anything
these days.

copyright 2006

I don’t really have anything to say
My clever words won’t come out to play today
My heart and soul can’t find its way
to entertain you.

My head won’t think
my eyes don’t blink
I’m not in the pink
sorry…nothing to see here.

copyright 2006

I gave my love
a Christmas tree
and trimmed it up
real nice.

In hopes that
he would see
that I deserved
the ice.

I strung it full
with tiny lights
and ornaments
of gold.

So he would really
set his sights
on something
rather bold.

Beneath the tree
I stacked the gifts
to make his eyes
go wide.

To raise his heart
to the cliffs
so his joy
could not hide.

He held me close
and kissed my cheek
and grinned
so very big.

But when I looked
and took a peek
I saw that he
was just a pig!

No engagement ring
did I find
beneath my
glorious tree

But rather just
some non-stick pots
which I threw at he….

Who broke my heart
and made me sad
on this Christmas day -
by giving me a gift
so bad
that I will make
him pay!
Merry Christmas! Sarah