Oct 09 2008
Old trees and mountains
wise and timeless
Pick up trucks and road trips
of dusty meanderings
The magic light that
paints the image
Evening rains that sing
me to sleep
Morning sun that lifts
me from dreams
Railroad tracks and roadmaps
treasures that hide in the woods,
waiting
The sky from your eyes
the quiet you give
the breeze that knows
your name
copyright 2008
Oct 06 2008
The missing piece to
the puzzle
The words I needed
to complete the thought
The sunshine that was
just behind the clouds
The photograph I
never framed but always
Kept
The rose petals that
lead to my door
copyright 2008
Sep 22 2008
Words
the enemy
cutting
fresh blood and
new bruises
Shining the
light
darkly
on the mess
that is
Me
Gouging
fairy
tales
and happy
endings
Laughing at
self-deceit
Crying
I catch them
scratching at
mind
begging entry
to
wreak
wicked
schemes
Promising to
behave
and splash
beautiful
images across
pages
In the last
moment
they dash to
their own freakish
nightmare
and drag me
screaming
along with
Them.
copyright 2008
Sep 15 2008
stab, skip, flow,
do your job
suck the words from my
brain
make it work
take the junk piled in the
back of my mind
become something
anything
is it the music? what would you
like? jazz, blues, reggae, metal???
dance little pen of
mine
make me look good
make me look smart
there must be something
utterly profound about orange
metallic nail polish
never mind the beads
of sweat, they smear
the ink so nicely give them the words
(which you are in short supply of my friend) that nice
little flourish.
dance damn you!
Dance!
copyright 2008
Aug 28 2008
Misery
adores
company and
howls at the
Sun
do not
put
down your
Pen
for it will not
stop
the yearning
nor deny the
ache of
Light
that needs its
Passion
copyright 2008
Aug 26 2008
I was, I am
and that
never changed
but I did
I leapt and I spun
but the new shoes
never quite fit
Bare feet are best
A floppy hat
and garden gloves
teach me more
than my recent travels
and books of foreign text
Beer is better than
martinis
no fruit, thank you
A tattered map
leads me home
The ocean is
my compass to peace
No voice
changes
That
copyright 2008
Aug 11 2008
well, i am probably going to regret this, but i decided to do a few podcasts and put them up here. i have new page for them, and oddly enough it is called podcasts. they aren’t the greatest quality (though not for any lack of trying) or readings but we have to start somewhere, don’t we. i hope you enjoy them.
sarah
Aug 09 2008
Where is the man who loves me? she asked
Please, just lie down
next
to me
and help me
to sleep
Curl in
to me
and help me
feel safe
Sing me a
poem
and send me
adrift
Wrap my curls
around
your fingers
to tether me
there
Whisper my
name
so I know
that you’re watching
copyright 2008
Aug 08 2008
I am so tired
weary to the marrow
exhausted to the teeth
You neither make my pain
nor own it
for it belongs to me
alone
exquisite perhaps
but I see no beauty
there
Trapped in the moment
frozen like a dacquiri
meant to refresh?
I think not
waiting for release?
I hope so
My joy is in
my joy
my pain gives it
meaning
that
is
all
copyright 2008
Aug 02 2008
Rage.
Pure
rage.
It kicked
at the back
of my head
like a purple explosion
of venom
and i drank down
another cigarette
and inhaled a tumbler
of coffee
then took a hammer to
my splitting head
But there was
a flower
on my table that is
so beautiful
I wanted to
look at it and
breathe her
in
Except the clothes
of another
have been hung
on me
and they suffocate
anihilate
confiscate
Me
I would rather
be naked
and seen in
all my chubby
embarrassment
and truth.
Copyright 2008
I have long felt that any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has just put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae or banana split.
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