She is cat like
Dog like
Horse like
Cow like
Born the year to the
What
She could be anybody
Be an anti body
Be anti social
A no body
To the right person
With the right mind
She could be
Everybody
Everything
The world
He is heavy handed
Light handed
Under handed
But for her
He is understanding
He is from the earth
But with high spirits
Seasoned with experience
Grounded as if sprung from the land
To the right person
He is the anchor
He is the pulse to the others
Heart
He is the finishing touch
Together
They are who we all
Search here
For
To grow older is to
Grow less attractive to some
Grow lines in skin
Grow thicker skin
Grow less dependent
To grow older my be
To grow a pair
Be not of a pair
Be alone but not lonely
To age may be
A hated thing
A dreaded thing
And that in mind
To have a mind to hate the change
To hate ones self for changing
To hate not being in demand
Is to hate the reality
As stated by some one,
Is specific
Age is a death sentence
A death to the superficial overtures
A death to casual trifles
Upon sobering up to this fact
It does burn
It does hurt
Like acid on the flesh
On the heart
I bury any possibility of being
The object of desire
Object for inspiration
And I set off in a fresh
Direction
I took a vacation
I packed my backpack, with the essentials, self washing clothing, and I cut my hair the style of the Flapper. I put on my all season jacket that changes colors to match the scenery, and I stuffed some first aide ear plugs in my pocket in case of painful conversations with strangers.
I opened the imitation wood door that exposed the unwelcome mat, and I jumped on it and again off of it, turned around and gathered my bag. I looked ahead and saw fields of green grass and rusty car parts with tiny daisies poking through the debris. I inhaled sunshine, which burned a little but that was OK. It may be acquired taste, as often liquor is...
I am on my way, taking turns as the shadows go, or as the birds singing goes, or as the water flows. I have a lunch packed that replenishes upon eating, and a bottomless coffee cup.
I may see you. You may not see or know me. You may smell me though. I had no room for deodorant.
There was this restaurant I frequented. The food was always good. The service, OUTSTANDING, and the entertainment, always unpredictable and amusing.
Now, when I go, it seems, the place is empty. There is the place at the bar where the regulars sit, and the barmaid always leans forward to bear her aged cleavage for bigger tips. The regulars' conversation invade my space, and I can't hear the voice of my friend, or even hear the entertainment. Louder and louder their voices become, round and round with the same topic.
The bar voice, infamous and loud while bar ears grow deafer and deafer.
After awhile, the food was delivered. And it was cold. Stone cold. The juices coagulated on my chicken filet, an amber jelly that stuck to the inside of my throat. The wine was turned vinegar, the beer without a head, and while dining, a cockroach skittered across the top of my foot.
All this, but I have not given up on my favorite restaurant.
Morgen, wanna go for some cold chicken and flat beer?
I have been a wallflower following these blogs, and I have determined it is very much like the usual family gathering.
There is Jake over there in the black leather recliner texting his girl friend who couldn't join the party because Jake's dad hit on her and now she makes up a silly excuse not to come.
Ther is little brother Jimmy playing Skylanders on the WII and ignoring everyone else.
Then you have big sis and bro with their spouses debating the latest injustices and politics over the second 2 liter bottle of gin.
Mom tries to mediate.
Dad shushes Mom and tells her to finish the meal and get it on the table.
Mom flips Dad off and cusses under her breath while, the younger couples continue arguing, and throwing stuffed olives and drinks at each other's faces.
Jake finds the perfect music video that expresses his feelings, and cranks the volume.
I am standing, un noticed with the video camera, creating next year's, DVD, for gift giving.
To ride on out
To drive on out
Of town
There is always a new
Town
The places have places
The lines have spaces
Double spaced
Double checked
Spell checked
Who the hell?
What the hell?
Time will tell
No need to pack
No tank to fill
Empty bags in hand
No tickets to punch
No punch lines to argue
No love for me here
No need for shallow waters
Muddy waters to wash
My hands
Hands are washed
Be seeing you around
with all the crap in this website, and crap is in the eye of the beholder, one can pass on by without firing the reporter.
if we read only what we agreed with, if our own safety was determined by the masses, and if our voices are silenced by judgment of others, than we really are not free to speak at all.
none of us are safe in that respect because there will be a time when we all will speak what another does not want to hear.
Today I decided I was
Tired of being fat
So I purchased a pair
Of running shoes
Today, I quit looking for
Just any job
And I am focusing on the job
I want
Today, I decided to find another way
To punish myself
So I will hurt my muscles
Not my mind with exercise
Today I realised
My new choices are difficult
So I must always remind myself
Of the pain created by
My past choices
If your truth is
The truth
Than it is a sad day
And feels as if your hand
Is slipping from the glove
With fingers gripped by
Ours
If your truth is true
Than what we could have known better
will be missed
And the fleeting words spread
With your hands
And our hands
Will be archived forever
In memories
On screens
In thoughts
In songs
In laughs
If your truth is true
Than
I wish you lied to us
Sorry for my rudeness yesterday. I am having a difficult time adjusting to being on my own. I live in a place that I never developed strong friendships except for the Sister in law, who I have not spoken to since my marriage failed.
I have been short sighted. Now my 17 year old will be moving out next year, so I will be entirely alone. My youngest prefers living with her dad. He is able to spoil her and give her things I can’t.
I am tired of talking about it, but I am a bit worn down and moody.
Sorry
Who is who and
What is what?
The truth from a cartoon
A lie from a photo
More believed
I think
What if I should meet
And have good conversation
And like a person
And I was blind and
Could not see his face?
What if who I liked didn't
Have a face?
And what if I only responded to
Faceless strangers?
If not in my same space,
How could I believe any
Face?
It was as every other day for her, but it seemed to get more and more difficult to manage the day to day life. Since childhood, Anna would find comfort in those lonely places. Very athletic, but not in the team sports sense, she favored climbing tall tall trees, narrow rocky ledges, or dangerous parts of town after dark.
The neighbor boys called her a hermit, but she did not live alone. She lived with a few dreams here and there and her best friend, rebellion.
Anna was bored in school and hated the structure of school. She studied subjects such as domesticated animals, horses in particular, and couldn't help but see the invisible snaffles, hobbles and restraints the civilized masses exhibited in every day life. She did not ever want to wear anything with buckles, hooks, or straps.
Curiously, Anna collected wrist watches, but never wore one.
Upon graduating high school she became employed. A factory for a few years, banker a few years, a carny for a few years, and finally, a corner prostitute. It all was the same ending to the same day. A mask applied, a clock punched, a person serviced, and the same dull emptiness at the end of the day.
At the end of the day, her need to eat, resulted in the loss of the key.
diamondwillows Blog (114)