Sunday, August 29, 2010

My Students

She greeted me on Monday, sans homework, but with an explanation: Her mother was killed on Saturday, could she turn it in tomorrow? Would that be okay?

On Tuesday morning he told me he wasn’t afraid of anything
That nothing scared him, hurt him, or could make him cry
He came and told me Wednesday, he discovered that fear was a gun held to his head. That he now knew; he was afraid of dead.

Her chair was empty Thursday, I didn’t know why until late
(Thank God she didn’t wait)
When her momma’s boyfriend blasted through the door, and momma fell (dead) to the floor,
she jumped out the window, baby sister in tow, and ran to safety of a neighbor she didn’t know.

Friday. Nothing bad ever happens on a Friday – I just pray they make it two days, and return on Monday, to the safety of my classroom.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Kill Bill, Volume 3
When I find Bill, I’m gonna kill him.
You think I jest or a jester be?
Ha – Watch me –
I’ll make Uma Thurman look like PeeWee Herman
-all gawky and amateurish.
I’ll have him
--make him crawl,
Have him
-- back pinned to the wall
“Look what you’ve created, what you’ve done
Left me mooning for that fucking sun in the east "
Not minding your dagger’s prick in the least.

When I find Bill, I’m gonna kill him.
Damn man – and his teasing words, and tantilizing hands
I may have that reversed
Curs-ed man could argue with one, and hold close with the other
I may have that reversed
But you might wanna call a hearse
When I find Bill, I’m gonna kill him.

He had me falling for Cupid’s arrows and traps,
Laboring over love’s labor lost
Paying the cost
and time
and time again
Thinking, maybe, just maybe this time it would be
Maybe this time
– it would be me
To sing Hey Nonny, nonny hey
But it was never my day
You might wanna tell him
Warn him, and his next of kin
When I find him, I’m gonna kill him.
-and not shed a tear –-
-gonna kill Bill.
Bill Shakespeare.

Monday, February 08, 2010

Sunday, January 31, 2010

I Fell In Love With His Lips

So -- this one has been banging around the brain, and I've not been able to help it out. Words and actions -- contradicting.....I'm still looking at it -- and it may change, but I thought I'd share it:

His lips said, “You have a beautiful voice”
While his eyes scolded, “You laugh too loudly.”
Lips exclaimed, “I felt joy when we met”
hands screamed, “I can’t stand you near me.”
Lips purred, “You have the most amazing eyes,”
But ears burned, “Why must you be so intense?”
Lips praised, “I was so happy you said yes”
Legs stumbled, “Tho’ I’m more comfortable on the fence”
Lips whispered, “Your embrace is my haven,”
Arms pushed, “But your love is contrived.”
Lips begged, “I was afraid I’d scare you off,”
As feet faltered, “That’s why I didn’t arrive.”
Lips pursed, “You won’t be alone long”
Hips cursed, “You’ll always live in fear
His lips promised, “I am better with you,”
While his body cried, “I’m not me when you’re near.”

Saturday, January 23, 2010

A Clean Shot

I've become a Facebook Whore. Or Addict. You choose. It is wildly entertaining, and I get instant gratification -- but my writing has suffered. So, here I am. I am going to try to write something at least a few times a month......

I was challenged by a friend to write a complete story in 101 words. For a wordysmith such as I, this meant edit, edit, edit. But here it is:

I’m not nervous.” If you didn’t see the single drop of sweat on his forehead, you’d believe him. Slowly, he fingered the mechanism with his trigger-finger. “Just do it; get it over with,” he chided. The sweat drop paused at his eyebrow. “It’s your job! One shot, and out.” Resolvedly, he placed his finger back on the cold metal, and pushed. The sound ricocheted in the small space. The bead of sweat dropped into his eye as space before him filled with her fearful face. Her lips parted, pleading, but he cut her off, “Sorry, M’am, here are your foreclosure papers.”