New Ass fault
Asphalt Is a foundation
not in relation
to a woman in any manner
Men have to garner
Fear is never a fault
this belongs to a relative
called San Andreas
Men are all connected
Power struggle comes
Mostly from ignorance
superiority of species
fault triggers not understood
It’s within his hood
cultivated by bravado
Destroyed by the macho
In the end who’s at fault
It’s never the Gault
disappearing is weak
when freedom you seek
A star is born
A star is born when a soul leaves this earth
setting their brilliance in the expanse
Believe in the one who created the earth
Inhabitants await from birth
To set their mark
Our steps lead us either to darkness
or continue to be a bright light in the darkness
A star is born when a soul leaves this earth
showing their soul was of the light
Impacting the darkness
That raised havoc
when they walked this earth
Look to the heavens all ye who are created
rejoice in knowing what lies ahead
A star is born when a soul leaves this earth
Flashback
Each day was an adventure
petticoats filling and obscuring
twirl and swoop with a hoop
laced up dresses, button shoes
lace, cotton, silk of a lady
Men tipped a hat
kissing a hand
saying howdy mam
Doors opened, you first dear
men walked to the left
protecting women from projectiles
From horse to buggy
soon automobile
Gentler times
don’t seem real
Gone with the wind
Scrub on hands and knees
dishes washed by hand
always wear a wedding band
Loss at an early age
Baby bunting didn’t save
Less interference from the capital
turn the other cheek
They believed still
Old fashion values at its core
yet man and woman wanted more
Looking for more convenience
trading each idea one step at a time
fast forward to the present day
Have values faded away?
Can we mix the old with the new?
Or is it no longer our purview?
Each dialogue seems more off putting
Polar opposite is part of the footing
Sifting sand slides us under
How have we put all good asunder?
Melancholy thoughts of the good ol days
Will always be our romantic phrase
Progress takes and gives I fear
Anger management we need to adhere
No mutual respect is in effect
Politically correct is what they collect
Each issue being part and parcel
leaving citizens with barely a morsel
Fear and resentment is now the norm
Neighborhood watches need to be formed
Within the mix, there seems to be a fix
either side cannot confide
What is the answer that should form?
holding those in power to a higher standard
Raising our children in a genteel manner
Love thy neighbor is not a religious cause
It should be renewed with applause
Trust, integrity become a cornerstone
No longer shrug the atlas deceit
Promises always shall we keep
A man’s word is his name
This we should never feign
Let’s bring back the good ol days
Hot summers Day
Moist skin glistens in the heat
I pop an ice cube in my mouth
hoping for refreshment
beneath my breasts sweat forms
Running my hands underneath
re-leaving the discomfort
only briefly
Children’s laughter can be heard
Splashing taunts of Marco Polo
Chilled sweet tea
Only tantalizes my taste buds
Dreamy thoughts drift through
my mind swirls with thoughts of sex
Bodies adhere to each other
Mingling their sweat
Skinny dipping would be a pleasure
Missing in this dream is a lover
Stepping out of the shade
awareness of someone peering
Smile etched upon his face
I return the invitation
Being neighborly is not over rated
In the crevices
Delving into tho the crevices of the deep.
Creatures emerge which seem colorfully exotic.
Yet in the deep waters, you believe you are safe.
The predators lurk beyond the bright coral.
Believing their darkness is beyond your receptor.
The pitch in your heart emits and determines your need.
You relate only to this need.
No other can exceed ultimate goal of destruction
Prayers and Lamentations stands
Where shall I go from here? Is my choice
yet I hear the carol of voice
Which cries out for me to gain wisdom
Challenging the darkness of my choices
Dragging me back to the peaceful thinking
Even if it means me kicking and screaming
The prayers of love are a chain
Either to drag me back or I chose to feign.
Thus the dance starts again.
When I first meet someone I like to look in their eyes. I try to engage them in a conversation with the express purpose to make them laugh. A laugh speaks volumes as to how free their heart is. First time I met Stan his eyes were pleasant his laugh was easy and quick.
Stan emitted confidence and strength. His male pitch was deep and sexy. My female receptors were zeroed in on the target. Within a week we had set up a date and time to meet for dinner. I was not ready to tell him where I live.
I came just on time dressed in a white cotton easy flowing sundress. Strappy sandals and a small sling purse. He looked elegant in his beige cotton twill slacks, short sleeve cream knit shirt. My eye focused on his belt buckle. I quickly diverted my eyes, looking directly at him and smiled. His eyes told me he noticed my interest. His grin told me he had the same thoughts.
We were seated at our table. We both ordered the salmon special. While we waited we sipped on wine and talked about our day. The conversation slowly became personal. Who we dated before. Who did the breaking up? Stan leaned in and whispered in my ear “Would you consider having desert across the street” I nodded and smiled. As our entrees were placed before us I looked through the window across the street at the Sheridan. I had never been there before and always wondered if it is as swanky as people had said.
We ate slowly sharing bits and pieces of our past. Slowly it started to dawn on me I was the one giving information. Stan, on the other hand, was being very cautious and generic. A chill ran up my spine. My attraction to him turned cold. He must have noticed. He reached across the table and took my hand. He asked if something was the matter. I lied and told him my stomach was upset and I needed to go to the ladies room. I walked unsteadily towards the front of the restaurant to the ladies room. When I reached the door of the ladies room I glanced over my shoulder Stan was looking in a different direction. I quickly left the restaurant. Ran to my car and went straight home.
As I told all this to the police officer he took notes nodding once in awhile. After I had finished my dissertation he flipped his notepad closed with a quick snap. He said “You were smart not to go with him. I would suggest since he does not know where you live, stay home a few days from work until we catch him.”
I would never have believed Stan would be capable of such brutality. He ended up with our waitress after I left. She had felt sorry for him. They ended up at the Sheridan. The cleaning crew found her body, in the shower cut up in pieces, like someone does to a chicken.
I am glad I listened to my gut when things went south.
I have done dark
Not dangerous yet at the fringe
grasping at reality nonexistent
wanting peace and love
Choices I make, make me
roller-coaster ride is what I need
The high of conflict is desirable
My relativity is half full
Needing the bad
Hoping for the good
I am not the person
In the hood
Conflict much to my chagrin
parents grieve my loss
opposite of boring
those who love are in mourning
What then is the end?
Needle in the hay stack
Is their and my worse fear
It is near
No outreach can come near
Politicians grin near
disingenuous is the plague
as my yearning is vague
The indigenous pot
has no handle to be grasped
Answer is in the air
swiftly shifting with those who care
What is the answer I dare?
Please wisdom do share.
Love me despite if you care.
Yet enablers beware.
My last tear
There are times in your life which define the rest of your life, if you let it. My husband was in the military. He was sent to Russia for a reason he could not discuss. In one of his letters, he described a street: “The street is a throwback to the old days. When you would want to mail a letter you would put it in an envelope take it to a letter box to send it off. As you walk along aroma of cabbage drifts through the streets as a plastic bag floats by and sticks to the curb. In the summer the tar heats and it’s odor mixes with the cabbage.” I cry when I read these letters for the 100th time wishing they had sent him to the United Kingdom instead. He would have been safer describing the aroma of Kipper instead of tar and Cabbage.
Josh was there a short time before a thief took his life. Sergei his name was, thought Josh had American dollars which was worth much more than the Ruble.
I sit here reading these letters and looking through old photos. The old saying “A picture speaks a thousand words” many times is very true. I have in my hand a photograph of my parents. The title is ‘Our Escape‘ There was an oar lying next to the picnic table they were sitting at. The table had a red gingham checked table cloth. What looked like fried chicken, potato salad, and a bottle of wine. A sign to the right of them said ‘no alcoholic beverages passed this point’ I laughed when I saw the sign. I never took my parents to be rebels. On the ground near my mom’s ankle was a grasshopper. This too made me laugh knowing how mom hated any kind of bugs. If she knew it was there she would not be smiling, she would be standing next to the fried chicken on the picnic table.
When I need a remedy for my doldrums, I pull out the family album and it never fails to cheer me up. Josh and I were only married 2 years. I wish I had more photos of him. I am not so sure looking at photos would keep me from my grief I still feel.
Walking through the door
Open in mind and spirit
Ready to experience life
On the other side of this door
Perplexity is maneuvered
Not always manageable
Thoughts are diverse
ideals immersed, wants not needs
Anger springs from declaration
Rightful disbursements
A drummer of a different song
Its melody is violently harsh
Doctrines myth imposed
Advancing assault one nation at a time
Righteous indignation bellowing it’s cause
Woes wailing out bigotry notions
Choosing proselytes with anger issues
Infectious mantra stirs anger
Carrying out savage rights of passage
Stop this epidemic
Vetting each person entering the door.
How does a person decide to purposefully hurt someone else? We live in a world that gives us instant gratification. Drive through windows which offer delectable salty foods. As we sit in our vehicles we are annoyed because it is still taking too long.
Quite possibly the person in the truck behind you has decided on the egg McMuffin and coffee. He has also decided to use his truck as an instrument of destruction.
We are told to be tolerant. Yet you cannot teach nor tell someone how to love. Good neighbors respect boundaries, appreciating privacy. Too often respect is a distant memory. Privacy has been annihilated, replaced with search and seizure with no boundaries.
A group of people who stand on the principle of peace and love takes to the streets disrespecting humanity. Blowing up all possibility of love thy neighbor.
Gruesome as this is, there is still another group who protests against racism, they have become what they protest.
Let us not lose sight of the group who try to evangelize the world. Their crusade is historical. Within this group, there is a faction which will step over the line of propriety at a funeral of a fallen hero spewing out their hate.
When did we become so self-important? Did it start with the trophies which honor participation? Are you special because your anger destroys and disrespects life?
This abomination is on our doorsteps. Politicians play their instrument of corruption creating the problem, at the same time bellowing they are the solution.
Vigilance is needed to thwart this cancer within our society. Call out the liars, speak the truth in love. Let’s take our country back.
poems and short stories 