Shay's Word List Poetry
about an 'over the moon' circus clown
knowing me as well as you do
you sense the play is about me ~
my style/s: overplayed, remote, stilted
wacky, jumbled, woebegone ~
you look at me
with pity in your eyes
for the outré writer that I am ~
this would be me.
i went to my doctor, head in a spin
diagnosis: symptoms of sugar within
body full of candy, thoughts in a crush
i hum fizzy jingles, talk in a rush!
i dream of confections in rainbow extremes
marshmallow mountains, soda pop streams
'you're not sick mused he with a skeptical eye
just chasing your dreams, on a sugar fueled high!
I wanted to tell you that the world feels different now, as if the streets have been narrowed by time and memory.
I circled the block twice today, past the cafe where once we argued over an artistic dream that refused to bloom. You said my colors were too bitter, my lines lacked the softness of surrender.
Paris was supposed to change us. Even there we remained tangled like a silk scarf caught in the wind, never quite coming undone. Never connecting the way we meant to.
And yet ~~
I still wanted to tell you.
Always.
Diana was the Goddess of fertility, of the moon, as well as the patron Goddess of wild beasts. Her sacred animal being the deer.
I was a timid young thing
barely brave enough to sign up for
high school Latin
[Mother said I would enjoy it]
[Daddy told me it would help
in English Comp class]
I believed them ~ what in the world was I thinking?
I should have taken Spanish ~ something useful!
Pleased to report after countless hours spent in the library
sitting at our dining room table long after dinner
propped up in bed late at night
it “clicked” in my young girl brain
I embraced the language ~ mythology
fashion ~ history ~ all of it
when invitations went out announcing
the “Annual Roman Banquet"
"Dress as your Favorite Character"
I remembered Diana ~ it had to be her
designed / stitched my costume / sky blue / artfully draped
created a headpiece / foil covered quarter moon
Guess who won 1st Place / Best Dressed
Yep ~ that timid young thing
READY FOR SECOND YEAR LATIN ~~ YES !
Yep, I freely admitted it
no doubt, no shame
nary a hint of regret
midst tears, sniffed and dripping snot
choking on my words
I told the whole gory story.
SILENCE! SILENCE IN MY COURT!!
Your Honor, in my defense
haters gonna hate
devil's in the details
it was 4th of July ...
fireworks done scared them cow babies
clear up, and over that full moon!
Veal Veal sorry Your Honor. Oops! I meant to
say ..
Real sorry Your Honor. Honest to Goodness.
Really!
You know those theaters that serve meals
provide sofas for lounging
well here I sit ~ big mistake
tepid coffee
clumpy cheesecake
what the hell movie am I watching
oh yeah, “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral”
an oldie and a goodie
Wyatt Earp ~ Doc Holliday
neglected characters ~ long forgotten ..
like an actor's smock retrieved from props
smelling faintly of mothballs
.. and roll the credits
Burt Lancaster ~ Kirk Douglas
'twas a beautiful escape
like wildflowers blooming
in the Wild West's dust and dirt
'midst relics of all the lost stories
funny thing ~ soon I forgot all about the
tepid coffee and clumpy cheesecake!
Searching, searching for the elusive Mr. Matthew Fox. PERTINENT FACTS: I was a fan of the TV series “Lost” through six seasons and one-hundred twenty-one episodes. Matthew starred. Nowadays he lives in my city, pilots his own plane. A friend who parks his glider in the same hanger as Matthew [and knows I am a "crazed" fan] arranged an in-person visit for my 80th birthday!
Was I bamboozled / flustered / barely lucid ? YOU BETCHA, at first. Until the “real” Matthew casually finessed his way out from behind a wing! Talk about personable, gracious and complimentary .. I melted on the spot; followed by thirty minutes of casual chit-chat. [ You know .. the usual stuff. ] Family, Theatre, Film, his TV series “Lost”. My grandson Charlie and his daughter were high school classmates. Oh, tons of parties were thrown out at that "Fox Mansion!” Promise you that I .......
will never forget
on that beautiful Fall day
how we talked and laughed
~~ BECAUSE EVEN THE UNDEAD DESERVE TO HEAL IN STYLE ~~
ARE YOU TIRED OF LOSING
YOUR HEAD BANDAGES
DOES YOUR UNDEAD LIFESTYLE
LEAVE WOUNDS OPEN
YOUR BRAIN EXPOSED
FEAR NO MORE FELLOW ZOMBIES
INTRODUCING ZOMB-AID
LIKE A HELMET - BUT SQUISHIER, MORE ABSORBENT
THE FIRST EVER HEAD BANDAGE
DESIGNED BY A ZOMBIE
FOR A ZOMBIE
HUSTLE ON OVER TO YOUR NEAREST
ZOMB-AID RETAILER
CHOOSE FROM A VARIETY
OF VIVID COLORS MADE FROM
100% RECYCLED SURVIVORS' CLOTHING
REMEMBER YOU ARE NOT
JUST COVERING A WOUND
YOU ARE MAKING A STATEMENT!!!
joints hanging from their lips / high as kites
a smoke filled strategy room / perched on stools
floor littered with crumbs / rivulets of pop
these pompous jerks / fallen prey to the newest fad
guaranteed to lose weight "Muffin and Coke diet"
a cartoonish sight to behold
Enter the cleaning crew / led by Natasha
goddess with an unmistakable air of
dormant wildness about her [speaks volumes]
Russians being pompous / ignored the
* NATASHA IS FORBIDDEN FRUIT / HANDS OFF *
signs posted everywhere / anywhere
clueless Russians like to hang
'sloppy-guy' strategists / the rough and the ready
Time to dive into Shay's weekly word list challenge .. twenty words from "Pages For You" by Sylvia Brownrigg. We are to use a minimum of three words in our poems.
brushstrokes of moonlight
in shades of jazzy blues
midnight's rhythms
wildflowers in bloom
mine and mine alone