I often sit and contemplate and think
God in all his righteousness was right
He gave this earth to mankind as a sigh
Of his unmerited love from above
Saying have rule over all then the great fall

When will I ever feel set free
Will you be the first to relive me

Your approval is my master
Chaining me with silent laughter
Making forgiveness my greatest enemy
While my guilt grows stronger in me
There is refection of success
All the while striving endlessly without any rest
Knowing inside what could have been
The realization of my sin
I see myself true reflection in the mirror
And I ask myself once again
Today will I see myself win?

Something I am proud to say
I choose to no longer live that way

It's the ultimate challenge that I had to face
Finding a life of balance I fought hard to gain
I learned to live a new way, finding the real me
And I love my life today living life as free

I still sit and contemplate and think
How God in all his righteousness, yes, was right
Giving earth to mankind as a sign
Of his unconditional love from above
Saying in the earth have rule over all
Then took the time to forgive us for the fall

This time it's Fate.
No longer can I pretend
for we have run out of track
and we must stop now
lest we careen over the ghastly drop before us
lest our hearts inevitably smash to smithereens.

There's a small vice on my heart
that you turned incrementally since the day we kissed
Always there was space to manoeuvre
wriggle
a gap to shift around in and say, 'That's better'
to comfortably fool myself that I was not caught.
But now, my dear....
Now the grip leaves me gasping
and that metal feels cold
and I cannot ignore it.
The trouble is
I kissed your elegant, beautiful face
and I guided your hand to that vice in my chest
and enveloped your fingers with mine
We turned those keys together.
I was so enamoured
and I wanted your love.
I told myself I could get out at any time.

Too late, my love
It was always too late
For we're kindred souls across lifestyles
and lifetimes
and my body knows yours like the taste of my tears.
I resign myself, then, to bleeding.
I resign thee to Fate and what she may decide
knowing only that never shall I be your jailor.
I refuse to allow
that wild tempest soul to be anything but free.

I am happy to be caught.
Though I writhe with this pain
and slumber eludes me in my misery.
For one thing I have realised
is the depth of my cowardice.
Although yours came out as tenored and trembling
you still had the bravery to speak the words emblazoned on your heart
the ones that threatened to fall from your lips
as my head lay perfectly in situ against your collarbone
and my heartbeat and breathing lined up with yours
in our quiet symbiosis at 3 a.m.
I danced around the words
flitted lightly, noncommittal
and said 'I think I'm falling in love with you',
which was a lie.
You are far braver than I
and to this day I've run
but you deserve far greater than that which I have meted out to you.
You deserve honesty.
You deserve the breadth and depth of what my heart aches to tell you
though I am frightened beyond words that the vice can go no tighter.

I love you.

Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!

No big deal, your name, your email, bought n' sold daily,
Like a baseball card, your picture and vital stats are on the internet,
Your credit card in the fine print tells you they love you much,
But the data they collect, might get credited to such and such.

You're fair game if your sign up for anything.

Now I know I am getting on in years,
Tho spry rhymes with die, I flatly deny
Any notion that
My great beyond is just around the corner!

But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!

Got a color brochure
Suggesting that when my travels are over,
A nice place to rest my head might be
St. Michael's Cemetery.

St. Michael's Cemetery
7202 Astoria Blvd, East Elmhurst
(718) 278-3240
Friday hours 7:00 am–5:00 pm

In case you want to check it out too...

Tho I live not in the Borough of Queens County,
My zip code but a hop, skip and jump away,
The cemetery adjacent to the Grand Central Parkway
Which is actually quite thoughtful of
The mass marketer who dreamed up this scheme
(And got paid a plentiful amount of bounty).
My kids could wave as they drive by,
On the way to LaGuardia or JFK, (airports)
And say, guilt free, they visit me regularly!

Sadly, their plot foiled,
I will be buried in
New Jersey soil,
Near to my pop, who liked the
Wide open spaces of suburbia
And shopping on Route 4,
Where the selection is great
And there is no sales tax.

But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name,
And I am now target marketed,
Niched, pretty soon the boys from AARP
Will come calling, reminding me of the gap
Tween Medicare and the poor house!

Ok ok,  grow up you say, tho your hair is full,
And not even a hint of baldness shines forth,
Nonetheless, its color is zebra striped gray,
And when someone says they got my back,
I think, please, please take it and keep it....

Oh yeah,
Dear St. Mikes
You might ask for some of your money back,
Cause this sily scribe is a member of the tribe,
Some call "those dirty (hint: it rhymes with Mikes),"
It starts with K and ends in yikes!

But thanks for thinking of me anyway.

Hasta La Pasta!


She stands in the doorway
As is her wont,
Bidding adieu to the retreating figure
Who spent the night in
Adoration of the Magi,
Her charms, her hair,
Her serpentine figure most fair,
And scribbling on Hello Poetry
Till his eyes said, no mas!

The retreating figure that be me,
Late for work at 7:20.
Over the shoulder I exclaim,
Hasta Mañana!
Which is silly because
My return is faithfully guaranteed,
Every eve for as long as I live!

She laughs and replies,
Hasta la Pasta!

Stop in my tracks,
About face and in woeful Italian,
Do exclaim, in a deeply serious timbre,
Hasta la Pasta?
Basta!  
(Italian for "that-does-it")

You can have my love, my soul,
But leave to me the labor of poetry.
Loving you with words is
my domain, the speciality of my terrain,
So no more hasta la pasta if you please,
And by the bye, I would love some
Tonight, say around eight,
At a restaurant where the moon is
The only light illuminating our faces.

7:45 AM

You are night song
The ocean in breeze
In my truth
Is where you belong
A touch in the morning
And I am down on my knees
Speaki of destiney
Say you
I  am not wrong  
Your smile to sustain  me
Though kingdom may come
Nightstars fall into  the sea
Lifeblood of my soul
You are become
Without you
I am no longer
                       Me.                  Hy

I write because if I don't
I would literally die go insane
From all the drama that life
is putting me through right now
I'm dealing with most of it on my own while
keeping everything bottled up on the inside
I can't make certain people listen to me
or care what I have to say

If it wasn't for writing
I would have never found out what my talent is
I always wondered what my purpose is for being alive
Am I just going to be another black
statistic with a chip on my shoulder

Not caring about myself or others,
just doing things that gives me quick gratification
Not knowing that I was
destroying myself internally
with drugs and alcohol,
or trying to satisfy this void
in my life with money .

I don't know
what I would do if couldn't write
This pen, paper and these words are the only
worldly things I can depend on.
There is never any
backstabbing or mistrust going on,
writing picks me up when
I'm down.

Shannon Pollard
© Summer, 2007

My mind has a million thoughts per second everyday
One of those seconds it dwells on you
Why you so cool, girl?
My heart defrosts when I see your pretty face, voluptuous
lips, black silky hair
And hear your soft, innocent voice
You get on nerves
I Wanna just leave you alone like everybody else I can't
stand
You never let things go
Knocking the walls I set up in this maze
You saw through all the smog and haze
Caught me on all my bullshit
Why do you consistently keep trying
Where someone else either wouldn't have given a damn or
would have given up?
I can count on you to always be there to bug the hell out
of me
Until you get to the bottom of the situation
Not because you want something or to make me feel bad
But because you cared to stare darkness in the face
We might have a lot of issues
We argue a lot
It don't change how we feel about each other
Regardless of what people think
Just wanted to say that I love you, my one and only
Fuck other people
We have spiritual attraction that is worth more than sex
I wanna be with you forever if I could
Shannon Pollard
© Fall, 2006