With each of your blanket statements
about Our Generation
or words spoken too frankly
of Our Unfortunate Timing
just for a moment
I hear ‘Our’
and think of the home, the kids, and the mortgage
that I will one day call ‘Ours’ with a strong, loving man
and you with a smart, gentle thing.
i know its probably the weirdest thing
you've ever heard of in your life, but
this man so smart and so attractive,
it hurts. he knows about Star Trek and
hes a bibliophile and he drink green tea
for fucking fun. thats fucking amazing.
he served in the Coast Guard for 20+
years and he has nine children.
he has double major in Physics and
Education. i just really want to kiss him
so hard and feel his facial hair just rubbing
on my cheek and with his really nice hands
all up in my hair and maybe i better stop
because im in school and this sexual
frustration is killing me. dammit.
I'm not ashamed to say
my boobs look impeccable.
and that makes me beam
in every possible way.
we're rounding a long winter,
and it's cloudy outside.
I'm smart enough to know
that most days—
you have to make
your own god damned sunshine.
Shasha: If you like then u should’ve put a ring on it.
Emily: A.) not the right song b.) not singing time yet C.) What’s your name?
Shasha:BUT I WANT TO SING !!! And I’m Natasha
Emily: Sorry about that folks I’m Emily. We are the Purple People Peepers
Shasha: Purple is the color peeping is the uhm.... Dollar??
Emily: Well who here knows about the smurfs?
Audience hoots and hollers
Emily:Well sometimes if I embarrass Natasha enough she looks like a smurf.
ShaSha: You weren’t supposed to tell people.
ShaSha: Emily shush its my turn.
Emily: Well alright.
Shasha: We’re gonna be singing!
Emily: Yeah... What song?
Shasha: We Wish You A Merry Christmas!
Emily: (Gives Shasha a sarcastic look) And A Happy New Year?
Shasha: What song is that?
Emily: (Gives Shasha a confused look) Or, we can sing the song we planned on singing.
Shasha: (Smiling) Okay! (Turns and looks at Emily, very confused) What song is that?
Emily: I Want You Back by
Shasha: Cher Llyod!
Emily: No, The Jackson 5.
Shasha: The band?
Emily: (Gives her another sarcastic look) Yes, Natasha, the band. The group, Sweetie, The Jackson 5 is a group.
Shasha: I know, when are we gonna start singing?
Emily: Right now.
Shasha: Great! Who’s singing first?
Emily: I don’t know!!! How about Hermes??Maybe Jesus??
Shasha: \What does that have to do with the song?
Emily: Really? I hadn’t thought about that *sarcasticalIy
Shasha: Because you’re not smart like me. (smiles and points at herself proudly)
Emily: Yeah.....thats why.....
Fingers and thumbs tapping out messages
so many texts written, so many read, smiles apart
faces, eyes, feelings, never shared
music videos; lips and music separate
empty sounds, never tugging the heart strings.
Thumbs and fingers keying in distance
so much data, so little experience shared, time apart
laptops, smart phones, processing emptiness
unfeeling, sampling blandness, subtleties lost
empty words, crowding our lives.
Curves, flowing lines and spaces, passion
squashed out are the senses
sweat and smells, laughter lost.
All in the empty kingdom of bits and bytes
reigned by the gods of technology
the mantra being faster, faster
all fingers and thumbs in the affairs of the heart.
As surely as we are propelled forward
back to the dark ages
the dark castles of aloneness
Empty words, lost in the cells of our separation
all fingers and thumbs.
Staying out of the kitchen because she can’t stand the heat.
Playing in the dark basement because warm air rises.
Walking close to God because Hell has no place for angels.
Vacationing in frigid locations because the sun hibernates there.
Painting with blues and grays because reds and oranges scorched her canvas.
Loving with a lukewarm heart because any hotter would ensure 3rd degree burns.
Living in Seattle because the constant rain puts out her flaming phobias.
Crying out every ice-cold tear because her fevered cheeks need relief.
Writing every chilling detail of her fiery past because it’s therapeutic.
Giving up the fear of fire because the fear of not living scared her even more.
If I could honestly speak to him now
If he was here drinking a cup of coffee
In a cold French morning
I would be staring at his hands
Partially to avoid eye contact
Partially because I love those damn hands
I would speak about him in third person
And say :
Not a single compliment?
He was actually mean
In a sweet way - does it make any sense? -
I'm confused too
In fact, nobody has ever made me this confused before
Wasn't I pretty enough, smart enough?
Wasn't I pretty at all?
He never complimented me
But i fell for him
Maybe because he made me feel less lonely
In a very lonely January night
Or was it because he said good night,while i said good morning?
The same way I said goodbye to the one I loved
And was prepared to greet someone new
And God knows how much I wanted him
To be that new person
And I kept greeting him
But he wouldn't respond
I guess I should thank him
For making me discover
The taste of loving , without being loved back
It's bitter, if you ask me
Bittersweet if you're a bit of a masochist
He said stuff, sometimes
Little words that made me smile
But why did he have to take them back so quickly?
He even mentioned a girl once
Right after i told him he broke my heart
And I hated her, for existing, and for not loving him
And for having bigger boobs than mine
If i could honestly speak to him now
If he was here drinking a cup of tea
In a warm Moroccan morning
I would be staring at his hands
Partially to hide the sadness in my eyes
Partially because I love those damn hands
I would speak directly to him
And say :
Maybe you liked me
Maybe you liked me not
But you haven't allowed me to love you
You got me all confused
And I enjoyed it for a while
But I got all mad at you
For I couldn't keep myself from caring
And in case you haven't noticed
I really craved mornings spent with you
But you couldn't care less
So when an old friend offered to love me again
I just couldn't say no
And in case you pushed me away
Only because you felt insecure
I hope you learn from this
And let people love you
Because you my friend
I told you that once , right?
I said : You are wonderful
And you thought I was on drugs
I don't need to be on drugs to like you
That's the point.
always singing the same tune
(one s-h-o-t---> deadweight)
we are not quite adults and not quite children
on our own
uncontrolled and untamed
flipped the coin and lost willpower
empty useless bombshell
dumb blonde turned red
what are you hiding from
tied and tethered to the wall
up against it
up against the wall
And I've thought,
And I've thoughtfully thought,
With this thinker I have,
As to what I have not.
And I'm growing so tall,
Nearly up to your knee.
And I'm learning as much
As life teaches to me.
I'm thankful for
So very much, it is true.
All the good things I know,
I have learned them through you.
You've showed me how grand
A banana can be.
And those sweet, juicy grapes
You've shared well with me.
Those apricots, peaches,
Sometimes they're quite good.
And those big nectarines
Taste just like they should.
Apples and cherries, they're
Fit for a pie.
And they're all kind of good
For a regular guy.
And, of course, chocolate cake,
Double dutch, I must say,
Can cheer up the grayest,
Most gloom-covered day.
But you know what I found out
Not so long go?
A top-secret secret
You really should know?
A riddle, a mystery,
So well hidden in time,
A secret so secret,
I consider it mine?
It all comes down to pudding.
Oh, it's grand as can be.
It is a treasure of measurely joy,
It is the finest ambrosia,
And that smidgen of joy,
Strong enough to turn a man
Back into a boy.
If it isn't asking too much,
If it's all right with you,
And your Motherly touch,
Would you ever so kindly
And properly see
How much fun my world
Of pudding can be!
Let's have puddin' for breakfast!
And puddin' for lunch.
How about puddin' for supper,
And puddin' for brunch!
Let's have puddin' for Easter!
Now that sounds like fun!
Let's have puddin' on Christmas!
Can it be done?
And Apricot too!
Red Ribbon Puddin'
That's bluer than blue!
With the bilbobs inside,
And I love 'em, those bilbobs
That hickle and hide -
Right where they're crunchy
And scrunchy as new.
I'm sure I don't have to
Explain them to you.
Oh, and Pimple Plum Puddin'
That Gran likes to make.
It's hidden so deep in
Her own puddin' cake.
And it's silky as lemon drops
Left in the sun.
Nothing quite like it when
Grandma is done.
Mom, you have to love puddin'
When Winter is here!
When snowflakes are falling
And Christmas is near!
And you surely love puddin'
When Springtime sneaks in!
You love it so much, Mom,
You want puddin' again!
And again, and again,
And again, 'til it's Summer,
Oh, jello's Ok,
But there ain't nothing funner
Than a bowl full of puddin',
All topped in whipped cream!
With a glazing of Caramel
There's Applesauce Custard,
And there's Strawberry Duff,
Even Toffy Raspberry
With marshmallow fluff.
Oh, and Chocolate truffle,
It tastes like a dream!
And there's Butterscotch Ripple,
And Cookies and Cream!
And that can't be so bad.
What did Dr. Whiff say?
And I quote: "A boy should eat pudding
At least twelve times a day."
And he knows what he's saying,
Because he wears a hat.
Don't you want me thinking
And acting like that?
So, I'll have puddin' for breakfast!
Because it can't be beat,
It's a pleasant delight,
And a most scrumptious treat!
And it's healthy, I say!
And in the very best way-
It'll help me with learning
My lessons today.
It's filled with those itchin's
That make a kid smart.
I'll be better at baseball!
I might understand art.
Mom, It'll help me with homework,
Because my head's super thinkin',
Oh, I'll bet you'll even hear
All my thinkin' gears tinkin'.
I may learn to speak English,
Or Russian, or Greek.
I'll be fluent in something
I know how to speak.
Soon I'll be smart as a wick,
And so very clever.
And I haven't figured anything out yet.
I'll pretty near be a genius,
I'll be running the show.
There won't be a nothing
That I do not know.
So fix me some puddin',
I'll be greatful as tea,
And I'll make you as proud
As a Mom ought to be.
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"A balanced diet is a cookie
in each hand."
I dont want to be who I am
Make me someone else
But not somebody smart
O god no
Make me someone stupid
I hate being who I am
if you can please help me