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 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Anais Nin
"Why one writes is a question I can never answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me – the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art.
...
"We also write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely … When I don’t write, feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing."
('The New Woman', 1974)
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Secret
I never believed in love
And I'm not sure what to do
What is love exactly?
Is it possible it's true

We mumble the words I love you.
It's only been a day.  
But I don't think you can love someone so soon.
I don't even know if love is true.

These words that used to mean so much,
have become so little.
Misused.
Abused.
Untrue.

How can you love someone?
How do you really love someone?
I hear that this love is important.
But in fact I've never felt it.

I've never felt my heart tremble.
I've never felt my heart melt.
Maybe it's that I'm heartless.
Maybe I'm a bit psychopathic.

I'm not sure what to do.
Tell me if love is true.
Do you believe in it?
Do you feel it?
Because I know I never do.
the eagle is a lovely bird he flies wild and free
with elegance and grace a lovely bird is he
hovering so gently in the summer breeze
floating there so gently with such perfect ease
as graceful as can be  high up in the sky
theres nothing i like more than to watch an eagle fly
That ***** of yours that rules your life
has stabbed and torn my
flesh, spirit, mind, heart
apart.

Are you blind to the carnage
in plain view?

My warm blood that you say you hold so dear
puddles and pools
coagulates and cools
in front of you.

I see your footprints walking away
leaving a trail of maroon to dry
to a dusty brown.

I am empty of
hope, trust, will, want.

You have taken all of me

my tears
my safety
my health
my self-respect
my desire
my dignity.

You have it all already.

What more could you possibly want?

I am a void

and you want more....?
Comedy or tragedy? You decide.
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
cheryl love
Maybe
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
cheryl love
Maybe when I am old
I will be miserable and grey
My skin will want ironing
And I will wet myself all day.
Maybe there will be peace
And harmony amongst men
Maybe there will be no more worries
Maybe the world will be better by then.
So there wont be lines on my face
And I will be wearing a smile
I’ll be running around like a teenager
And I’ll be leaving my clothes in a pile.
Maybe.
I had a little dog he had a missing leg
the poor chap fell over when ever he would beg
he couldnt stand up properly he always used to fall
to get across the room he would lean upon the wall
he found it very awkward  to climb up on my knee
instead of using four  legs the poor chap had three
but he was  very loving  as gentle as can be
the best friend that i can have and he belongs to me
i had a little parrot all he did was curse
as he was getting older the swearing it got worse
i covered up his cage but this it made him mad
the swearing it got louder the language really bad
so i tied his beak up  to put it to an end
rude gestures with his feet he began to send
then i tied his feet up he fell down to the floor
the parrot he is dead now no swearing anymore
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Andrea
I'm Lonely
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Andrea
But I don't think you realize
how lonely a person can feel
sometimes.
I roll out of bed,
alone.
I walk around with others around me
but feel isolated, and out of tune.
I hate all of you.
And I sit at home alone dreaming
of something that's ridiculous
and juvenile,
but it eats away at me because
I can't have lovely things.
Can't I have a hand to hold sometimes?
Lips to kiss my forehead and whisper
sweet nothings to me while we lay
in the darkest of night, wide awake?
Maybe a heart for me to hear beating
when I rest my head against your chest.
Someone to bring the broom when I crumble
to tiny little pieces.
Just someone to keep me down when
I can't stop shaking.
Hands and fingers, to grace my skin
with their prescence.
But I can't have that,
because lovely things are
just out of my reach.
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Andrea
Fingers
 Nov 2013 Lyn Senz
Andrea
down her throat,
wrist deep.
Tickling her tonsils,
she groans because she can't.
Once, twice,
third times the charm.
Heaving and choking,
a pitiful amount of the night's
feast drips out before her.
Looking at what she gave back,
she sighs.
Wiping the tears from her fat cheeks
she tries again,
but to no avail.
She stands because she
know she can't anymore,
wipe more of the tears away.
"I'm disgusted." She says as
she looks in the mirror
and stares with her bug eyes.
"I'm disgusting."
And with weary eyes she glides
to her bedroom, refusing to
let her hands touch her body.
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