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 May 2013 E Elizabeth
F White
Adult
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
F White
Seriously?!

I'm a ****...

Wait. No you're not. Hold on.
I can't find...
I can't find my *******. Help me look.

blankets flung.
nothing.

You're...
you're laughing right now?
How could you not?


Can you see that
we're standing in a
giant pond of
ridiculosity.

a glasses lense
popped out.
hair a nest
of invisible
rodents.

his belt
all askew worried
face pursed
lips.

shirt tails- a crumpled
facade of the pressed
summer evening shadows
outlined behind
the lawn sprinklers from
the night before.

and in the cab
to work
phone almost
dies. 37 degree damp
heat pressing
against the car
like a monroe-type
kitten from the
50s.

the morning world
bustling awake
the driver asks
'you work this
afternoon?'

shake my head 'no'
slowly working the
knots out of my
hair

brace for the last
day.

And I'm
still missing
my underwear.
copyright fhw, 2010, 2011 ?

A.N: Golly this is...old old old. I found it in one of my folders and laughed at the absurdity. I'm about to get married now. To a wonderful man. Not the man in this poem. That one really actually was a ****.

Enjoy.
I am the vacant sea,
Bereft of sentimentality apparently,
Gallantly, I uncannily resemble,
An assembly of mistreated heroes,
And a villain or two;
I am a wave at its lowest ebb,
Further now from the shore,
Furthermore from the door,
Of the love I want to blow,
Me away;
Obsolete, I’m Pac-man in the penny arcade,
Ms. Pac-man’s ****** off for days,
Or months or years; or was she ever even here.

Always holed up in my cave,
Staring at the razor blade,
Waiting for divine intervention,
Some totalitarian convention,
To drag me away;
No cares, this lust,
This pushed me over the edge,
Through the hedge- funded by my
Need for mediocrity; indemnity,
Insatiable, eternally caught far,
From what I seek;
Could anyone love a creature so bleak?

Going on a diet of bread and water,
Lamb to the slaughter,
So that someone’s daughter,
Might love a Devil like me.
Mournfully, I adorned the gilded bench
Bereft of innocence and purity
Warmonger-in-chief for the city
Wistfully succumbing to love’s lament

Suddenly, I was roused from dreaming
In my peculiar, conscious slumber
By the sluggish, haunting thunder
Of a passing tram, obviously scheming

It trudged wearily by my side
Echoing inside my murky cavities
Where I commit my ***** travesties
The remorseful ones that guiltily I hide

It’s with a sigh I feel that macabre touch
For nature did not nurture me this way
To be so unwelcome and unworthy of the day
But I've loved so strong, perhaps too much
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
mûre
the hardest surgery is the one you perform on yourself.
Steady?
Ready?
No anesthesia but a chuckle of nervous humor
the first incision across your heart.


When you finish (many months later)
you put the scalpel down, wave weakly
to the clapping colleagues hugging each other in disbelief
from the observatory, sterile and eager
you give them a wan grin
and hope they've watched closely
so that now they know how...
how to do this.

At twenty-something, I was taught by Fear
who said nothing matters
and then at twenty-something-else I was taught by Faith
who said anything matters
And she wasn't the Sunday kind of Faith that you find
clasped between your palms, clasped like you're afraid
that if you let go the Faith will just tumble out and break.
No, she was the Faith that was bigger than God and so intimate
that sometimes I was the Faith, sometimes you were the Faith,
and sometimes the Faith was me.
So really, Faith doesn't have a name.
But Faith and Fear, they both breathe, they're each lung
and when I fill one, the other billows, after all
you need two to breathe.

And so then I, feeling bold, learned about Bravery.
I had heard about it in newspapers and history book indexes
and in our local volunteer firefighters.
Wondered if I could buy it.
Wondered how much it goes for.
But I couldn't find Brave until the moment I gave up on it
and said, ***** it, I'm so scared but I don't care anymore,
I'll just do it, Brave be ******.  
And surely enough, it was hiding beneath the tremors.
So really, Brave was the Siamese twin of I'll Just Do It.
which, by the way, wasn't in the glossary of this or any history book.

Everything changes, you know?
I'm changing, you're changing.
Oh, it storms me like the sea!
I secretly raise my glass to stasis, my faraway frenemy.
Don't tell the other Sagittarians, they'd exile me surely.
Change, letting go of my old faces
feels too close to dying,
feels too close to leaving you behind.

And I'm not ready to leave you behind.

Oh the West, keep your Mountains.
If only for a little longer.

I've excised my soul again and again
transplanted and sutured
but there's just no time.

Even with these visions from under the knife-
there's just no time to heal
before I'm laid on the table again.

Faith hold me-
Fear teach me
so I can...


Steady.

Please- stay with me.

*Ready?
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
F White
Taxed
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
F White
all I wanted was
your love.
now all I have

is your love

well played,
Fate.
copyright fhw, 2013
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
Chuck
Animals
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
Chuck
Judge me
Laugh at me
Whisper about me
Hate me
Love me
Call me names
I'm doing it to you
We are human
We are animals
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
Julia
Shadow
 May 2013 E Elizabeth
Julia
The grown-ups insisted
that G-d always stood behind
me, through everything,
but no matter how fast
I ever whirled around
It seemed He was always
one step ahead.
They say she was beautiful
And they regret the past tense
In which they speak
They say she was beautiful
And I try to remember
If it’s the truth
They say she was beautiful
That she was beautiful
Until she was no longer anything at all
And now I am here
And I cannot fill her place
For she walked in the sun
And the light burns my skin
And she danced on the wind
But I cannot fly
And she sang to the stars
But I have no voice
For I am just the broken home
In which she used to live
I am nothing but a shell
Empty
Because she is gone
They say she was beautiful
But now she is dead
And I am all that is left
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