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I wish I was the contents of a jar,
For years preserved in the sweet security of the glass
Hidden away from the aging brought by air.
My passion for flavor remains untouched, never decaying.
Awaiting one day, to be immersed back into the world
And to be devoured by a hungry soul
 May 2013 Plain Jane Glory
Nemo
The ceiling tiles are gray
Pock marked with the thoughts of seemingly intelligent kids
staring
Foreign to determination
And they aren’t blue like the sky
Or the same shade as it is today
But you might wonder if all the kids
Might still be staring
Even if at the sky
free, and infinite
hopelessly, helplessly
Still waiting for the bell to ring
life used to be so simple
wake up in the morning, have some cereal
walk to school all excited
you got to see your friends after all
recess was such a blessing
20 minutes of fresh air, playing tag or kickball
girls had cooties so you pretended you were too cool to hangout with them
and they giggled and pointed and teased you
but that meant they liked you, and it made you smile
after school you'd play in the yard
leaping from surface to surface, cause the ground was lava, and you couldn't fall
joy was so easy to come by
hardship was a runny nose, or wheat bread for your lunch
and the cuts on your arms were from crawling in a rose bush
chasing butterflies with a mindless passion
dinner was a time for family
you could talk about your day, spend time with dad
and after, maybe everyone would watch tv together
laughing and smiling
life was so simple back then
why'd it have to change?

now you don't wake up in the mornings
because you couldn't sleep last night
the demons didn't let you
breakfast?
you haven't had that in years; you never have the time
you still walk to school, but now its a slow, weary trudge
because you are dreading the hours you spend in a perfect hell
anxiety ridden, stress filled, insult filled torture
recess doesn't exist anymore
because when you are older, they decide you don't need it
now the guys you used to hangout with think they are too cool for you
they are off chasing girls, because that is what they;re supposed to do
and the girls? well, they still call you names
but somehow, "******" doesn't make you smile quite like "butthead" did
after school you trudge home and stare at a screen
killing time, trying to find anything to distract yourself
so you don't have to consider reality
because nowadays, the ground really is like lava
and if you walk in it wrong, all those ugly problems will rear their heads
being sick is normal; you have worse things to deal with
because dad sleeps on the couch, and mom's smiles never reach her eyes
and the cuts on your arms?
you tell people it was some rose bushes you stumbled in walking home
but in all honestly, you put them their yourself in the depths of the night
after another dinner you skipped, because being fat is a sin
and family time is gone, you spend the night alone
brooding and sobbing
a hopeless wreck, unable to find the joy you used to have
life used to be so simple
I guess all good things had to end
 May 2013 Plain Jane Glory
Liam
At what point can I call myself a poet?

If I could fully articulate what and how I felt
  at the moment when I watched my mother
  slowly slip away from me and this world

If I could completely convey the oppressive sense of loss
  the helplessness, the hopelessness, the loneliness
  the shocking realization of irreversibility, the finality

If my words could make you feel the draining of my soul
  the relinquishment of having even an instant in the future
  when it seems that all is perfect in my world

If I could construct a phrase that could relate the emptiness
  behind the grief that comes with knowing that no longer would
  birthdays and holidays be wrapped in her joy and infectious spirit

If my poem could shout out to you the overwhelming regret
  that accompanies the inability to hold her, to kiss her, to say I'm sorry
  or to tell her just how very much I love her ever again

If I were truly able to do these things
  maybe then I could call myself a poet


                                 Happy Mother's Day, Mom
                                    I miss you & I love you!
                                            ****'s & ooo's
You beat me up
you lock me away
oh what have you done?
Ice cream and walks  plus the sweet talks
you "say" you Love me
you "say" you care
but is it true?
I dare say not
stay away,
stay away from me.
oh what have you done
you ruined my life
so
I'll ruin your's
my life with out you
is oh so great,
oh wait you're to late
If i had it my way,
and you had it your's all i can say is
never more..
savannah  *rawdon
Three special words that I need to hear
As I hold you close, as I draw you near
Please make it clear
Whisper in my ear
Those three words that I need to hear

When I hear those words I will make them mine
Three simple words make up the perfect line
I love to hear time after time
Would it be such a crime
To want to hear them in prime time

Why is it so hard to let those words go
You can say them fast or you can say them slow
On the tip of your tongue wont you let them flow
Those three words that I need to know

"Here's the Remote"
If all you are doing is searching for treasure
In the journey of your life
You will never know of the pleasure
Till you first know of the strife

For what good is knowing pleasure
If you first don't know the pain
To use as the cup of measure
Showing how much you have gained

So take it with a grain of salt
That is when you will find
A gratitude that you've gone through
The pain that brought the pleasure to life
This can be hard to talk about
Very difficult to say
But I'd like to tell you what I'd like
Upon my dying day

Could you throw a great big party
A wake to end all wakes
And if there's nothing nice to talk about
Just throw a few lies my way

Stand me in the corner
Prop both my hands up high
So when all my friends come in
I can both wave hello and wave bye, bye

When the parties over
Before I begin to ripe
Fold me up for easy storage
In a cool place that night

In the morning let me ride on top of the car
So I can feel that southern breeze
Before we arrive at the funeral home
Please clean the bugs out of my teeth

When you step up to my golden casket
For one final glance
Don't look past the coat and tie
Cause I wont be wearing any pants

This all sounds fine and dandy
But I have no money for my elaborate plans
So I guess just take me out back to the barbecue pit
Then flush my ashes down the can
Me: So Mike, tell us a little bit about yourself...

MH: You should know that...your me.

Me: I know but I'm interviewing you...

MH: Isn't that a bit odd?

Me: Yes but your to lazy and cheap to hire anyone and we both know you'd have to pay someone because no one is that interested in you...
I'm you and I'M not that interested.

MH: You do have a point there!

Me: Okay...shall we start over? Are you ready to dive in deep?

MH: You bet!

Me: If you could be any color you wanted...what color would that be?

MH: Wow! You don't play games! That is deep! Can I get back to you with that?

Me: Sure....but you know me.

MH: Yes I do Mike and that's just one of the many things I admire about you.

Me: Why thank you Mike!

Me: How about, if you were a tree....

MH: Woah....Your blowing my mind here!

Me: How about we start with something simple....Can you remember the first poem you wrote?

MH: Not line for line but I do remember it was in the 7th grade to my first girlfriend...something about her turning around and seeing the boy in love with her...
Of course that boy was me.
I'm sure it also had lines in there about her flaming red hair and massive freckles and who doesn't love those! Her name was Fresca Schmertz....a true beauty!

Me: That's great but could you keep your answers short? We don't want to lose the readers...

MH: Yes

Me: Good...so how long after that did you discover you were an amazingly talented poet (his words, not mine)

MH: Yes

Me: Yes...what.

MH: You asked me to keep my answers short....so I am

Me: But that's not really an answer.

MH: Okay, then maybe

Me: Maybe?!  That doesn't even make any sense! This just isn't going to work!

MH: I think its going great for someone who's talking to them self....

Me: Arghhhh!!!

To be continued?
After reading the interview on the blog yesterday I thought...I want to be interviewed and you know I couldn't find anyone so I brought out the trusty cassette recorder...sat down with myself and started talking!
One thing I found out is that I'm pretty fascinating once I get to know me!
i take pills for minor headaches
pills for major anxiety
if you've looked out at the world today
then you know i take a lot of these

i take a pill to help with hair growth
i take a pill for my allergies
with the pollutants that are floating in the air
i sometimes find it hard to breath

i take a pill when i need to sleep
another when i need to wake up
the one that i use to sleep with
i take sometimes when times get rough

i take a pill when i get angry
a special one that calms me down
it takes me to a better place
to the very center of happy town

a pill to help with motion sickness
when my world begins to sway
fish oil pills to help with blood flow
plus garlic...to keep the vampires away

i take a pill when i eat something spicy
a pill that helps with gas
a pill when i'm feeling in the mood
that helps the mood to last

i take a pill if i ever forget*
to ever take a pill
and if i forget to take the second one
i take two more to relieve my guilt

i guess you get the idea
if not this poem is nil
so i'll just put down my purple nexium pen
*and go take another pill
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