Tangled web
Weave stronger somehow
Biting the bullet
Kills you anyway

Full spectrum color -
A tangled web
Beautiful

Razor sharp electricity of eyes
Gaze through me
I want to evaporate
I want to linger a little
Spider approaching
Settle.

The pressure keeps building.
And although I've never failed them,
they keep going and going,
Pressuring me until I'm at wits' end.

Ashamed, rejected, revoked, repressed,
like a whale distinct from the others
by its own, unique tone,
I'm forced to wander alone
in this vast, ocean of people cold as stone.

Indeed, I'm at my wits' end
The pent up emotions of which I cannot contain
are all about to burst, but still, I refrain
because who likes to be pressured
under certain circumstances so mundane?
So mundane, that in fact they can never, EVER
Weigh as much as I can contain.

I'm a bomb. And indeed, I'm about to blow up
the fuse within me is already lit up
in a minute or so, the culprits who had set me up
Will be blown away by my sudden rage.
But if only they had the courage to douse me
with their water of forgiveness,
then perhaps in a few seconds or less,
My fuse would cease in its track.

Still, they were careless, careless in my handling
It seems my fuse will still keep on going
Once I explode, they will be loathing.

The pressure keeps building.
And although I've never failed them...

...they WILL keep on going and going.

So you'd like to date my daughter,
This I can tell,
So line up behind the others,
And I'll see if you suit her well,

Now come here boy,
Just one to one,
Man to man,
It's okay, I may look stern, But I love to have fun,

So, son, what do you like,
Oh come on, you know what I mean,
What's your favorite curve on a woman's body?
Like *******, legs, thighs, ****, and do you like em thick or like em lean?

Oh ******* you say?
I see... I see...
Get out of my sight!
If you still want her, you will have to **** me!

Ah, you look like a nice chap,
what's your pleasure?
What's your favorite curve on a woman's body?
On which does her beauty measure?

Oh you like her rear?
Oh, well I do hope you like my daughter's,
For that's all you'll see as she walks away with me from you,
Sickening, disgusting, these gentlemen, not gentle but marauders,

Oh so it's legs?
Don't leave now and I'll break yours,
Oh so it's thighs?
Get out of my way! I'll find one who'll make her heart soar!

Last but not least...
Will I find no peace...?
So young man, I will ask you the same,
What of a woman has your testosterone release?

Well good sir,
Your daughter's attractive,
I cannot put this in ample words,
But it is not of that that she has my heart held captive,

I've heard you've asked of her body,
And my sir, if I may have the nerve,
For it is her smile, it is any woman's best curve,

Treat her well son.

I looked in the mirror this morning,
And there was a little tiny change,
An older look to my eyes,
My smile was foreign and strange.

My posture was straighter and taller,
My cheeks were thinner and slim.
I'm changing right before my eyes,
And every day I'm at the whim
of Whoever decides what I'll be
When I'm an adult someday.
When make believe no longer appeals to me,
And I've forgotten how to play.

So what I want to say to this elusive Whoever,
what I want to ask of this woman,
Is "Are all these changes the real me?
And is the real me who I am?"

I approach the traffic signal that stands
In its service for guidance
At the intersection
Of Frederick avenue and 10th street.

To my left is the statue of the gallant Pony Express rider,
And just to my right
Entering my field of vision is a
Man of some years.

These years are
Tucked away throughout a
Bent chassis.

And bent he was,
He was one
Who looked as though the labor of ten
Ordinary fellows
Passed across his crooked spine.

He was smoking a cigarette and walking,
Rather shuffling, short, stuttered steps
Southward perhaps to the
Wesley Towers senior living apartments
On the next block,
Or making his way to the
Patterson senior center one block
Further for some
Pitch with some pals.

I had to wonder,
Yet somehow to me
It was known, that this fellow
Walking so slow,
Built this old river city.

It took sixteen years to become acquainted with my old self.

The self that:

Could not write on crumpled papers,
Or sleep in untucked sheets,
Played her scales robotically,
Left no word incomplete.
Labelled all the cupboards,
Books were organized by name,
This was the life I led.
I never knew that it would change.

it took 4 weeks to fall in love with my new self

the
self
tha
t

writes on ollld receipts,
   kicks the covers        off the bed
     ~lets my fingers play freely~
         not every sentence has an en-
            stores shoes with coffee mugs!!
               writes in mArGiNs to save time
                  not all rules need to be   f o l l o w e d
                    not all poems need to

                        sound the same

who knew that little pill
would teach me how to live
not erase the 'me' that showed
but bring out the 'me' that hid
16 years of worry
of obsessive, anxious thoughts
who knew that little pill
would change me
I,
for one,
did not
.

- p. winter

Play fair
Wait your turn
Don't cheat
Help the other guy
Don't be cruel
Don't be selfish
Be friendly
Be kind
Care about the Earth and its people
Take what you need and leave some on the plate for the other guy
Smile more than you frown
                                  ljm

If you leave me
All the hangers will get tangled in the closet.
It won’t matter;  all my clothes will be on the floor.

If you leave me
The cheese in the refrigerator will turn green.
And the milk will soon be far too thick to pour.

If you leave me
The remote will only tune in somber shows.
That will be OK;  I’ll have forgotten how to laugh.

If you leave me
Dust bunnies will build a hutch beneath the bed
Where one forgotten slipper hides that I will never move.

If you leave me
The sun will shine on everything that’s not within my view.
I won’t mind;  my sunglasses will fool everyone but me.

If you leave me
Hummingbirds won’t visit the back garden any more
They’ll be blind to the red juice in the feeder.

If you leave me
I will build a house of memory and grief
And move myself inside and lock the door
                    ljm

i no longer pray for forgiveness.
i pray for growth.
and for me

that is enough.