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Pidge  Sep 2015
Lola
Pidge Sep 2015
Lola , Lola
She cleans everyday
Lola , Lola
She doesn't like to play
Lola , Lola
Why do you like shouting
Lola , Lola
You always say your leaving
Lola , Do you have to be a tool
Telling me i'm stupid and to stop being a fool
Lola i love you but why do you hit me
Hit me always with your broom
Lola why are you staring at the window?
Looking lost, eating your own shadow
Lola is there something funny?
Cause your laughing now hysterically
Lola your bruising my arm
im getting dizzy, everything's so warm
Lola , I blacked out
What did you do?
There's blood running down my mouth
Lola your scaring me
Stop staring at me
Lola stop please there's so much noi--
Jessie Jan 2011
She first met the mirror when she was
about four and a half years old,
strutting around in Mommy's heels and pearls,
wanting to grow up just like Mama:
beautiful and
strong, intelligent, and
successful. She was
young, sweet and pretty,
dancing the years away
without a care.

Mother always taught her how to behave like a lady:
manipulate manipulation
ever so sweetly-
so gently-
so secretly-
discretely-
and smile.
Never cry unless you are
alone.


You must work hard to be happy,
and happiness isn't free.
(And remember happiness
can be taken away from you,
but don't let it look like it can, because
that's how you beat it.)

Always look in the mirror
to see  what everyone else can see.

Never feel sorry for yourself.

Lola was a clever, and rebellious girl,
politely mischievous, and prettily spoiled.
She learned to **** with
kindness, to
be so sweet it made her sick to her own stomach
and she simply wanted to run to the bathroom
and ***** all the undeserved
praise and adoration.

But, she soaked it all
up like a sponge, primping herself in front
of the mirror
every day.

And as she grew, the mirror stood there,
with years of little dresses, and mother's
jewelry, and cute new tights every Christmas
prancing across the glass; epitome of
a child: selfish, heartless,
innocent, sweet.

Mistakes could not be made,
and if they were,
they weren't mistakes.
She always painted over her sins like ornaments on a tree;
add a little glitter here, a little paint there,
and every thing will be
alright for everyone
to see.
Just smile, Lola, darling,
and breathe.
(Breathe.)

She is a classic and tragic beauty,
this Lola. One day,
she came to a realization
that shattered her mind.

She stood in front of the mirror
and as she looked, she found she could not
recognize the girl inside.

The girl in the mirror was all grown up, and
could be anyone she wanted to be. Except,
the girl in the mirror didn't look
like Lola, or sound
like Lola,  or do the things
Lola liked to do.

The girl looked happy there, in her pretty clothes,
her sparkling smile,
her polished shoes, but

Lola stood before the mirror
confused because she couldn't see herself.

Lola wanted to see herself.

She looked behind the mirror.
She discovered
that the mirror was different on both
sides.

One side was reflective,
and the other
was see-through.
But the side that was see-through were rose-tinted,
and made everything shimmer
and glow.

"Oh **** it,"
said Lola in a drunk rage one day,
and she punched the mirror
And watched it fall to the floor.

To hell with it, she thought, and picked up
the pieces of her shattered reflection,
and made herself a mask.
She glued them all
together, in the shape of her face, so that it
would fit only her.

She learned to like how the world looked
with rose colored lenses, and she supposed that
would have to do.

She wakes up each day, with a cup of coffee and,
a cigarette, putting on her make-up, her jewelry,
her mirrored mask--
like a a barbed wire fence
wrapped in silk ribbons.

Everyone smiles at her,
and she smiles too.

She can only see the the beauty
in everything she sees, and all eyes that look at her
can only see the beauty in themselves.

Lola keeps her mask a secret, so that everyone will
smile.

She doesn't mind that she's
invisible now.
The world smiles at her,
and she's free behind her mask.

Everything is okay now,
except

Lola regrets never asking the girl in the mirror
Who she was.
PS  May 2016
Lola.
PS May 2016
I know why Lola did it.
And I know she'll do it again.
Someone like me has got to leave
I've just gotta figure out when.

I know why Lola did it.
It wasn't just for fun.
It's taken me two years of tears
But now I've narrowed it to one.

I know why Lola did it.
She'd done it all before.
What a friend I have and then
Nobody will let me know any more.

Lola is the type to stay hidden in the grass,
In the past, in the night
One second I'm stuck here in fright.
She's still so young in her mind,
So unkind, so alive
Let me tell you I'm not a child.
Lola.

I know why Lola did it.
She couldn't stand the thought.
Of him choosing me over her
So she had to let him rot.

Lola.
Lola.
Why?
Lola is a real person who's name has been changed. What a strange lady.
Lola una kong nasilayang maging  tunay na nanay.
Pagmamahal sayo'y tunay na naramdaman.
Mabuting Pangaral ay sayo unang natutunan.
Minsan mo  mang napapagalitan at napapalo ito'y sa ikabubuti ko naman.
Katuwaan ay nakakamtan pag ikaw ay nasisilayan lalo't makita sa mga mata at labi ang iyong kasiyahan sa twing kami sayo ay dumadalaw.
Mga anak mo at apo ay nakukompleto para pangungulila mo ay maibsan.
Sa twing pasko ay paparating pananabik sa puso ay walang mapaglagyan dahil sa ikaw at ibang pamilya ay makakasalo.
Lola ikaw ang una kong naging tunay at tapat na kaibigan.sa tuwing ang puso ay may dinaramdam ikaw ang unang sinasabihan.mga pangaral na ibinibigay mo ay malugod kong pinapakingan.
Ngunit isang araw kami ay nagimbal ikaw daw ay may karamdaman,pilit ang oras ay hinahabol upang ikaw ay masilayan at makausap man lang.
Ngunit tadhana ikaw ay ipinagkait at damdamin ay sinaktan,nang malaman  na ikaw ay tuluyan ng namaalam.
Masakit ang yong paglisan,kirot sa puso hangang ngayon ay nararamdaman.
Pasko ay paparating na ngunit ikaw ay wala na
Sabi nila tangapin na lang ang yung paglisan,ngunit paano tatangapin kung ang puso ay hindi pa handa sayong pamamaalam.
Puso ay hindi parin matangap na kami ay tuluyan mo ng nilisan.
Pangungulila sa puso sana ay iyong maibsan,sa panaginip ko sana ikaw ay dumalaw.
Always love your grandparents,you cannot get another one If you lost them once.
Mokomboso  Mar 2016
Little Lola
Mokomboso Mar 2016
In my nerve endings is a memory
My sense of touch quite vivid
Making an rigorous attempt
At how we would have felt
I can feel your skin when I cup your chin
Coarse textures covering me
Limbs grip like velcro
In my perfect dream I already know

Rescue me
Take me back to sanctuary
Return me
To my sun washed lola

I feel it in my shoulders
Runs deep through to my fingers
My mind had forgotten
My body captured the ghost
Its past relived through tingling toes
I can hazzard a guess
That this was how we felt

Rescue me
Take me back to sanctuary
Return me
To my sun washed lola

When I heard the kindly mama
Sing in foreign tongues
I'm restless like a baby
Unnerved by the ache though
Soothed by weird nostalgia
Tonight I'll dream again
Carried by intrinsic, near mystic
Knoweldge of home

Rescue me
Take me back to sanctuary
Return me
To my sun washed lola
weh
JB Claywell Aug 2014
The desire to make the rest of these words rhyme
Is immense!
Alas, I cannot do it.
All I can do is read Frost’s
iambic pentameter and wonder
just what has become of Lola C. Edwards?
It’s her tome that I’ve purchased for two bits
at this decrepit, yet beloved thrift shop.

The book became hers, according to her inscription,
in the year 1970.
Now, it belongs to me in 2014.
I bought it because it’s The Complete Poems of Robert Frost;
the same that resides in my father’s library
and was greedily scanned by my hungry eyes and inspired mind.
But, what happened to Lola, some years ago?
Was it the cancer? Did it consume her bones?
Was she surrounded by loved ones?
Was she all alone?
What else but death could force her to relinquish such a text?
Surely, she couldn’t have done so willingly.
Her estate has been sold.
Her knick-knacks dusted and boxed for their final voyage to The DAV.
Turned over to uncaring brutes that couldn’t care less about
her beloved crystal cake plate, now shattered, or the book
that I hold in my hand today.
Lola C Edwards shares her life with me.
Every time I open this compendium,
I shall celebrate her, this beloved stranger!
Because, we are alike, she and I
in that we have chosen the road less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.
*
-J. Claywell
©P&ZPublications; 2014
Random Guy  Nov 2019
goodbye lola
Random Guy Nov 2019
my lola died
and I'm so faraway

can't cry
can't scream
don't know why
numb, I seem

my lola died
and I'm so faraway

can't go home
even if I try
I'm not alone
I feel like it, why?

my lola died
and I'm so faraway
goodbye lola

Mask up my pain
Hold back my tears
I'm goin' insane
Nobody knows
All by myself
Let the rain hit me
I'm goin' insane, nobody knows - Russ
R Saba  Nov 2013
Lola
R Saba Nov 2013
I bet her name is Lola.
After all, she fits the part,
all little girl, sweetheart,
bow in hair and storybook ringlets,
bouncing down the halls
on pretty shoes
that I would never wear.
I bet she places her small hand
on your arm when she flirts,
eyelashes ablaze
and head tilted,
inadvertently charming her way
into adulthood.
I bet her voice is sweet,
crackling with forced sexuality
as she melds childhood innocence
with the politics of growing up,
trying to get the best of both worlds
and almost succeeding.
I bet her wide smile falters
when she walks away,
as she realizes the impression she has made
and, too proud to turn back,
continues down the hall
feeling tall
and yet invisibly small,
little girl, sweetheart
in search of rebellion.
I watch her, and
I wonder what
her problem is.
I bet her name is Lola.
people-watching

— The End —