"bates" poems
The night under the mirror
went through a revolving door.
~~~~
Eventually I did put a face
to your loving cues your emails
It had been so long since your destiny had asked you my King
to marry her
that hunting jealous day that began much earlier under a 1975 degree celcious and did burn us to a crisp
Nothing would have given me more assurance more pleasure such a gracious challenge to a mysterious
proposition to dig my heart
for the final blow
one queen for his other
prior queen bee me
Karijinbba
and a winner I would have been
all night with my King
under the mirror!
to obliterate her wedding band
from his hand
how loving of you cupid of mine
always digging at my heart
for my heart of gold
then came cause and effect of karma blowing up our plans
another King Brad appeared with roses and diamond ring
in hand he had no mask just an hidden agenda
he took my children to his Mom
to make his other queenjealous and I took the bate
for just one hour both my King and Brad
had chosen he same photo E-mailed among several
to both single men seeking bride at Kiss com.
my lovely picture was the same summer dress I wore with the king I loved
as someone something from above and beyond
mirrored the scene in my life a kind of cause and effect
it showed my
old beloved a simple approach to a woman's heart
and me that the woman he married giving her a diamond ring taking her and son to his Mom was more to make
me jealous too fight for his love
an invisible revolving door had opened up
both to win my lover back
or to lose both Knights
fate life karma G**
had bid the greatest game
of love and twin souls
remained split bleeding
both men found a way to another
woman playing their game
I was sent to worship my Lord Jesus Christ mocking me
beware of Karma
or THINK and get rich and happy
to catch a true king FOCUS
don't take bates, don't settle for new when the heart is taken
by a true love not followed.
My king was found by his mate
and I returned Brads diamond
lesson played leasson learned
Then came the clock ticking
tax collector King Mr Time
he took my hand
paper INK and pen
to script a new
poem
its Winter he said,
HOW DO YOU
WANT ME TO KISS YOU?
and a new revolving door
appeared here at H.P.
~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Copy Rights
ASG/BBA -revised 6/2020.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Can there be any doubt in a mind that knows
In thoughts aloof beyond our scope
Professorial peaks and highs
Paused words and thoughts sublime
Intellect that's a world away
From you and I day to day
Well that's you who ponders and petulates
It's more like ****** and Norman Bates
Because dear proff you're a total ****
A higher education ****
Emeritus wizard oh high priest of thought
Who reads the Times, what else of course!
You graze upon its every word
Like a runny smelly sloppy ****
So there you have it professor ****
A tribute to you the legal ****
No better than any other man
You worthless piece of human spam
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
620
It makes no difference abroad—
The Seasons—fit—the same—
The Mornings blossom into Noons—
And split their Pods of Flame—
Wild flowers—kindle in the Woods—
The Brooks slam—all the Day—
No Black bird bates his Banjo—
For passing Calvary—
Auto da Fe—and Judgment—
Are nothing to the Bee—
His separation from His Rose—
To Him—sums Misery—
2.5k
"Who am I, mother?
Who am I and what do I do?"
–Norman to his mother Norma, "Bates Motel"
And so it goes, a split self - the protagonist defending the darkness as
Bizarre murders satisfy obsessions of a mothers love, taking a
Chefs knife, stabbing victims to death.
Dualistic wars within, a helpless man whose mother taught him of the
"Evils of women," instilling her own moralities of their wickedness.
Fostering the antagonistic personality of his mother
Giving to his incomplete soul a sense of wholeness.
Hidden behind the boy next door innocence, a terrified man
Incarcerated; locked & bolted
Juddering with fear - promising to adhere - set free said to be "cured."
Kleptomania returns; unearthing bodies from their graves, stealing skulls; a comforting souvenir, as
Loving anyone meant destroying them also.
Multiple personalities dominate him
Norman Bates becomes Norma; his mothers persona, crawling into her skin
Originating from their very kiss, kick starting a timeless love affair
Paraphernalia of skins tanned, butchered conquests -keepsakes turned to art & now protecting an un
Quiet mind
Reasons pertaining to mental insanity
Sectioned to institutions
Taxidermy as a young boy fascinated his mind
Urges to **** & fill, feeding euphoric highs, & even
Vertigo.
Women thrilled him; their smell lingered on each garment he kept.
Xenos to himself; who, am I mother?
Youth denied, cried away
Zenith ended; his final resting place behind the bars of Mendona Mental Health Institution, 1984.
© Sia Jane
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Soozie Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Everyday, just like the first day
A grand entrance, with lights and bubbles
Energetic enthusiasm - forget your troubles
She brings times that'll last forever
For a dumb blonde, surprisingly clever
A boundless youth that'll never grow old
One of a kind, broke the mould
Soozie Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Everyday should be her day
Nov 23, 2009
Nov 23, 2009 at 6:42 AM UTC
Downton Abbey’s going off the air.
I’m not through yet, it’s just not fair.
Nothing before that show ever had
That kind of class, that degree of flair.
Life without my weekly Downton
Is too sad and inordinately scary.
What will I do without my frequent fix
Of the elegantly snarky Lady Mary?
And will the feckless Mister Barrow
Ever develop a true human soul?
I am sure this handsome actor fellow
Will never again get such a meaty role.
And the Dowager Duchess herself,
She is not someone easily done with.
She is, after all, tradition incarnate,
And under all that, she’s Maggie Smith.
Bates and his Anna filled my heart
With alternating sorrow and great joy
Almost as much as a lady of nobility
Marrying the handsome chauffer boy.
Dresses and hair lengths shortened
And nobility began to get real jobs.
All this was before ****** flared up
And turned starving folks into a mob.
I never missed that we were seeing
The transition from ‘la belle epoque’.
That time was running out for that
In the worlds ever-changing clock.
It was a yesterday we never knew
We of the age of electric equality.
We got to look inside and see it
In all its grandly overdressed reality.
I had begun to recognize artwork, in
Lovely strolls through baronial halls
And huge family meals at table.
I am sorry that it is over for us all.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
I shutter in the nights moon.
I hide my self way before noon.
I fear, I fear, night will drift me away.
Moon! I gasp! Do you see me,
turn your judging face from me.
I shutter in the moons glow.
I fear! Which way should I go.
I see the morn only in my mind.
Its solemnly burrow within the trees
like a spy. Yet the cannot escape
my keen eye.
Day light! Blasted day light!
Sneeks its glow upon me.
Yet, comforts like a blanket!
But though I shutter in the moon light
And yet, I welcome a
pleasantly new days sun,
Woot! Whoo! Comes my weak calls.
For by days sun I hunger no more.
I just peck lustfully blood from my
fluttering feathers, of nights telltale gore.
I am just a hungry owl,
Whoot! Whoot! I cry.
My beak shutters to softly croon
My calls fierce, again in nights moon,
Alass! Shouts of fear from the mice.
from chipmunks from the baby racoons.
Hide! Hide! Hide!
For I will stalk you in the night.
You shall be my dinner before
day light.
Comes now too, my endless fear.
I float over fierce brown deer
Its mighty weight, yet, of me
it does not flinch,
Yes, even with my nightly, whoot!
Whoot! Over it my eyes gauntlet glare
It just looks me over as if I am not there.
I flutter full, to appear stronger, but though
I am mighty to the new birthed young,
I am desolate to the ones more than I, so strong.
Whoot! Whoot! Whoot! I cry out.
I cry strong and brave,\.
Yet, not a small beast does not fear as it
shows its self to me
They scamper, Ha! Ha! I laugh.
Do they not realize their tiny legs will
not free them from my swooping outcome.
I swoop, Ha! Ha! Silently I am upon them.
I since their heart beats like a drum.
Soon it is over. Their will is no more, but mine.
As I perch way up in this tree
Shutter I do of beasts, but so do they.
For in the woods all too is fair play
For that is nature's contract
guaranteed, to all forest prey.
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
‘Are you all cured now?’
Oh, darling, if only you knew.
(But I’m a monument of
Self-restraint, whittled from
Rotting wood. Ragged shards
Chip off, jagged splints.
The eyes deep wells - an imperfect
Effigy, of sorts. Even now
I’m burning up, and awfully so.
Thick and stifling, the air bates
And provokes me. As the season turns,
I’m patched with canvas sacks -
For a time my steely gaze
Kept the birds away, but now
I’ve gone to seed, flaking
Dry brushwood and sown with doubt.
I grow strangely bulbous
At the centre, starlings nesting
And feeding near my abdomen).
I have questions of my own,
You know, and they all beg answers.
But yours, well, it came to me
Innocently, cut clean and smooth
Like a butter knife. A token
Offering, an afterthought.
I’ve preserved one half our
Peace of mind. My satisfaction,
You see, is a solitary one:
It tastes pungent, sweet, and
Maddeningly powerful.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
"...schizophrenic kisses in a reflection."
Fade in.
My eyes stick to one another like two slices of wax paper with faltering, yet desperately unable to let go of graveyard-shift-love adhesive.
Shifting sides inside. Shifting sides inside.
I stare at my naked body, as water, or something like it, rains from my head to my feet. Warm. Out of control. Gathering by the drain, mixing with the thoughts that won't fall asleep and the daydreams reserved for night.
My eyes are encased by the steam. My lungs filling with water or something like it.
I hope for a classic horror scene or a twist in a melodramatic rom-com. But nothing is funny nor scary and there is no Norman Bates or Meg Ryan. I am not Billy Crystal. I am unrequited love and future fame stemmed by heartbreak and three thousand miles of, "Please let me forget the broken heart I left in a hotel, by the shore, on the east coast, on a pit of dried firewood, in my parents' home, in my bed, in every book I didn't finish, in every sentence I should have finished."
Fade out.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Josh, how many oxycodone did you take?
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:45 AM UTC
Beauty blossoms from tragedy,
Love is born amidst hate,
God calls to you in the darkest depths,
Where you would never expect his presence,
Faith is lost,
Faith is recovered,
Boundaries are penetrated,
The walls fall down.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
I found myself in a record shop
Which got me all to wondering
How these bands all got their names
And wouldn't it be summon
If I went through all the racks
And pulled them randomly
What it is that I would find
To solve this mystery
When this idea hit me
I was standing before the M's
So based upon that simple fact
Is where this journey begins
Mega Death-You must be kidding!
Are theses guys for real?
How big a death do you have to die
Before your still road ****
I decided to jump around
To get the full effect
Can not help but wonder
At what will pop up next
Oh, lookie here...Butt Hole Suffers
I bet their momma's proud
When those guys hang ten
Are they surfing in or surfing out
I came across Badfinger
In an old 70's record bin
I'm telling you the honest truth
I don't care to know where that fingers been
Over yonder a band called The, The
The, The...What?!
Then there's Chumbawamba
Chumbawamba...Whoba?!
This may all sound a bit far fetched
But it's the honest to goodness truthba!
The H's are holding Hoobastank
The closest I can figure
Is that the guys in this band
Hang out with Badfinger
Albino Toilet Boys
Cottage Cheese From The Lips Of Death
My Dog Has Hitlers Brains
Norman Bates And The Shower Heads
Poultry In Motion
Brady Bunch Lawn Mower Massacre
**Roid Rodgers And The Whirling **** Cherries**
Are today's record shop de jour
As I'm leaving out the door
Arms piled high with newly purchased song
I grab the last copy of **Yoko ****
For soothing dinner music later on
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC
She's a maiden of the night
spun curls golden ribbon twined
Men long for her beauty
Her lips a tell tale sign
She sighs within prides whipers
of breath of scotch and water
Yet, she's humbled by the days light
She casts her trust upon none
Huddles in her covers till noon's sun
She was once innocent,
her beauty natural it flowed
Now a maiden of devils honor
she sighs, at night, for the pay
Ah yes, the pay, keeps her alive
She, by night she smiles
her red lips to dazzle her King
She glows beneath the chandeliers
Sensually, she giggles
Then, all glass tips high
Who will win her eye
Cheers the gentlemen all cry
And she smiles-- again
thinking quietly-- she sighs
Yet, beneath her breath---
the words she'd whispered haunt her
"just one more time"
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
My Dear Sister,
Your picture in the drawer
hidden years from my sight
Did you too ever wonder or
think of me in the night
Not one time playing together
Not ever did we share a morsel
Not a park did we ever visit
Nor a letter shared by parcel
My thoughts scatter with now age
of the what-if's and what-evers
My humble hearts love does not
strive in vain to be so clever
What is it that you thought
when they kept us far apart
Was you like I dear sister
so lost alone in the dark
Did you fear the unknows
and wish the comfort of my charm
Did you sister, think of me too
praying that I keep far from harm
Never a fight to call you bad sister
Not one time did I hold your hand
though I think of you often
why haven't I searched of you
through out the land
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Carla Simmons is gonna be a freshman at Bates Academy in two weeks. She was born in Nebraska and lived there until about two months into summer break. She and her family moved there when her parents were offered jobs to be agents for the Teens Acting Agency. Her parents learned how to be agents after about three years of college in Boston before moving to Nebraska shortly after having her older sister, Maddie. Her sister is now a freshman at LA Acting Academy in Los Angeles, California. Carla only lives about an hour and forty-five minutes away. But she still misses her sister as if she were on the other side of the world. Maddie was the only one who understood her and now she wasn’t gonna be there. But Maddie said that as soon as Carla needed her she’d be there in an instant. Her sister has a car and says that as long as she has a way to get there, she will. Carla is really nervous because no one in this town knows anything about her. No one except for her new teachers and the people where her parents work. Carla is so nervous because she knows that she has something that might get her either laughed or stared at if it happens at school. Her parents try to tell her that other kids do it every now and then. But Carla is still worried because she can’t control it. At any moment, even if she had the best night sleep in the world. No matter how early she goes to bed and how late she gets up in the morning. She is always so tired that she will fall asleep anytime at anyplace. It happens every day and there’s nothing she can do about it. Well, she could talk medicine to help with it. But she says that she doesn't think it would do any good. So she just decides to let it be. So now she has to go to school and hope that nothing happens. How will her life turn out? Read the California Life of Carla Simmons and find out.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 2:04 PM UTC
What a lovely Christmas it was.
Hunger full, bellies.
Time for some fun
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
To wake in a smooth sway, I wish I was by the bay.
Fishing poles an boat.
Bates on hooks lines cast out, Little fish big fish.... O how I wish I was by the bay.
I'm listening,
Just to hear her say I am her bae.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall ridge of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.
the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker. the work is comparatively easy, lifting
hundred pound bags, so you can just imagine what
we do other days. in fact, it's fun, especially for
young Bates. we get all white (and our lungs dusty).
on the way to and from the work site I read
in Silent Spring, the chapter against herbicides, gathering
inspiration for the upcoming controversy. in the end
perhaps I'll be fired for refusing to lay down Tordon
beads. realizing this, as I drive with Bates,
I see the dark green conifers and begin to miss them.
Rocks and rattlesnakes, bluebells
and mountain daisies, grasses and cactuses, mahogany
bush, lodgepole pine and quaking aspen, lush forest
and dry sun-tortured mountainside, wind and seed
carried by wind, ants, streams, hummingbird
and hawk, deer, badger, ground squirrel, wolverine.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
No title
no title
words slither
in the mind subtold
like serpents to behold
No title
no title
a choice so unmade
no words in braids
not one word or two
not even just a few
No title
no title
no time to entitle
that title so futile
cast out the title
and leave it untold
but the ending--- contemplate
the insatiable ultimate
story must unfold.
No title
no title
Though no title surfice
the ending tis precise
like a run for the mice
the maze is the challenge
but--- the escape is the goal.
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
I have always noticed
That while this city is filled with females
The library is filled with men
Middle-aged; average, maybe less
Sitting at computers
Afternoons
Weekdays
Today I saw them, for the hundreth time
I finally realized
These men have nowhere else to go
Some of them, maybe
But nowhere they would rather be
They're looking for jobs
To feed their families, themselves
This library is their 9-5
No qualifications necessary
I sit in the Bates Room
Surrounded by green lamps and wood tables
Books line the walls, and the gray clouds do not let the sun shine in
The image of academia, the most scholarly of steeples
A man sits across the room
In a navy hat and gray sweater
Book open in front of him
Exactly halfway through
He dozes off
Time and time again
The security guard wakes him up
People walk in and out
Taking pictures and admiring the architecture
I wonder what he's thinking
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
they came to check on me
room 222
I had tried to enter room 555 earlier
and the guest reported me to the front desk
who had, in turn called the Sheriff's office
the guest stated that she normally wouldn't have called
but I had such a menacing look that it frightened her
almost a look of...evil
it was 3:33am and the hotel was quiet
they knocked but got no answer
they had the front desk call the room
still no answer
they finally got a pass-key from security
and entered the room to find me passed out on the couch
they checked for a pulse
laughed it off and left me to my dreams
all of this save a vague recollection of being at the bar had left me
and what a dream
I was back in the bar
in the midst of a heated argument over religion, God, evil...
it was close to turning violent when a few cops arrived
they arrested me for drunk and disorderly
but let the other guy slide
I hollered and screamed on the way to the station
even threatened their lives
they just laughed...an evil laugh
I passed out before reaching the station
and in the dream I woke up in my cell
and then immediately and in actuality, awoke in my room
it was 5:55am and I wanted to hit the road by 6am
to get a jump on traffic
I got a quick shower, packed and was at the desk in 20 minutes
The desk agent, after wishing me a safe trip
began to apologize for the incident the previous night
and said it happens all the time
I asked what incident she was referring to
she said 'well, going to the wrong room by mistake'
I advised her she must have me confused with another guest
'oh no' she said...'I'm quite sure...room 222, correct?'
yes...but
'and so unfortunate for the 2 officers who took you to your room
and came back when you were found wandering in the halls trying to get into other guestrooms. Well, just a short time later on their very next call they arrested someone else who grabbed one of their guns and shot both of them. Isn't that awful. I forgot to mention...we dropped the charge for the drink you had just ordered before the officers arrived in the bar...so you have a credit of 6.66 on your card. Come see us again Mr Gates.'
That's Bates...
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 6:02 PM UTC
Should I choose to lay your Frame by the Side
And allow my Morsels to take the Reins
Would I be the Monster; On his Confide
The Tanned Diver's Fury consume these Flames
So why on my Courage must I Compete
As my Credentials faint to your compare?
To his Solemn Journal your Kind does meet
As Numbers will bond for Acceptance dare
Such was my Decide. For such Shame I be
A Stranger's Confidence to his Stars remorse
Would ride a Mirage with Saddles complete
In kind to a Fly cause Welts to a Horse.
Still a Bonded Friend you Deserve to be
And make my Marks known as I start to Flee.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
Being 16 and free,
living on the sailboat
with my Dad and brother.
I was rocked to sleep
by the gentle
waves in the marina.
Just being...the wonderful
verb of youth,
Bills came in,
Dad would say, "They can **** us,
but they can't eat us."
We'd laugh and peel
up the Pacific coast Highway
to the track,
Hollywood Park or Santa Anita,
to bet on the horses.
We'd dope the racing form;
Get chili dogs.
Dad would give us
money to bet with.
I saw some of the
best horses ever:
Secretariat
Affirmed
John Henry
Bates Motel
We saw the greatest jockeys too.
William Shoemaker
Liffit Pincay
Eddie D.
Our tiny heroes.
The thunder of the
hooves coming down the
homestretch still echoes
inside of me.
Dad always said, "winners buy dinner, "
but he always paid.
We stopped at this
steak place on the
edge of L.A.
It was dark; they had the best
Fillet Mignon, you cut it
with a spoon.
The sun sank into the blazing
ocean, and with the windows rolled
down, we could taste the salt
in the air.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 9:53 AM UTC
I hope you appreciate him and his presence as much as I do. I hope you find the spaces between his fingers, just like I always wanted to. I hope you know how much I loved him... oh how I loved him. I loved the way he listened to me when I had something to say and I loved how soft spoken he was. He always knew the right words to say... and I hope he finds the most beautiful words to say to you. I hope you find him incredibly **** in that dark navy blue shirt with that silver tie... but know that we had so many memories together and those will never fade. I loved him with every ounce of my being and he never truly saw it. So now... I guess it's time for me to move on. This is the 6th time i've tried to get over him and no other attempts have been successful... i guess if you love something you should let it go right? And if it comes back to you its yours... and if not it was never yours to begin with? What if he comes back but just to check in? Ahh.. probably not. But as you are loving him, just remember that I loved him as much as I could and now loving him has broken me into little pieces. I will always have a spot in my heart for him if he ever decides to come back... make sure he remembers that. Kelsey, i hope you know how much it hurts me to write this. He was my source of happiness for the past 8 months, and i've come to find that it'd be best to let him go. Letting go has proven to be one of the hardest things I've ever tried to withstand. Sometimes I like to wonder what he's doing. Is he playing 2048 like we always used to? Is he entering grades? Is he watching that Bates Motel show that he educated me on one day? The possibilities are endless, and I'm hoping none of them involve you. You might have been wondering why I fell in love with him, and to be honest with you, i'm currently wondering that myself. Out of all people... a band teacher. More specifically, him. It's getting late, so i should stop writing and thinking about him, but I want you to remember this; he was once mine, but i was never his. If you ever find yourself in that type of situation, you will have felt what i felt.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Not this neck of the woods again.
They say Annie Wilkes found you
and brought you here.
You know the face,
but not the name.
Leaving so soon?
You just checked in.
Death is not a parallel move.
Neither is living at the
Love will terrace apartments.
Eye of the needle and thread.
If wolf is at the door,
Guess who's in bed?
Butcher, baker, candlestick maker?
Or is it simply Norman?
Mar 6, 2024
Mar 6, 2024 at 2:10 PM UTC