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Dorothy A Apr 2012
The first time that Evan laid eyes on her, he told himself that he was going to marry her. Embarrassed by his own fantasy, he quickly dismissed that thought as fast as it came to mind, telling himself what an idiot he was. Yet, from time to time, in spite of his reasoning, the thought would invade his skull.

What a dumb idea anyhow! It was just lame, teenage fantasyland! Girls did that kind of junk all the time, saying they were going to be Mrs. So-and-so, and thank God nobody could read his mind to know what he was dreaming up! Like she would marry him! He felt like a dumb ****, great in athletics, but far out of her league. Not even having the courage yet to ask a girl out on a date, and now he was already thinking of marriage! Pathetic! Really! Only a freshman in high school, he felt he should know better, lacking the good common sense his dad always tried to drive into him and had himself.

Ginny Delgado belonged with the smart kids, the brains of the school, although she seemed to stick more by herself, away from any stereotypical clique. Evan had first seen her in his biology class, and he remembered when other students wanted to copy off of her test papers. She never allowed any of that to happen, though, even if it would gain her popularity, false popularity but attention just the same.

It was a surprise to him that Ginny seemed to have few friends. Mostly, girls who were nerdy and smart did not seem very attractive or put together. Ginny seemed to have it all. She was smart and pretty, but she never identified with any of the girls who thought they were hot—and all other girls were not—and so she stood apart as one who shrouded herself in guarded aloofness.

And now here he was at his 20th high school reunion, one he really did not want to attend, but talked himself into going anyway. Perhaps, he could shoot the breeze and run into a few old buddies, his basketball friends. He didn't think that much of Ginny since he graduated from Fillmore, much less anybody from all those years ago. There really wasn’t any reason to reminisce once high school was behind him. School was not misery for Evan Stewart, but it wasn’t a time where everything seemed magical and carefree, not like for some students who looked upon those days as some of the fondest memories of their lives.

It was the class of ’92, and a huge banner displayed across one of the walls read, “Welcome back, class of 1992! Fillmore High School rules!” There was a good turnout, and Evan recognized a lot of people, although there were fewer that he knew by name.  

Sitting under dimly light lights, around a bunch of round tables, Evan now sat with the other alumni, stuck in a crowded hall with music blaring away from the early nineties. He had his overpriced meal. He had his few beers.

But what now?

He was almost bored to death. He was beginning to watch the clock more and more, scanning the room to see if he could possibly find reason to stay longer.  But then something happened that he never expected to happen, never even would have imagined it.

And, suddenly, his heart started to pick up its pace.

Was that her?

Evan thought he had made out the vague shape of a possibly familiar figure, an amazing and sudden surprise. Was that Ginny Delgado?

He wondered if he was seeing things as he intently stared across the room at the shadowy prospective of Ginger Delgado. But with the low amount of lighting, it just might not be her but someone he never even met before. How awkward would what be?

If it was Ginny, she was sitting next to a guy who seemed obnoxious and full of himself. Even from afar, he appeared to be a guy who would be in everyone’s face, with wild hand gestures, talking away and giving nobody else a chance for a word in edgewise.  If that really was Ginny, was that her husband? What a trip that would be! All the sense he once attributed to her would have to have gone out the window, if that were the case.

Sitting at Evan’s table were several of the other guys that were also heavy into high school basketball. Most were married and came with their wives—nobody was alone as Evan was—and now they all tried to act like they were thrilled to be all gathered together to show off their accomplishments. They were all passing around stories of life after high school, after basketball—some with talk of their college days, their wives, their kids, their jobs and careers—plenty of drinks to go around, and some toasting to the good, old days and to even brighter futures ahead. Evan was never married and did not have any children, so he felt he had much less to say. Most of those guys were not even very interesting, even though they tried to make it out that they had achieved so much in their lives. They may have been out of shape and past their prime, but all of them tried to act like they were the same as they were twenty years ago. None of what they all said impressed Evan at all, even though he tried to be interested.

He kept looking at the woman across the room, and the more he looked at her, the more he was convinced he was spot on about her. She had to be Ginny! He should just get up now and have the guts to ask her! But what would she say? Yes, I am Ginny Delgado, and this pushy **** next to me is my husband?

Though he was twenty years older, Evan felt just as awkward and as scared as he did in his freshman Biology class. It was better to just let the issue be. He’d rather save face than look like a total fool.

Suddenly, the unexpected occurred, something that gave Evan’s heart even more of a stir than he initially had when he spied her presence. Was it possible? Ginny now looked like she was starring back at him, as if they had somehow miraculously locked eyes and she had an uncanny ability to notice him back, from that afar off, now being transfixed onto him!  

You’ve really lost it now. What do you think, that she really notices you and remembers you?

Ginny stopped paying attention to the obnoxious man beside her and kept looking in Evan’s direction. She even reached her hand up and gave a little wave out his way.

Timidly, Evan waved back.

Standing up, Ginny started to make her way across the room. The obnoxious guy next to her looked on after her, like he could not believe she had wanted to part company with him. Evan guessed she was not his wife—thank God for that!

No, there is just no way she is coming over to talk to you. Alright, maybe she is. Get a hold of yourself now! Stop acting like a teenager and act like you actually know something about women. Come on, Evan! Get it together! She is coming.

Evan was right. It was Ginny Delgado! But she stopped short of his table to sit a down at the table in front of him, next to another fellow classmate of theirs, a female student that he vaguely remembered, though he did not know her name.

It was almost a relief she did not come to sit with him! Yet the disappointment was equally there. Seeing her more up close, Evan knew for sure it was Ginny. She was still quite pretty, perhaps even more so now, her medium brown hair and her dark purple dress complimenting each other. Not wanting to stare, Evan couldn’t help but to shoot many glances her way, without trying to be too obvious.
          
She smiled a lot, glad to talk to another person that she knew, and probably glad to be away from the guy she was stuck with before. Her eyes sparkled, and Evan never remembered ever seeing her so unguarded. In biology class, she was quiet, like he tended to be. Now she seemed so different, seemingly freer to be herself. Evan rarely saw her smile in high school, but thought she was very serious and sophisticated.

Before long, the DJ was now playing Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. Couples at all tables were making their way to the dance floor. Soon, Ginny was approached by some guy who asked her to join him for a dance. She shook her head, no. Nonchalantly, the man turned to the woman that Ginny knew and asked her. She gladly accepted, said something to Ginny as if to have her permission and understanding, and then took the man’s hand to go to the dance floor. Ginny remained at the table by herself, looking on at the dancers with seemingly little regret that she declined an offer.

This might be your only chance, idiot. Are you going to blow it and be a wuss? Go up to her and tell her that you remember her. Go on! It is your perfect chance. What do you have to lose? If she isn’t interested, just go then. You’ve spent enough time here anyway!

“Hi…Ginny Delgado isn’t it?”

Evan asked as he approached her from behind. He cleared his throat. His voice had sounded so gravelly, as if he hadn’t uttered a single word all night. And his heart was beating a mile a minute, and he swore it must have been pulsating through his shirt. He was glad he put his suit jacket back on, for he was probably sweating like crazy.  

Ginny looked up, seemed to look puzzled, but then smiled a little. “I remember you!” she said with growing enthusiasm on her face. “Oh, but I’m sorry. You are going to have to tell me your name again”.

“Evan Stewart”, he replied. “We were in biology class together Remember? We were sophomores.”

A succession of slow songs was now being played, and Ginny’s friend was enjoying the time with her new dance partner. She certainly was in no hurry to make her way back to the table to rejoin sitting and talking with Ginny.

“Oh, sure! I remember now!” Ginny exclaimed. “Evan Stewart. Of course! You were the tall, shy guy that everyone liked because you knew how to win one for us. You were big into baseball, weren’t you?”

“Well, basketball was my best sport. I liked baseball, too, and track”, he replied humbly. It was amazing! She actually remembered more him than he thought she would!  “

Can I sit down and join you?” he asked, his courage and confidence growing.

“Oh, do!” Ginny replied, eagerly.

He felt like he was in seventh heaven. How cool was this? Sitting with Ginny Delgado? It was a bonus to a fairly descent reunion.

“So what have you been up to for the last twenty years?” Evan asked. His face was flush with embarrassment, as if he was just a guy who happened to luck out, but had no real skill in socializing with a woman he once fantasized about.

Ginny laughed a little, putting her hand up to her mouth as if her response was inappropriate. She responded, “You want a few hours? Or should I just give you a one word response?”

Evan smiled, blushing, as he tried to appear smooth and confident. “A one word response?” he asked.

“Yes. I can say it in one word—roller coaster….oops, that is two words”.

They both just sat there as I Can’t Make You Love Me, by Bonnie Raitt, played on.  

“Yeah…I guess I could say that about my life”, Evan agreed. “Would you like me to get you something from the bar?” he offered. “A coke or a beer?”

Ginny stared out onto the floor, as if she never heard him. “Isn’t it amazing how everyone comes to see the same people they always used to hang out with and still intend to hang out with to this day?” she asked. “How boring and predictable!”

Evan looked at her, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Ginny continued to look out onto the floor, the music now upbeat dance music, and said, “Well, I mean you see all the football heroes all hanging out with each other. The members of the debate team are all huddled together as if they are preparing for the next debate. The cheerleaders, the drama club, the science club geeks…nothing has changed has it?”  

Evan shrugged his shoulders. “I guess that is typical. But that isn’t me. Sure, I saw some of the guys I played ball with, basketball, but the truth is I am not really that interested in hanging out with them.”

Ginny turned to look at him, her hazel eyes intent and solemn. Evan added, “I don’t have any contact with any of them. Nothing against them. I just don’t”.

They looked at each other in the eyes for a while. The silence was awkward. It was as Evan’s watching and waiting for her reply was the cue for Ginny to open up, and open up she did.

“I went to UCLA on a scholarship. I became a history major, world history, American history, women’s history. I never intended to teach, not at first. But it just seemed a good fit for me, and I have had plenty of teaching jobs, junior high school, high school. I moved to Sacramento.  I was briefly married after I got my first real teaching job there.”

Ginny’s eyes glistened. There was a pain in them that seemed locked in deep, not really wanting to expose itself too much, but coming out nonetheless.

Evan listened on, eagerly, so she went on, her gaze towards the dance floor “It did not work out. He cheated. He did it more than once and with more than one woman.  And now that I look back, I can see how wrong it all was, especially after my miscarriage. At first, I was so crushed, and I wanted to try again, for another baby, to try to please him, Jim, my husband. Thank God, I didn’t go on and on with him. I am glad I came back here…..back to Springdale.”

She looked back at Evan. He quickly looked away from her glance, his eyes downcast to the table. She wasn’t kidding. Her life was a roller coaster. He did not know what to say, felt so inadequate.

He decided to just share, in return.

”I was engaged once. It was a long engagement. She was a friend of a friend. Lana was her name. She told me she wanted to be with me, but she just wasn’t ready to make the big leap just right away. Actually, I am kind of glad now that I look back. We both owned our own shops. She was a hair stylist and I owned my own car repair shop, but that was about all we really had in common. I mean not really, even though we both liked sports a lot. We never seemed to agree on anything.”

Like he did, Ginny just listened intently, not attempting to make any reply. Evan added, “She was willing to cut me down in a second. I see that now”.

“Well how do you like that?!”

Evan and Ginny looked up as the woman that Ginny came over to see arrived back from the dance floor. She was walking, hand in hand, with her new found dance partner, fanning herself with her hand and laughing.

“Ginny’s got some company, too!” she exclaimed, beaming at Evan.    

Ginny replied, “Rhonda Flemming, this is Evan Stewart. She used to be Rhonda Boehner back in Fillmore”

Ginny turned to Evan to introduce him to her old classmate. “Evan…Rhonda. Evan, I don’t know if you two ever met each other before when we all went to school”.

“I’m not sure I have, either”, he replied, extending his hand to shake Rhonda’s. Rhonda quickly grabbed hold of his and gave it an overly enthusiastic shake.

“Hi, Evan!” she exclaimed "This handsome man next to me  is Brian. I never knew Brian until he asked me to dance!” she said excitedly. “And I am newly divorced and so is he! How strange is that?”

Brian shook Evan’s hand and then Ginny’s. “How’s it going?” he asked, grinning with embarrassment at Rhonda’s forward frankness.

“Ginny is one of the smartest people”, Rhonda went on to Evan and Brian. “We were once partners in an English class. We had to write a paper about each other. That was so fun in an otherwise booooooring class. Remember, Ginny?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and made a shooing gesture with her hand to convey that Rhonda did not know what she was talking about. “I’m not as smart as anyone ever thought I was. I just worked hard and did my best, but thanks anyway for the compliment” , she said, modestly.  

“Oh, you were, too, Ginny!” Rhonda disagreed. She had a gleeful glint in her eyes. “Always so serious, Ginny Delgado! “

Rhonda grabbed Brian’s hand. “Hey, Brian and I are going to go mingle and walk around and see what trouble we can get into. You two want to join us?  

Ginny and Evan looked at each other as if to say “No way!” Ginny responded, “I think we are just fine here, but thanks”

Rhonda winked at her and then tugged at Brian’s hand. The pair of them went off together, leaving Evan and Ginny to themselves.

Evan smirked at Ginny, and then they both started cracking up with muffled laughter. Evan paused and then burst out laughing again. “Where did you find her?” he asked. A tear actually began to run down his face from laughing so hard, and he quickly wiped it away.

Ginny stopped laughing, tried to compose herself, but busted out with even more laugh
Sarah Treaster Jun 2012
There was a loud knock on the door. Callie froze.
“Hello? Anyone in there? Daryl! Open up!” The muffled voice of Ginny could be heard outside the lab door. Callie hurried into the back room.
“Daryl, your wife is here...” she said worriedly. “What are we going to do??”
“Oh my god. Just... don’t make any noise. If the boss knows we were here, using his lab, he’ll **** us. I know. I’ll call her and tell her that I’m on my way home.” Callie wrung her hands as Daryl paced back and forth, muttering to himself.
“Heyyy, Ginny. Sorry, work kept me out late. I’m on my way home now.” Dayrl spoke into the phone sweetly. “Alright see you there.” He hung up. Callie’s eyes were wide.
“I heard her leave. Let’s get out of here.” Callie grabbed her purse and her sweater off her desk and opened the lab door slowly. Daryl followed quickly behind Callie as they tip toed their way through the dark hallways of the Laboratory.

As Ginny left the lab and was walking back to her car, her phone rang. “Hello?” She listened as Daryl spoke quickly. He sounded very nervous. “Okay, Daryl. I’ll see you at home.” She hung up and stopped. Her husband was acting very strange tonight. She had been knocking on the door to his office and even his boss’s office. What is he up to..this doesn’t feel right. I trust him but... Ginny turned around slowly and made her way back to the dark, tall gray building. If he’s cheating on me I swear... Her mind was running through hundreds of possibilities, her anger and worry growing. Nearing the front door, she removed her heals and crept into the building. She listened carefully before ducking into a room that had a nice view of the elevator and the exit. Peeking through the blinds, she waited and watched.

Callie held Daryl’s hand as they left the elevator, walking towards the front exit. “Okay we’re clear,” Daryl whispered in Callie’s ear. As the young woman walked past Daryl, her rose infused perfume drifted into his face and he shivered as the scent filled his nostrils. Grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him he kissed her passionately. There was a loud choking sound behind them and they turned around suddenly. Ginny was standing in the hallway, eyes wide, fists balled up in shock and anger.
“Wha...what is going on, Daryl?” Her voice shook, and she didn’t take her eyes off of Callie. “Who is she?” Daryl was as stiff as a stone. “Who. Is. She, Daryl. What is going on?”
“Ginny, it’s not what it looks like. I love you. She was forcing me. I promise.” Callie took a step back.
“Excuse me?! Daryl, you started this between us. Do NOT act like you are the innocent one here. You told me you loved me more than your wife. That you were going to leave her... You...you are a *****, ***** liar.” Callie broke into tears and fell to her knees.
“Callie...Ginny! Ginny I don’t know what she’s talking about. I love you. You know I love you.” Daryl stepped towards Ginny. She held up her hands defensively.
“Get away from me, you creep!” Daryl stopped.
“Come on, Ginny. Let’s go home. I love you, please it’s not what it seems. Look, I ******* up. Come on, I’ll get the car.” Daryl backed up slowly, and then headed for the door. A terrible scream was heard and the next moment, Daryl was on the floor, blood spurting everywhere. A large glass paperweight dropped to the floor with a loud thud and a ****** as a corner shattered off. Two pairs of wide eyes stared down at the body silently.

When the police had arrived, Callie and Ginny were sitting together on a bench, shivering in the cold night air. A young girl in her late teens, early twenties was sitting across from them, her eyes dry. “Ladies, may I ask what happened here? There’s a man in there, dead. Which one of you did this?” A policeman came up to the women with a pencil and a paper pad.
The young girl looked up. “I killed him.” The girl stood up. “He’s been leading three different lives. One with me, my mother, and my little brother in Arlington. I knew about all of them. I followed him a lot. I found him leading one with her, that lady there.” She held up a finger at Ginny. “And then he was having an affair with her.” She moved her finger to Callie. “I couldn’t deal with it anymore. He was a greedy, selfish *******. I did it. I killed Daryl Stevenson. I killed my father.”
King tree of life hello
I'm full of dew
dripping willow me for you
Two virtual
emperors, like you
write deep sensual ink.
Striking similarities to yours;
one is owned by his wife
I ignite a phantom fate spark.
Another is one way street.
Yes I am born a self existing
yellow star, a curse a blessing.
Portal to heaven by birth chart.
But you were bridge, something
in the way you brew my wine.
Fiery red gold key my six-nine.
Then silence, gap, abyss.
Into your own ginny you are!
No longer into mine!
Your ginny of
yesterday.
~~~~~~~~~~
Me and Mrs Andrews-k
https://youtu.be/HV4Jd3muGs8
Liam C Calhoun Aug 2015
I mangled my tooth,
     Munching on the moon,
     Whilst the war raged forth.

I smirked something, “sinister,”
     Later Tuesday; lights on,
     And Ginny’d lay waiting.

I’d shower guilt,
     And a 2:00 AM excuse, now
     Wednesday, so clogged the drain.

I’d know defeat,
     Come morning, hair, every strand swept,
     Nigh and not a piece left for me.
I was a reckless youth, I was a fool and I'd offer 100 apologies if I could.
Anoushka Jain Dec 2014
Hermione taught me,
Never dumb down.
Prim whispered,
It's Okay to fall down.
Ginny smiled,
Don't stop loving, He'll come around.

Katniss screamed,
Seize the fire.
The doctor whispered,
Rose Tyler-

Haymitch scorned,
The people need to be raised!
Snape replied,
Always.

Okay, so we conflict.
Our thoughts fight.
But whichever fandom we follow,
As a fangirl, we unite.
Books have been the reason of many people's survival, today. So, as a fangirl, here's a tribute to books.
Rudolph Musngi Jun 2014
Up and down, left and right, salt and pepper
black and white, twist and shout, pen and paper
North and south, pork and beans, chips and dip
*** and coke, q and u, paper and clip

Bacon and eggs, back and forth, biscuits and teas
Remote and TV, a pod with two peas
Yin and Yang, hand and glove, bread and butter,
hand and foot, mac and cheese, land and water

Abott and Costello, Tom and Jerry
Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny
Mutt and Jeff, Jack and Jill, Holmes and Watson
Jobs and Wozniak, Delilah and Samson

Tom and Huck, J and K, Tarzan and Jane
Frodo and Sam, Clark Kent and Lois Lane
Batman and Robin, Romeo and Juliet
Hansel and Gretel, Browning and Barret

There are many things that go together
But nothing will ever be as clever
Nothing will ever be as perfect, too
than my favorite pair called me and you.
http://rudolphmusngi.com/things-that-go-together/
Karijinbba Dec 2018
I could say it to his face
all I felt like calling him
good or bad and he smiled
and immediatly I purred.
We even made a wtitten promise
of such enviable love
yet, we didn't put it in practice.

All stressed a Mom deceived battered threatened,
I parrot phrased to him his evil woman's cursing my MOM birthing me, and I lost him
He forgot his old love letter
free speech oath to me.

My ancient king of hearts continued brewing my twenty year old wine in a barrel of heartache and pain leaving me behind amnesic, and death calm.

My Angel ran brewing an older woman's wine
in his bed married to her
wedding band
and in cellar her wine next to mine.
Running from her many a time leaving her with a cold marriage contract handy
while his heart and brain remained ever ONE with mine.

As her personal lubricant got dryer and dryer it was harder for my beloved to be intimate with the ugliest lawliar twoface snake
surgically enhensed
drug user insignificant other called wife.
And as her hatred malice greed and jealousy blew, out of proportion so did her nasty brew on Outer Limits Twilight Zone
along with a breach of his trust
in her,
spoiling her own brewing wine to a nasty bitter moldy vinagar.
Yet to him all her potions remained ever secret
hidden behind smc sunflower smile, daughters and son used
to blindfold her selfish agenda.

Ever so covertly taunting cursing showing hate to me and my children was her banner.
Smc threatened us
by e-mails behind his back.

Blindfolded unoticed all went 
his alcoholic stuppor was foe.

No justice he could brew on either of us yet my wine remained gold fit for kings
but susy viper apropriated it as her own
killing our free will dreams and promises of old.
My wine brewing pure gold
and his other woman smc's covertly brewing hatred where he held her in high regard.
There can't be peace without justice! BEGIN HERE!
if you ask where!
No peace he bestowed upon
his death calm, silenced slandered beloved Karijinbba!
he left behind...Me

Assassination of character is a method lawliars use to
succeed treachery stealing my perfectly aged wine and man

fooling my weary king of hearts
Jpcrdd

I felt so distant and small so,
I let his black hole crooked seol stich anchored to his drunken down free will and bank accounts
JUST HAVE IT ALL!

My dearest beloved deserved that ugly viper for being such a low self esteem coward!
blind blndfolded drunk *****.

And I changed my name to
"Amazing Grace"
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelina San-Gutier..is my birth namefor short
(April, 16 10;30 AM.)
~ my Perupecha tribe, Mex~
and my wings Bba=Ginny
5-19 -legally given by a judge
as a witness protection's new identity (not that I was hiding any deceptions.)
~~~~~
By; Karijinbba
All R. R. a memoir excerpt.
Have you been been so heartbroken by the insensitivity of the one you loved that you rejected who you loved the most in this life??

Have you ever been hurt so deeply that you deprived the object of your devotion of everything they ever loved the most to gain in you and from you?
It happensnto passinate firely lovers
like us..but I never **** to hurt anyone.
I LOVE LIFE!
if I didn't I would be
six feet under earlier.
Ryan Bowdish Jul 2013
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
Female names are beautiful. Poetry on their own.
Lithium Jun 2015
Rage Against the dying light
Stand strong please
Grip with all your might
Do not leave us
I hear Gods plan
I will save you
I promise I can.
For a loved one who fell in the fight to ALS.
XIII Apr 2015
Walk into that crowd
Walk into Hogwarts
Some people wearing formal
A lot in black

But you cannot find Ginevra Weasley
Although you were Harry
Maybe because you've already lost your wand
Or because Ginny could've given you a heart attack
Sophie Herzing Oct 2013
Shivering fingers, cradling a cold clay bowl
with dull roses surrounding the rim.
A Klondike bar cut like a grid on a paper towel.
My grandma used to let me eat one in the living room
"careful of the carpet"
on her yellow couches covered with sticky plastic.
She would play the Elvis Presley Christmas album,
To Ginny written in black sharpie on the sleeve
with a Love always, Mom underneath,
over and over again
while she hung bulbs of wood on the bottom branches
so her Welsh Corgi wouldn't break them with his paws.

Slate slabs with handprints
in purple paint every year for the holiday.
She'd set death aside in a coffin ashtray
to kiss my cheek.
Presley played in the background.

She'd rock
on the front porch in white wicker
coughing into the lid of a Pepsi can
until she'd catch me pressing my nose against the door glass,
tell me to turn around and sit on the couch.
It was too cold for me.
She'd only be a minute.

When we played, I'd hide between the two baskets
in the closet that held her hair products.
I could count all the bottles three times each
before she'd say she was too tired,
put on her coat, grab a white box, and hit play.
I always hated that album.
Lori Carlson Nov 2010
Hands busily stitch patterns in and out,
five sets on each side of a long board.
I, with the youngest hands, watch and listen
with intent to the elder women of my family.

Janie now has her last child; no boys to carry
the family line on to the next generation.
Tom, like his father's father before him,
has survived his first year of the Marines.
Ginny has divorced again, the third time,
with the fourth child for Aunt Gladys to raise.

Their hands, experienced in fine stitchery,
never skip a line, lightly sketched upon satin.
Their eyes rarely know what their hands do.
Like instincts of childbirthing, these women know
when to say this square has had all its stitches,
and then move on the next one.

Their lives are like that, moving in and out,
slowly building one link to another,
holding their children to them with fine thread.
© 1997,  Iona Nerissa

All poetry under the names Lori Carlson or Iona Nerissa are the sole property of Lori Carlson.
Please seek permission before using any of my writings.
~Lori Carlson~
Styles Jul 2014
I treat beef like lions in, the Ramada inn, dying to sign into the luncheon,
go to work,
     I punch in,
these beefcakez, is munchkins, my dough nuts, and bunch Keens.
We Brady Bunch,
and Punch like Kens -sheens.
we punching through functions
like a bunch of alienss at the Days Inns working equations off all kinds of ocassions, mostly Caucasian, facials so amazing, when their facebook, if they face them..I page in,and they page Kim, to let him, know that I'm waiting; the appointment meant, we dating, no promo, so stop your hating. take a selfy in the ****, stop ur waiting. ctrl, alt, delete. there's no.escaping- staple the email to your upper lip, recycle trash every other weak in. ***. Ginny, run, Freddy creeping. slow, creepy walk, Jason mask out the Lake Inn, my neighbors laughed, Chevy chasing there ***, child's play with a ****** hockey mask, i'm up to task. dog had a limp,so I made him part of the cast! Bruce Lee kicked, thier ******* ***, I'm talking full body cast.
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Dragona Radic hated her name for as long as she could remember. So obviously different than the Mary Butlers, and Ginny Gormans she grew up with in Flavor Town. Even Myrtle Feinstein seemed to be given a more applicable name to live in Flavor Town to Dragona’s mindset. Life was hard for Dragona in Flavor Town. Especially, when at twelve she began to grow a moustache. Living in Flavor Town wasn’t easy for anyone really, but to Dragona it was shear torture. Susie Choo became her best friend for more reasons of default than likeability. Being the only other girl with as much a non-conformable name as Dragona, Susie Choo’s distaste for her was equal. Still, Dragona Radic and Susie Choo formed an alliance, for what else were they to do living in Flavor Town. Flavor Town was a brand of the most delightful 56 flavors of ice-cream ever made, as well as the name of their hometown. You would think in Flavor Town diversity would be celebrated as much as variety. This sadly was not so. In America, you can find all 56 flavors of Flavor Town’s delectable frozen concoctions at any Buck Shops Here grocery outlets. Yet, little may you know of the atrocities occurring in Flavor Town, and what Dragona Radic and Susie Choo were about to do about it?
c Apr 2018
Ask me what kind of **** I am into
And I will take you on a magical journey
To fanfiction dot com backslash Harry Potter backslash NC17

What turns me on is Ginny Weasely in the restricted section
With her skirt hiked up;
Sirius Black in a secret passage way,
Solemnly swearing that he is up to no good;
And Draco Malfoy in the room of requirement slithering in to my Chamber of Secrets;
I am an unapologetic consumer of all things Potterotica,

And the sexiest part
Is not the way Cho Chang rides that broomstick
Or the sounds of Myrtle moaning,
The sexiest part is knowing
That they are part of a bigger story;

That they exist beyond eight minutes in ***** ***** *******,
That their kegels are not the strongest thing about them,
And still I am told
That my **** is ‘unrealistic’.

Not quite as ****** as flashing ads saying 'just turned 18’
So you can fantasize about ******* the youngest girl you won’t go to jail for.
I’m told that my **** isn’t quite as lifelike
As a room full of lesbians begging for ****,
Told that this is what is supposed to turn me on.

Don’t you give me raw meat
And tell me it is nourishment,
I know a slaughterhouse when I see one.

It looks like 24/7 live streaming
Reminding me that men are going to **** me whether I like it or not,
That there is one use for my mouth and it is not speaking,
That a man is at his most powerful when he’s got a woman by the hair.

The first time a man I loved held me by the wrists
And called me a *****
I did not think 'run’,
I thought 'this is just like the movies’

I know a slaughterhouse when I see one.
It looks like websites and seminars teaching you how to **** more *******,
Looks like fifteen-year-old boys bullied for being virgins,
It looks like the man who did not flinch
When I said stop and he heard 'try harder’.

If you play-act at butchery long enough
You grow used to the sounds of screaming,
It is just a side effect of industry;
Everything gets cut into small, marketable pieces.
I will not practice ****** hands
I will not make believe dissected women,

My *** cannot be packaged
My *** is magic
It is part of a bigger story
I am whole
I exist when you are not ******* me
And I will not be cut into pieces any more.
I love throwing out my fave poems here!

Brenna Twohy is a poet and performer from Portland, Oregon. She is a two-time Portland City Slam Champion and was the 2014 representative to the Individual World Poetry Slam. (taken from her Google page). She is a part of Button Poetry collective as well. Check out this poem and more on YouTube (just type in the poem title). It is muuuch more riveting of a write when she speaks it,
R B M Nov 2019
You are the Marshmallow to my Lilipad (How I Met Your Mother’s cutest couple)
You are the Jim to my Pam (The Office’s cutest couple)
You are the Gilbert to my Anne (Anne of Green Gables cutest couple)
You are the Harry to my Ginny (Harry Potter’s cutest couple)
You are the Hans to my Leia (Star Wars’ cutest couple)
You are
mine.
Karijinbba Sep 2021
in Tom Jones rocks on stage.
You rock bestest longest,
at Taj-Mahal peoney cave
I swear I only see you;
my rocking sensually!
lover rock dancing your
fifteen pumps into
our heavenly midsts
and back or make it last
****** fifteen times four
nutty Third Rate Romance
Rock me all night long.
lay I sip your willow tea
oh tea of me make too..
I'm in love with your mind
your syllhuette ink heart
Rock me at Ginny baby inn
I grant your every wish!

Oh sweet lover mine
conceived in sacred
temple paradisical womb
ruler king God's named you.
Crafted above endowed
in gold elastic generous thread,
the measure of your pride,
bestest among all kings,
amongst mortal men.
even Angels envy you.

Women sigh with just one look!
You walk a sway unique
istoic celibate you chase me
I'm sinner in your courts
my veil of chastity falters.
come fill my buttercup.
Loving you mornings long
days long the nights long.
my breakfast in bed you
I long for you.
my Tam Tam my base drum
glued to me evermore.
~~~
By; Karijinbba
@t Mr and Mrs Andrews
https://youtu.be/Au6c-Xtab4Q
Eric the Red Feb 2018
Single at 40
Welcome to the lurid world
Monica
Kay
Lecia
‘It’s pronounced Leesha’
She says
FWB
Pictures
Texts
‘Can you come over now?’
Veronica
Ginny
Stacy
38
32
35
41
29
All ages
Who’s number is that?
‘What are you doing right now?’
NSA
‘You want to go to a movie sometime?’ I ask.
She looks at me funny
‘I don’t have time for a movie. Same time tomorrow?’

I have just one question for all:
Where were you when I was 17?!
Pass the bread, pass the peas, pass the butter, if you please
Pass the food that we don't like, chicken cacciatore, umm, what a delight
Pass the grapes, red wine is best, baked macaroni pasta put to the test
Pass the napkins for our mess, and pass the blessings for our guests
Pass the salt and the pepper, parmesan cheese shaker, now that's clever!
Pass the jokes, and the coffee, Luisa's strawberry shortcake tarts are sweet and salty
Pass the convo, pass the events, stories of grandparents in their teens
Pass the much- needed laugh, to Uncle Joey who's always mad, maybe later he can pass it back
Pass the good times, and the bad,
Although some memories are sad
Pass the plates, all the dishes, maybe Aunt Ginny will do the dishes
Pass the times we ate so late; Pops took us out for a pizza date
Pass the drama, pass the cries, pass by all the goodbyes
Pass the hugs and the kisses, past loved ones we truly miss
Pass the contacts, emails and numbers, pass the Twitter, snapchats and Tik Tok for the younger ones
Past the time for us to leave, passing more kisses in disbelief
Pass the coatrack near the door, dinner with family is never a chore
Never more, we know that time will pass again, for us to be together in a family way
CJ Sutherland Dec 2023
Do we Ask The Silence Questions?

What is an acceptable quality of life?
Birth Defects;
Conjoined twins
Cerebral palsy
Down syndrome
Blind, Deft
Cleft palate
Childhood Cancer

At what point do we ask?
Are we Humans playing god?
Test tube baby acceptable
Just because we can
does it mean we should?

We are looking for the answers!

We need to see our way clear
Corrective lenses, Glasses
Cataract surgery
Retinal detachment,
Blind

Listening for hard truth, what will we find?

Hearing aids
Ringing in your ears
Deft

People speaking without hearing a sound


At what point do we ask?
What constitutes Contributing to life?

When is a person a Burden to society?

When limited Movement is painful;We Stop
Arthritis
Tingling, Numbness
Neuropathy
Degenerative disc disease
Fused vertebrae surgery
Paralyzed from the neck down
Bedridden

We Elect Surgery to regain mobility

Our desire for a better quality of life

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome
Total Knee Replacements
Hip Replacements
Physical Therapy
Walkers, wheelchairs, braces,

Losing Control, Fighting for your life!

Alzheimer’s
Schizophrenic
Bipolar
INSANE
At what point do we ask?

Who determines when a person is
Unable to comprehend life?

CANCER The “C Word “

At what point do we ask?
When the pain is unbearable?
Hang on, orLet Go!
Chemo therapy
Body rejecting medication
Breast Cancer, cervical cancer
Reconstructive augmentation

Allergies, coughing, asthma, COPD
Oxygen therapy  
Ventilator assisted breathing

At what point do we ask?
When Health Situations Demands Actions !

Taking stock Emotionally
Get your Affairs in order

Heart Attack
Pace maker, regulator, stent
Dialysis
Kidney failure
Kidney transplant
***** transplant
Metal plate in your head
Artificial limbs

At what point do we ask?
When do you pull the plug?
Coma
Brain dead
life support
Resuscitate
DNR do not resuscitate

At what point Do we ask
Are we NO LONGER  HUMAN
Are we creating A new species?

Where in your body does your Soul reside?

At what point do we ask?
When is this action acceptable?
Assisted suicide, Dr. Kevorkian
Hospice care is not life Care
Giving Up, Choosing to Die

At what point do we ask?
Is this acceptable?
  Even if we were healthy our entire life, the world is stacked against us!
Breathing, eating ingesting poison!

GMO, Genetically modified food
What are they doing to our body?
Chlorine 200+ chemicals in our water
Poisonous gases chemicals (chem) trails
at what point do we ask?
WHY?
Dr’s treat the symptoms But
Rarely look for The medical condition
Etiology unknown
Pill's that ****, ineffective treatment
The side affects are worse than the cure
Untested not approved Shots
Fake plan-demic Human  ginny pigs

At what point do we ask?
Will we ever know the long term effects.
The damage done To our bodies
Human experiments Without our Consent full understanding ,knowledge
Are Eugenic at play.?

We engage in conversations considering
the best possible solutions
However
There are Definitely more
Questions then answers!

At What Point Do we ask?
Where do we go from here?
Clara Mar 2022
The sun is tired, and the man on the moon rises just in time for his job. He does his tricks and cranks up the lever until the astronomical body beneath his feet rises up and replaces the morning star. Once again, the world is under his dim and sentimental glow.

The people below are turning their lights on, mimicking his surroundings. Oddly enough, every star that surrounds him has a painted name-- each seemed to be owned by a lost soul.

Thousands of people talk to the moon every night, each one full of dreams and wishes. Little do they know that the moon is not a ginny nor a fairy. The moon is simply a light. No more, no less than the lamps in their nightstands.

But the man doesn't mind. He listens to all the stories that he can in a single night. And sometimes, when the night is long, he lies on his back, closes his eyes, and pretends to be a traveler. And the moon is his backpack filled with the stories of the human universe.

A child cries, and the man listens. He seems to be talking about a friend who has fallen into an eternal slumber. He told the moon stories of their adventure each night he couldn't sleep. The child can't help but wonder if his friend could also see a moon in his dreams... If his friend ever thought of talking about him too.

The man in the moon responds but whispers to himself, "In his sleep, he lives a life brighter than those that surround him. The moon will rise as long as the oceans continue to wave, and the birds continue to sing."

As the child grew up, he began to talk to the moon less. On his last visit, the child decided to unhook his anchor. Then after a few moments, he finally decided to sail. The man in the moon listens to the child's last farewell.

"There is a void in my heart where the world revolves just like how it used to... Where the sea would rise and fall in accordance to the moon, where my friend awakes to identify his name in the cosmos."

The man on the moon bids his goodbye. He watched the people below and smiled. He turns to the star on his right and says, "Heaven will never get tired of waiting for good souls."

The star beamed and replied, "I have found my place in the cosmos. Thank you for remembering me."

It is now time for the sun to wake up and do its job. The man in the moon then stood up and walked to his spot. He cranked down the lever, and the moon slowly descended back to its dark place-- a place where secrets glowed in its brightest.
The short story is written in 2019 as an entry to a zine in a college organization. It was written right after our dog & best friend, Jazz died.
Bobby Copeland Jan 2020
Of course it's three a.m. again--
Time long encircled in the blues--
And grateful for the company
I pull out old shellacs;
Dinah, Eartha, Big Maybelle,
Then Tina, early blues with Ike
On a long playing record, songs by
Little Walter, Blues Boy King,
Songs Ginny used to sing
At juke joints in northwest Tennessee,
Before she made her way out west,
Vegas and L.A., when cheap scotch at midnight was enough.
And now, somehow, pure grain and Percocet
Have stopped her, some say accidentally.
Man trouble too,
Horn players with habits,
Car dealers and one evangelist,
Backslidden but believing,
Tapped now to speak well,
Ignore vices and regrets.

— The End —