Mona Lisa clowned
Mona Lisa frowned
Lynda said she got browned
Lynda rolling, toiling, gliding
Hitting a meeting in town.

Riding, jammin, bamming
Moonlight in the lightning
Lynda cramming, driving
Blasting to the beat...

Badass ***** hitting, smashing
Thundering in recovery
You don't do Lynda,
Maybe or
Maybe not....Dummy

I don’t like the beach. And I don’t like sand in my sheets or salt in my water.
I don’t like crowded places full of half naked strangers or burnt skin peeling off of my neck. I’ve felt this way for quite some time, but my grandma begged to differ.

She had sea shells decorating hallways, and she had paintings in every room. Next to pictures of me and my cousins and in frames on guest bed night stands. She had closets jam packed with beach towels and drawers of polka dot swim suits. And she had a smile on her face when me and my cousins would reach the shore and finally get the guts to jump in.
I don’t like the beach, and If you knew, that would make you sad, but I swear to god that this time I enjoyed the beach in a different way.
                        

                        


The sun was just rising, and the wind was cool and calm, and the only people beside me were the ones I truly loved. We got to the shore in silence and mom wrote "Lynda" in the sand. Then She took out the box that was painted lightly with seagulls and blue waves. And from the box she put her ashes across her sand-written name, and we watched in silence and acceptance as the waves took her away.

My son Colton Ross Barrera
has been missing since Sept. 26, 2008.
I bet you can imagine how many times
I have typed that sentence...
I am finally reaching out to another mom,
perhaps for my own sanity...
I have had so many ppl say to me,
"oh Lynda, I am so sorry, I just can't imagine what you are going through"
as I would never have been able to imagine all this myself.
I had a slight interest in missing person cases in the past
but it was just another news story in my mind
and the ppl weren't real,
not until it hit home
and it was MY son that went missing...
I have been angry at God
and I have gone through all the stages of grief
and still go back and forth on those steps.
I remember when he 1st went missing
I made 50-75 phone calls a day.
now the phone is quiet
and there is no one left to call.
The police have put his file in a folder
and have labeled him,
not as handsome,
or quirky
or intelligent,
but he is stamped
with the label of COLD CASE.
I quit going to church
because I felt that if anyone knew where my son was,
they would tell me
and how could God be so cruel
and withhold such vital information from me?
I almost envy people that know
when where and how their child passed away
because they have a tiny piece of real estate to go to
and leave flowers
and have closure,
but I am also relieved
that not having a gravestone
at a cemetery plot to visit
still gives me hope that he is still alive.
In this modern day of internet,
I have his facebook account page
to look at
pictures of him
in which he never ages
and words written by him
which I wish I would have read
long before he went missing.
Time on a calendar
is marked
according to B.C. and A.D.
due to the life and death of Jesus.
I mark occasions
by how old Colton was at any given time--
"That re-run of Catdog came out in 2001? Colton was 11"
It is so bitter sweet
to watch Colton's younger brother grow up
and do some of the same mannerisms
as he did at that age.
My older son's have placed blame
and anger on me
and in some ways,
rightly so,
at my lack pf parenting
and causing their brother to go missing
and that has put a big chasm
in our relationship.
I suppose unless publishers
ever come out with a
"How to handle it when your child disappears and just seems to fall off the face of the planet, for dummies" book,
I will rely on the support
and guidance of other's who are traveling down this path with me.

Still waters

14 hours ago · Like
..




Deep currents

Troubled thoughts

Restless nights

Sleepless days

She survives

Stronger wiser

From the fire

Salina
The Nomad arrived
Cold, windy
Waiting on a ride.

Nine hours later
Waiting like a gator
Lynda arrived,
Train wreck, heart ❤ ache,
The Knight decided to ride.

Belly of the Beast.
The gangstA *** forward,
So all could survive.
Minues to halve,
Hours to days,.
Played, lonely moonless nights,
The Traveler prayed.

And the Yellow Brick Road opened
With the sound of a laugh,
Oz came into being,
When Mona Lisa smiled....

"Janice, I sat next to you in Latin.
We were sophomores.
You were a cheerleader
but smart too.
The excitement was unbearable
(Cicero; the shape of your sweater . . . ).
I asked you to play tennis."
"You did never."
"Yes, I did."
"I suppose I didn't want to get sweaty."
"So then you would have gone with me to a movie?"
"No, I doubt it. . . . I was a brat."
"You were divine.
I wrote a poem for you in Latin."
  
"Lynda, we met at The Three Penny Opera.
You were an usher.
I was a college student; you were in high school."
"Yes, a 'townie'."
"I put my arm around you.
I stroked your hair.
When I tried to kiss you on the forehead our noses collided."
"I was expecting a lip kiss."
"It was a powerful attraction,
but it wouldn't have worked."
"No, we could have made great love,
but it wouldn't have lasted."
  
"Gina, you lived on that 'hippie farm'
at the edge of town.
I was the 'knowing elder',
the one who'd worked on a real farm.
You were so high-energy, so alluring.
Guys flocked to you:
William and Michael; Davy, back home;
sexually involved with all of them."
"Not Michael really."
"You seduced me--
I think you wanted to make William jealous--
not that I was unwilling. . . .
I was, however, impotent."
"I wanted adventure and, yes, I suppose I did want to make
       William jealous."
"Our intimacy awakened me.
I realized what I'd been missing.
Your rejection was devastating."
"I didn't mean to hurt you.
I didn't know you were so fragile."
  
"Carla, I loved you in your apartment.
It was all softness and warmth;
**** carpet, soft bed,
Carole King on the stereo. . . .
We slept together, showered together."
"I really listened to Carole King?"
"Your parents were divorcing.
You didn't have time for a relationship."
"I don't think I was ready."
"Just as I was overcoming my impotency. . . ."
  
"Sarah, I loved you on a camping trip.
We kissed at dusk in the Great Smoky Mountains."
"I remember."
"I felt so connected--
physically, intellectually, emotionally.
You smiled with your whole face, with your whole being.
I wanted to be with you steadily.
You said it wouldn't work.
I guess you were right:
I couldn't love someone who couldn't love me completely.
When we parted,
I cried uncontrollably."
"Yes,
I remember."

TinMan asked a question,
Lynda didn't even know.
OZ was the answer,
The Wizard didn't even slow.

*****, *****, detox in the blend,,
Scratching, retching, loathing, mashing.
Crawling out of her skin....
4 days, 5 days,
When would the pain ever end!!!

Mindless, braless, hating to the end
The disease trying, fighting,
The TinMan never giving in.
Listening praying writing reading,
Mona Lisa  bathing, breathing, eating,
Smiling

im not in any hurry to remarry and
i didnt mind being his wife
but i bet if she's half as insecure
possessive and
jealous as i have heard
it has got to burn her up inside.
in the beginning i was so hurt and
i would tell how my husband left me
for his step sister and
everyone would say eeew sick
but i know its not like they were raised together.  
he left me on mar 19 2012 and
i will never forget it
i got on my knees and
losing any pride and
dignity i had
i  BEGGED him to stay
but he brought his mommy with him
so i wouldnt make a scene
i asked him to at least smoke a cig with me and
he did and
i offered to give him a break
i told him the house would be spotless and
i would be whatever kind of wife he needed
but when he looked at me with sad eyes and
said please Lynda let me go,
i knew he had done enough time locked up and
i couldnt be another person to take away his freedom.  
then for 18 1/2 days i went to bed and
cried and
did not get out of bed to eat or *** or anything.
my world was turned upside down by him
FOR THE SECOND TIME
fool me once shame on you, fool me twice....lol
but the one thing i have known after the hurt left is that i truly want him to be happy.  
He gave me some of my all time best memories
but also gave me the worst times i had ever experienced.  
my whole family disowned me for taking him back
for almost 3 yrs,
they just now have taken me back into the family and
will speak to me.  
i will always love him,
he was the soulmate i literally spent my whole life looking for,
but it cost me a lot of heartache to be with him.  
i am not the same person as that girl he met in the bar
wearing daisy duke short shorts
pain changes people...and
i guess life is too short,
mom's die,
children go missing and
vanish with out a trace and
husbands come home in the middle of the day and
move out and
with out tell ya why and
you never see them again

I have never had a Valentine, my dear
But if I could have one, I would choose you
2020 was the strangest of years
But it was my favourite, because I met you.

Do you remember our first meeting?
You squeezed too much sanitizer on my hands
Then rubbed them with yours ever so sweetly
My heart didn’t stand a chance.

That June night, I ascended thirteen storeys
And discovered my new favourite view;
Your face that I can’t help adoring
And your eyes of oasis blue.

We spend evenings on your couch watching The Chase
Seeing how many questions we can answer
Followed by Inbetweeners or First Dates
Punctuated by the sound of our laughter.

These are my favourite kind of nights
But then again, any time of day feels special with you
And I’m so happy that you’re mine
And I hope that makes you happy too.

You concoct delicious dishes in your kitchen
Pastas, curries and casseroles
And I don’t believe you that you’re winging it
Because I always empty my bowl.

We share a love of music,
reading and laughing at memes
But my love for these is nothing
Compared to how you make me feel.

Will you be my Valentine every day
If I finally finish this poem?
I just need one more line to say
You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.

and at the end of this session, i'm going to gorge on homemade banana cake, and a glass of milk; hmm, so that's that.

hannah hallysem, chloe vevrier, rosalia verne, dakota skye, nadine jansen, milena d., katrina jade, alison tyler, sasha foxxx, noelle easton, shay fox, kourtney kane, aletta ocean, lexi belle, aria giovanni, maritza mendez, silvia loret, laura lion, ashley graham, latex lucy, alexis texas,  dana dearmond, abella danger, karmen karma, jezebelle bond, keisha grey, karmen grey, jelena jensen, carmen croft, aneta buena, ines cudna, ewa sonnet, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, karolina pliskova, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, rooney mara, claire forlani, kelley scarlett, malina may, amirah adara, phoenix marie, foxy di., kenya lust, kiera winters, christy mack, paige delight, faith nelson, darya klishina, sand morris, alysha newman, silvia saint, adele stephens, deven davis, ewa wyrwal, tanya song, synn wagner, christina lucci, hunter leigh, lynda leigh, gemma atkinson, mulani rivera, sarah harding...
        
   all those "expectations" mingling with a *babuska...
gotta have a babuska after a list like that...
      looks nice, doesn't it?
         see how honest other people can become...
      that's as honest as you're going to get:
i'm hardly an out-of-the-closet gay / intellectual...
and this is hardly the most desireds genetical "encyclopedia"
worth reciting...
      but at least there's no closet,
and certainly no skeleton in it...
  to be honest, i'd love to see a compendium of
a woman's favourite *****,
   oh sure, i can switch off...
    i just start thinking about cow *******
and milk sacks; not that hard;
  ugh... furr... itchy... stroking a cow is like
scratching your skin after the barbers...
milking a cow: ah... another subject
of investigation...
                        why do men not bother being
breast-fed, to out-compete the babe?
seems a shame to leave a vacuum for
capitalism to not investigate, don't you think?

I miss you greeting me at your door
With the hug I’ve longed for
I miss you resting your head against my chest
Checking my aftershave, does it pass your sniff test?

I miss you concocting something delicious
While I sneak in to distract you in the kitchen
I miss your chilli you saved with tinned tomatoes
And your pasta with excessive pesto.

I miss you rolling your eyes at my bad jokes
Or me pretending that I’ve stole your nose
And you saying “don’t be a freak all your life"
Well, for you I promise to try.

I may be in isolation
And yes, I’m missing you
I may be in isolation
But my heart is always with you.

I never intended to fall
Love is an accident I became prone to
On the night I met you.
Vividly I remember our first meeting
Eyes of blue making oceans green with envy
Looking into them gives a glimpse of  heaven
Your smile has taken me there already.
Now see what enriches my existence;
Delicious and exquisite kisses
And your voice in my ears!

What's the big deal?
So I called you the wrong name.
But the thrill was there.
Which was what we both were after.

I apologized.
Said, I'm sorry.
Still you was mad.

Who know?
What we're dreaming when we're kissing and screaming?

The after effect should have sealed the deal.
But it created multiple drama.

Veronica, Lynda, Catherine, Tracy or Dawn.
What's the big deal?
What's the harm?
We all pretend in our imagination.
And never a thing.

In the heat of passion.
When you seeking satisfaction.
Many things are said and spoken.

If we could read minds.
We be surprised by things we would find.
So I apologize for calling you another name.

With Diana and Florence, you rule the charts.
With Diana and Cindy, you ruled it more.
But it's that sweet smile folks will remember more.

Like, many artists that built Motown the founder be past tense.
You the queen supreme show the world what grace meant?
You alone kept the legacy alive.

With Jean, Cindy, and Lynda Laurence you had hits.
Which made many question the company promotion attics.
Even on your very on you carried on.

Something about the south talent pool.
But it was that region that kept glamour and respect within you.
It's just the way they raised.

It's sad, so sad you headed to a better place.
Then again, it might just not be because Flo is waiting to greet you there.

Like with bravery you stood before the RRHOF and defended her not been there.
But to many fans of the group you always been special.

The Queen Supreme so very humble.

Fish blood, fleas in rugs, this is how it used to be no accountability,
Heterophobia is the religion of homophiles, no narcotic/hypnic ****
will make spherically-woozy insomniacs wake to this skeptic quirk
after septicemia renders void weapon-salve logic from a septic dirk
Rabbit-blood-stained tires is how it used to be before responsibility
My psoriasis ointment causes itching with subsequent scratching as
the flu inoculant I'm gettin' makes any inoculated flu more catching
regardless of C.D.C.-denials concerning the hoaxes they're hatching
like P.M. Thatcher's crimes over which old Q.C.'s are still thatching
as Marxian bombs deliver the deaths crony capitalists are matching
that corresponds to a Virginia opossum & the fated *** he is latching
while the American patchwork of patched-up reality needs patching
I prefer green-monkey meat raw with fibro-fatty matriarchal plaque
as a well-off *****, ol' sugar-daddy wacko & natty patriarchal hack
I don't find myself, in bleached skin, hearkening back to bein' black
& living the life of Riley in West Bellaire's draftiest tar-paper shack
with Wonder Woman Lynda **** Carter scratching ****** my back
because the cleavage I got isn't as wondrous as her fantastical crack
that rides cabooses through Indore on an Indo-Euro fascistical track
over the impossible curvature of our shooting, masonical ball Earth
as it spins one thousand miles-per-hour at its fattest Equatorial girth

i rarely listen to politicians:
esp not in England:
i never quiet understood the political
banter
of the leader and opposition L
during Wednesday's Prime Minister's questions
on a serious note:
then devolving into child's play
of oratory: ancient Rome, ancient Greece...
but this one instance
i listened to the Sejm: i.e. the Polish
government
and i heard the sobering up to politics
in the version of BRAUN vs. TUSK
i.e.: Grzegorz Braun vs. Donald Tusk:

and apparently England
progressed into the EURO finals
and i heard stories
of PTSD from the 2021 final:
i'm working with some of these people:
some were promoted
some became the Shun of the Sun
of the world of people...

the Shun of the Sun of the World of People:

i spent quality time with my father
and we talked about Southgates' tactics:
criticism: hello little demon
Matthew and Mirsowav have spoken:
i'm not going to employ the diacritic Atlas
pose: no!

she's no longer going to Church:
i think i've given her my fill of Arguments
i have against the Church:
no! not the Church!
i'm not Martin Luther:
my criticism is of Christianity: the essence
not the existence of Christianity:
that's why i adore the Church:
but not Christianity...

never go to sleep high: if creativity is punishing you
then spend the night writing away...
take pauses:
pauses are much longer when high
and drunk in the extreme: **** out: i'm all giggles:
tittle: tattle: and the ticking licking i misspell
Ms. Pell: of alternative Bridgerton: Bridge by
bridge and tonne of tonne of flowing water
this air:

i'm 40 and my psychosis was a forerunner
of her brother's, my uncle's shadow of Self
Emerge...
     like her love is exhausting:
there emerges as Square inside the Triangle:
let me who you...

Ⱑ:  close... it was a T inside of the parameters
if Christianity:
the offshoot of King David's Star Constant:
the new Nomad trapped in
Roman Jerusalem
a bit like a Pollack trapped in London
modern: London...

i was thinking of the clock counting 0 to erase
the Greeks
when the Mongols who were caste from fury
to challenge the Muslims:
while we up north kept for them
the ingenuity of the warm bed and the worm:
a quest for ego:
as Jung predicted: the modern European
man in search of soul:
so came to us the people in search
of the ego...
origins of god can be insightful:
but for how long will you hear eternal truths
told by people with
a relic of concern for the humanity
of the meat they will about to eat:
eat such poor ******* hygiene:
just smelly clothes:
and they ******* eat breakfast like it's a *******
curry house
and they were bomber jackets
in early morning cool heat that i want
to salvage so much but
i can't: and old granny is talking:
this stinking Rastafarian of a woman
stinks the place out with hair and spices...

                    mind you there is a ******* of
the white man to the black man
that's unlike the curiosity of the Asians...
why would the blacks want to imitate the whites
in social creature-ism
while the whites crucify themselves
on bloated lips and whitening teeth
tattooing to be part black: not exactly Nairobi
Neuro
                    Maori... cluck: cluck...

i summon the birds: WRONY: female Crows
i have a harem of them on my rooftop
in my eyes:
about to take me away
the harem of Hugin and Muginn decided
to perch in my sight:
perverted pigeons: even the woodland
pigeons:
forgot to watch the stars
and then realized: O... some moving parts
this a new engineering
hard pressed process?

               in celebration of England reaching
the finals:
perfect time to be alive with father
and silent demon the instructions to
Southgate:
but Saka and Tripier aren't doing much:
keep Rice on for the Muller Muscles of
Advert...
take Kane off...
   put on Watkins...
            take off Wagner... no... Leotard...
no... **** me... Wilkins... Major Major...
i'm not going to look his name
it might it might not:
i'm not so much a Swiftie as to buy
her boyfriend's NFL t-shirt...
that was creepy...

     that's the first time i saw a ******* and i saw ******
clock 1: notice, figest
a slow ******* delay BUTTON not even
red no nukes here:
AMBER...
clock 2: i think that's the hour
but let make check clock 3:
the day hand the week hand
and the month hand...

can someone devise a clock that slow:
this tortoise slow?
is there potential for engineering such a clock?
the mechanisms for such a clock
to exist:

i want...
the day, the week and the month hands:
i can already calibrate that years are
sacred and not the keepers of Time
but are the Keepers of History:
and History is the Censor of Time...
HISTORY = CENSORSHIP...
d'uh you ******* fudge packing ******!

well i'd play chess with her,
go horse-riding with her...
but i'm the ******* who can't see
her silly TikTok lip synchro:
so i'm still the Igor: not the Frankenstein:
mommy is finally moving away
and you have plans
and i'm not remotely even: da-sein:
there: concerned with you:
or you with me:
i must have masturbated 5 times today
to make preferential treatment
to the pain as a pleasure
and do i really need a car in London?
my grandfather never learned to drive:
well!
can i get a pony?! can i please get a pony?!
i'm going to be a little girl right
now...
why couldn't i see that silly TikTok of hers?
i'm still the *******: aren't i?
the thought of lineage crosses my mind
from time to time:
question is:
if two Police Cars come to the aid
of Ry and locomotive Lynda Esq...

        what is being discussed: hyperbolic:
i'm being tender: ice ice... ion: eyed out...
i would be Shakespeare if
i started to see music in writing
and not simply hear it
but then...
i have larvae on my eyes:
i see them as bright as day:
didn't i tell you:
i get VERTIGO when lying in BED

i get vertigo in bed
but not on level 5 of the Coliseum
or on Scottish HQ roof...
i get vertigo in bed...
gravity funny for the 3rd angel
fallen with one
that's me: imitating a sleeping Buddha:
one falls feet first and thirst
one falls head first and Scripture(d)
the idea of the 3rd canny
funny: well if Gabriel
joins out Brood:
how late were the people to clock
in on the dimension of a New Anarchy!

eh! feminism began long ago:
it was a slow progress:
blah ha ha ha ha ah ha ha!
feminism began with Christianity
and Islam:
the currency of the current
iteration:
sisters! sisters! you started ahead of me!
i'm out of breath:
sisters!
i came late:
that's year zero +86
say 19 down the middle....

the sexes of the species will never achieve
the DUALISM
we can observe with perfection
from lion to ant...
as the elevated and the fallen:
we are lodged in a dichotomy...
as much as the French
will try to conjure Parisian
******
and mind-body dualism:
there is the eternal DICHOTOMY:

i need my two ******* clocks!
one for a day
and one for a year!
i don't know what year i am in!

Aston Villa striker:
Wilkins...
sir?
sorry Wilkins: in really don't
know whether i remembered your name
correctly...
Mr a Mr what is this ******
football and t.v.:

      that penalty should never have, been,
given...
one thing rubbing against
a rosemary bush:
nothing it burning:
but since choosing a scented
rather than a burning:
i want to rub all against you:
no lord: are you ******:
a woman: even?

now that the cavern of the release:
perhaps i don't understand the malice
of mother against son
or daughter
or of father against: son, especially:
your daughter:
perhaps i've only been that:
a diamond in the eyes of homeless people:
the philosophy@

weird that i wasn't made to be privay
concerning
Ry antics...
            seems like a rejection letter
to me:
to HELL with all the acting!
i baked that 13 year old cake pool party:
a ******* JOKE!
i spot the pedophiles
you now: insinuate:
maybe a Pakistani Revival
sequence Brighten a Reminder!
love your **** juice and stink!

I don't find myself, in bleached skin, hearkening back to bein' black
& living the life of Riley in West Bellaire's draftiest tar-paper shack
with Wonder Woman Lynda **** Carter scratching ****** my back
because the cleavage I got isn't as wondrous as her fantastical crack
that rides cabooses through Indore on an Indo-Euro fascistical track
over the impossible curvature of our shooting, masonical ball Earth
as it spins one thousand miles-per-hour at its fattest Equatorial girth