"shirley" poems
Raised
in this floating
world, forever
deep.
You can’t drain the ocean
Decidedly from down
south of here
You can’t un-trace the roots.
You can’t lie and say,
“This isn’t where I grew up”
You can’t deny the fruits
of what was planted two generations ago
when your grandpatents arrived from the Philippines, seeds in tow
soil for the taking
You can’t confiscate what they claimed
when they planted their flags
into the moon-white sand of a beach in Florida
on a far side of the planet
their forefarthers have never seen
You can’t say those flags weren’t there
when wind came
You can't ***** out that pride
of country,
cut off its native tongue and its acquired taste, or pass up the plate of fried lumpia and rice passed down from the kitchen of your Daddylol
feeding seven kids day in and out with tomatoes he planted,
chickens he raised, Malonggay leaves he grew
with thumbs so green they wrote in the papers about it
He was a farmer
Your grandmother, a nurse
And i was writer
And this is our story
You can’t erase the letters of your name,
your lineage written all over it
like a map
of everywhere we been
You can’t take back the words in Tagalog and Chavacano
your Lola Shirley must have sang your mother to sleep with
You can’t take their dreams
You can't just wake up one day and undo
the ripple effects their moves
created across waters 10,000 miles east of here,
the rolling waves they curled into
or the faraway shores they washed up upon
Bottled messages in hand
Our legends held within
You can’t say centuries from now that they won’t feel it
when their feet hit the sand of their own frontier
beside the waves we stayed making
a history written in deep water
for those who come after you
to sail above and beyond.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
Rest your hands on my waist
and I'll rest mine on your shoulders
Glide with me around the venue
and tango with me across the dance floor
Buy nasty food with me
and spill Shirley Temple on my pure white dress with me
Poss for professional photos with me
and rest your chest against my back as I blush
Hold me close
as I hold my breath
hoping this moment-
this night-
never ends.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Afterlife Airlines.
I’m your pilot, Captain Meta Physics.
Please fasten your sleep belts
as we are about to leave the body.
Please direct your attention to your stewardess
while she demonstrates safety procedures.
In the event of a drastic reduction in karma,
a mask will fall down from above you.
Place it on and breathe deeply of pure love.
Should those passengers who are clinically dead
find themselves returned by a surgeon’s skill,
the life raft under your seat will inflate
with a new sense of purpose.
After take off the stewardesses will serve milk and honey.
For your entertainment, the movie is
anything with Shirley Maclaine in it
or there are seven channels of chi
on the chakra-phones being dispensed soon.
For those contemplating joining the Tantric Mile High club,
please be considerate of your fellow passengers.
We’re making good time because
the breath of God is always behind us.
Below us to the right is the Ocean of Ego
and to our left some passengers may glimpse
the chain of islands: Faith, Hope and Charity.
We’ve been advised that it’s a little busy on The Other Side
so we’ve been placed in a holding pattern
on the astral plane.
Passengers are reminded to retrieve all emotional baggage
for security reasons
and please help Customs
by declaring all religious preferences.
Ladies and gentlemen, we’re cleared for landing now.
On behalf of the crew, I hope you enjoyed
your transdimensional flight with Afterlife Airlines
and we hope to see you aboard again soon.
Please fasten your sleep belts,
we’re coming in for reincarnation.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
We give thanks for all who have
enriched our lives with their presence;
may we honor them
by always being present for others.
We give thanks for those who
selflessly serve in our armed forces,
for the quiet sacrifices
of their family and friends
and for those who witness for peace
and work to end the conflicts of war.
We are thankful for the tears of the poor
and their example of fortitude
in the daily struggle to live
and for those that extend a hand
and offer a vision of hope
and a pathway to advancement.
We are thankful for our rich abundance
and the blessed spirit that leads us
to generously share it with others.
We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers
and students that are eager
to use that wisdom to better the world.
We are thankful for courageous truth tellers
and the hard truths they speak
and to people of good will that are open
and willing to listen and act on those truths.
We are thankful for the care givers
and their veneration of life
and to those who receive care
and fill the heart of the giver
with fathomless gratitude.
We are thankful for people
of humility and good will
and their blessed example
of quiet service and grace.
We are thankful for children
as an embodiment of our hopes
and the future flowering
of our greatest aspirations.
We are thankful for
our animal friends
and their example
of trusted companionship
and unconditional love.
We are thankful for sobriety
and our ability to discern,
see, discover and experience
the daily grace life confers upon us.
We are thankful for those
who are no longer with us,
may our time on earth be
a blessing to others
as they were to us.
We are thankful to
a higher power
that keeps us right sized,
humble and grateful for
one more day on life's path.
Selah
Wishing All the Beloved
a Happy Thanksgiving
Peace and Prayers
Music Selection:
Shirley Horn, Here's To Life
Oakland
11/25/09
jbm
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
I wished on a star too
Skipped rocks, flew off the inner tube
Played capture the flag, hide and go seek
Summer camp and climbing trees.
Passing notes, amusement parks, sports awards
Just Dance, sleepovers, boogie boards
Tire swings, smores, shirley temples,
Neighborhood friends, trampolines... few troubles.
A shooting star passed,
Silent tornadoes of memories
Come, lets ponder the time machine.
Just a kid, or maybe an adult- I'm 18.
Cherish past experiences, live for your dreams.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Some say, we don't need black history month.
When in truth we do.
Would the contribution of African American be taught truthfully.
If we had to depend on you know who?
Obviously, they very unaware of several successful black that contributed to America's greatness.
We, very well aware they edited down facts to be turn into fiction.
Like that president that chopped down that cherry tree.
Many doesn't know the plight of Washington, Dubois, Carver.
Let alone know their first name.
It's hardly taught, if it's about us.
George Franklin, Grant-dentist
Ernest Everett, Just.-Scientist
Josh Gibson, one of the greatest baseball player.
We know very well about George, Thomas and James and John Q.
Some say, we all Americans
And in truth, they completely right.
But for reasons very well known.
We are not all equal in sights of others.
When needed, they call upon us to join in.
Some still, say-why do Black history month exist?
But all cultures knows none was eliminated through times.
Than those captured to come here and renamed after their masters.
And facts be told, this cultures lives to embrace into their children's if nothing is ever mention by certain teachers about their cultures.
Than they will keep it before them.
Matthew Alexander, Henson-Explorer
Billie Holiday-singer
Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Cab Calloway.
Greatness, we can't let fade.
Vernon Jordan
Shirley Chilsom
And hosts of present days teachers that push the issues to educate.
Those that say, we don't need Black History months.
Be crying , if we try to eliminate theirs.
Cause that's all they ever known.
Howard University.
Tennessee State and Fisk and various others came to be because of discrimination.
And has turned out some brilliant African Americans.
So our history is needed.
Cause it's about us.
Like Latin History and various others is about other cultures.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
you taste like candy
and i am starving and swallowing your tricks
i dreamt of a greasy hotel and
a box to sleep in.
i am not a cannibal,
i am not a sky diver
& and i am not a pilgrim,
but i hunger for your body
and i'm falling for your holy curves.
i will hang from your window and dance in the sunlight
even though i am not a pink velvet curtain.
i am a garbage-collector poet,
fresh from the allabaster market
who has found the words once lost
in a dark fox hole
near the bend of a lazily flowing river.
all i need is a dime and a glass vase,
a short story and a wet cigarette.
i've come back to town--i climbed right out of that stop sign
standing on a shotgun bullet-holed volkswagon
with a 7 day hangover
holding burning grace in my hands and you say
"lead me to the garbage"
carrying with you a bag of soggy french fries
and i stop to show you a dying tulip,
and we watch as it floats into a cloud.
we'll hide all our money in a glowing furnace
and as i try to write this with a water logged pen
you show me pictures of shirley temple with her head in a noose.
my name is not moses, and i do not want to be remembered.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 10:40 AM UTC
A Softer Way to Die
We live and study life
We pray that somehow
God changes his rules.
No one wants to die
No one wants to follow
Those complicated laws;
I mean no lie-ing - no steal-ing
no *** - before marriage no
Fornicate-ing, no kill-ing
No lust-greed or defil-ing the earth.
Amen.
All we can do now is try to find
" A softer way to die".
Pick your battles...
There are many ways to die.
I asked, God why?
When mom threw a
"Monkey wrench" in my world
Answering - "We all have to die"
I immediately winked at God...
Thinking to myself ( not I) .
Gave him a little nudge;
Sidebar God : I said to God
Adamantly "I do not want to die"
"Can you change the rules "?
I never heard back from him
On that subject..
I went to him again
God "Can you at least
Keep me with a mom-
I said "So that I won't be an
Orphan like Shirley Temple" ?
He did get back to me on that
And Mom is Alive and well
Plan A. ( living forever)
Still not executed.
Once again contemplating
Thoughts on how I want to die.
I could not think of a pleasant way
To die, none that seemed appealing.
Nor any options that would be fun.
hmmm, eat myself to death.
Playing chicken with the train,
Might prove thrilling.
As time grew nigh
My thoughts continued
....On a softer way to die.
Childhood gone, middle age gone'
Old age approaching fast and furious
Destroying me like a sudden
Approaching hurricane...
This storm knocked out my lights
Memory gone now..
Forgetting my life- my loved ones
Forgetting my friends,
Children,and foes alike
Forgetting my wrongs - my sins
and accomplishments all.
Everything's gone. So now
What do I do ?... How can
I rewrite my life,Take account..
Of that which I remember not.
The realities of my existence
Has been wiped out from
The Forest Fires burning
In my minds eye.
Have no recordings of
Who loved me or of who
I shall never forgive.
How will I know that I ever even lived.
Taking my dark blank pages into
The after life- My shadowy
Existence ends. I feel no pain
I Have no thoughts,
Have nothing to contemplate.
For I have asked to live forever
Or that I die a,softer way
Forgetting to eat
Forgetting to drink-
Forgetting to swallow
Forgetting to breath...
Forgetting this life-
I close my eyes and fade away.
painlessly
© Vicki Acquah
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
We give thanks for all who have
enriched our lives with their presence;
may we honor them
by always being present for others.
We give thanks for those who
selflessly serve in our armed forces,
for the quiet sacrifices
of their family and friends
and for those who witness for peace
and work to end the conflicts of war.
We are thankful for the tears of the poor
and their example of fortitude
in the daily struggle to live
and for those that extend a hand
and offer a vision of hope
and a pathway to advancement.
We are thankful for our rich abundance
and the blessed spirit that leads us
to generously share it with others.
We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers
and students that are eager
to use that wisdom to better the world.
We are thankful for courageous truth tellers
and the hard truths they speak
and to people of good will that are open
and willing to listen and act on those truths.
We are thankful for the care givers
and their veneration of life
and to those who receive care
and fill the heart of the giver
with fathomless gratitude.
We are thankful for people
of humility and good will
and their blessed example
of quiet service and grace.
We are thankful for children
as an embodiment of our hopes
and the future flowering
of our greatest aspirations.
We are thankful for
our animal friends
and their example
of trusted companionship
and unconditional love.
We are thankful for sobriety
and our ability to discern,
see, discover and experience
the daily grace life confers upon us.
We are thankful for those
who are no longer with us,
may our time on earth be
a blessing to others
as they were to us.
We are thankful to
a higher power
that keeps us right sized,
humble and grateful for
one more day on life's path.
Selah
Wishing All the Beloved
a Happy Thanksgiving
Peace and Prayers
Music Selection:
Shirley Horn, Here's To Life
Oakland
11/25/09
jbm
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
Let's hangout,
old friend,
you, me, and Ellis D. Martini.
Let's roll in the grass and pretend we're six again, let's release our imaginations from responsibility.
I once saw a black widow
so I killed it.
I found its eggs and killed them too.
I found its sister and brother, mother and father, I found its lover and I killed them all. I used a broken broom handle and woke with bites on my ankles, the broom handle cared not to be used for ******
Let's drink all the orange juice we can find,
and call me Nancy from now on, you can be Shirley.
Surely, Shirley, I'd love to hangout;
You, me, and Ellis D. Martini.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
Ang matinis na tinig ng isang libong nagkakalampagang bakal na maninipis ang tumili mula sa gilid ng 'yong ulunan,
Umaga na naman.
Mauuna ang pagbangon mo mula sa kama kaisa sa pagmulat ng iyong mga mata't pag-gising ng iyong diwang pagal sa 'di maalalang panaginip.
Ang hangin ay umihip--
Mula sa bintanang kumakaway gamit ang mga kurtinang bughaw sa paglisan ng gabi sa pagkamusta ng masalimuot na umaga.
Pumipihit na naman ang oras.
Pinanonood mo ang pagputok ng bawat bulang nabubuo mula sa pag-ugong ng kaldero buhat ng initsigan,
Bagay na 'yong kinaiinggitan.
Ang natatanging paraan para mapainit mo iyong umaga ay ang paglaklak ng kapeng 'sing pait ng pagiisa.
Tapos maliligo ka,
Pipihitin mo ang gripo para bumungad sa'yo ang nagyeyelong tubig na kumikitil sa 'yong kakayanan makaramdam.
Sana kumukulo rin yung tubig.
Pinanonood mo ang pagdating at paglaho ng mga pangitain ng isang 'di makatarungang siyudad ng maralita't dukha.
Paano pa nila nagagawang ngumiti?
Ika'y naririndi sa malalim na pag-ungol ng mga sasakyang minamaneho ng mga diwang humihiyaw sa pagkakakulong,
Sa pagkaubos ng oras.
Sinusulit mo ang ilang saglit na ang tanging suliraning iyong sinusumpa ay ang pagkahuli sa klase't mga responsibilidad.
Pagkakataon na naman ng buwan.
Huminga ka ng malalim bago mo nilapat ang 'yong palad na 'sing gaspang ng gasgas na pinto ng iyong bahay,
At dahan-dahan mo itong tinulak.
Nilanghap mo ang kulob na amoy ng hanging 'di magimbala sa segundong umapak ka sa loob ng yung 'di maturing na tahanan,
Isinara mo ang pintuan.
Kasabay nito ang pagsara mo ng iyong sarili sa buong mundong tanging inaalala lamang ang kanilang mga sarili.
Bumuhos ang iyong mga luha.
Ang iyong katawan ay nanginginig, ang isip ay nangingimbal at ika'y nangingimi sa kawalan ng katotohanan--
Ng 'yong pagkatao.
Maririnig **** umuugong ang iyong bulsa't napagtantong may nangangailangang marinig ang iyong boses,
Tumatawag si Mikoy.
Sa pag-sambit niya ng iyong pangalan ay napawi ang bumubagyong luha't naglaho ang unos ng 'di maintindihang lungkot.
Sa pagkakataong iyon, saka mo lang sinabing nakauwi ka na.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC
The picnic bench foils under the body weight of my half drunk self
There is a cat cuddling up to me, with her tail
Pink Floyd plays in the background, as the cat brushes up against my legs
Brings a feeling like something of the loch ness Nessie
Shirley sits beside me, watching the night sky
And focussing on my presence and cigarette smoke
I pet her, and she stays
Smoke and inhale
The cars bustle by
The final places of another busy day
The wall is built and she stays beside me
But she now has disappeared
Inhale, exhale
Smoke my smoke
And drink my 4th beer
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
Eh like playin fitba wee meh Dad,
It's so funny and a wee bit sad
'Cause when eh beat him he gets mad.
Eh like playin fitba wee meh wee lassie,
She plays fitba like Shirley Bassey,
Meh Dad canny tackle, he's so mince.
He devs in and taks awa meh pins.
Meh lassie heiders the ba wee the back o her heid,
Like a fish oot o water
Just before it's deid.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
In a creepy old house I
found a creepy old doll.
I bent to pick it up
and boy did I have a fall.
I stood up had a lump
on my head, but
otherwise alright.
I looked out the window,
day had turned to night.
I looked and looked but
did not find the doll.
I turned to leave and there
it was hanging by it's neck
against the wall.
It's creepy smile seemed to say,
"Come and play with me my friend.
We can play forever
without any end."
To get out of this house
I ran for the door.
But there was no way out.
It was not there anymore.
Through a window I
threw a heavy bust.
The window smashed and
there was a ton of dust.
I looked out the window
but there was no ground,
we seemed to be
floating in air.
I said, No, no
this just isn't fair!"
I felt a hand upon
my shoulder, I let
out a scream.
I heard someone say,
"Wake up honey
your having a dream."
I opened my eyes
to see my husbands
concerned face.
I breathed a sigh of
relief, I was in
a safe place.
My eyes grew heavy
and as I was returning
to sleep, I heard
my husband say,
"Go back to sleep
my friend,
then you
can play forever
without any end."
Shirley Smothers
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
Shirley!
Shirley, Shirley bo Birley Bonana fanna fo Firley
Fee fy mo Mirley, Shirley!
Lincoln!
Lincoln, Lincoln bo Bincoln Bonana fanna fo Fincoln
Fee fy mo Mincoln, Lincoln!
Come on everybody!
I say now let's play a game
I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody's name
The first letter of the name, I treat it like it wasn't there
But a B or an F or an M will appear
And then I say bo add a B then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a
fo
And then I say the name again with an F very plain
and a fee fy and a mo
And then I say the name again with an M this time
and there isn't any name that I can't rhyme
Arnold!
Arnold, Arnold bo Barnold Bonana fanna fo Farnold
Fee fy mo Marnold Arnold!
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
She was very cute with her curly hair and dimples.
The lady who I'm speaking of was Shirley Temple.
She starred in Curly Top and Stand Up And Cheer.
She starred in 60 films during her fabulous career.
It was so sad and tragic when she died in February of 2014.
She was the biggest child star that the world has ever seen.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
I'll See You In My Dreams
I wished upon a star
first one I saw shine bright,
I also said a prayer
I'd see you in my dreams
tonight.
Since you went to heaven
my life's not been the same,
memories of years passed by
in my heart will ever remain.
When I look into the mirror
I'm starring back at you,
proud of who I am
and everything I do.
I'm a reflection of your soul
the legacy you left behind,
to show the world how to love
and stop to take the time.
The way you always did when you
went the extra mile,
I miss you Mom so much, I hope
you're proud and I've made you smile.
I'll see you in my dreams until
God says it is my time.
please know you're always with me
in my heart and in my mind.
In Memory Of Shirley A Fowler
Written By Kathy J Parenteau
Copyright © Jan 2014
All Rights Reserved
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
And oh I ache, like a creaking door, like a rusty faucet pipe. I can hear all the blood running it's errands in the sides of my head, it's this bathroom, this ******* bathroom. I feel like the turning handle on a mall gumball machine, no, then I feel like the ******* gumball, and I fall to the little black crevice with door, and you roll me out and pop me into your mouth, chewing hard and your spit is turning blue and I'm getting softer and softer in your lips. A caged Ocelot, and all I have to look to for a golden tomorrow is the poster of all the colorful wildlife, advertising this sickness. This pinging on a metal ceiling. This brownness. But my posters are of a different pair of devastating blue eyes that I know are evil too, but I pacify myself with the thought that they are so light because they are pure and clear, not because they are cold and hard. I started crying in my sleep. And I wake up with the streetlight shining through the window from that ***** alley that I love, and my face is so wet and so pink, and I say it's better that I cry unknowingly than consciously. I beg and toss for migration and distraction, chaos, oh baby where did you go? You can't leave me here with loose pieces of skin and a sick heart. You can't pick off the bottles on the ledge one by one with a rubber band and some pebbles and leave me with nothing. All I've got left are some nail polish bottles, some concert tickets, a few empty backseats. Things are either so incredible and hopeful or so ***** filthy, like gas stations, like the inside of ovens, and my fingers are becoming calloused. I'm floating like a cherry in a ***** shirley. Oh come, with your fingers in my hair, and kiss me.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
A ghostly image of a soldier
stood in the background,
as a mother with a babe in her
arms stood by a grave site.
She lowly whispered, "Father
this is your son. Son this is your
father. He gave his life so that
others might live."
Now she is alone, but she
will survive. She will raise
this child without the aid
of others. This child will
grow to be a strong man,
because his mother was strong.
Shirley Smothers
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 11:15 AM UTC
dinners at swiss chalet,
luxury before i knew luxury,
and though i've advanced
in diet since, nothing has
tasted better than
hot fudge sundae
mixed with parent smiles,
washed down with
Shirley Temples.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 10:05 AM UTC
«So teach ******
a thousand romance
and play, and sing,
and dance?
no one will ever
understand.
Go tell ma'
i cant' pay the rent;
Go tell ma'
these are twisted sinews
from a tiger heart:
Go tell ma'
my life is only fluff.»
Dreamin' is free?,
don't tell that to me;
I've spent awake
my time in bed
so tired, I've lost
everything I had.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
I was doing a little jig down the sidewalk
When all of a sudden
This red, bulbous, obstruction pounced into my field of view
I said, "Whoa, hotshot, cool down"
He/she/it did not reply
"I'm talking to you kiddo
Can you please communicate with me?"
It just sat there staring at me. Why?
You see, hydrants can be little stinkers sometimes
They'll talk your earlobe off one time
Other times they act like a sack of taters
They're just little drama queens
"Meow meow" said the hydrant
I take a look over yonder, than ask the **** target,
"Are you talking to me sir?"
"Meow," it said "I'm not sure I like your tone"
"You must be some sort of mind type hacker dealio
Cracking into my cerebellum, what are you doing in there?
Seriously man! Come on!
You must be going through emotional trauma. PTSD I don't know."
"Calm down buco, let's talk about this
Over a bucket of churned goat milk, I love that stuff.
How's Shirley? I hear she took up crocheting
I respect that"
"Grr, graa, paa?
Me oh my, this reminds me of pick up sticks all over again
Hey look at this man,
If you walk without rhythm, than you won't attract the worm."
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
Let me tell you about Drew Barrymore:
First of all, she got an early start on self-awareness,
To wit: her breakout role as Gertie in
Steven Spielberg's E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,
And quickly became one of Hollywood's
Most recognized child actresses,
Going on to establish her self to this freaking day.
From wit: Yeah, sure, she got an early start,
She literally grew up inside her movies.
And if we had ever had a
Shirley Temple of our own generation,
Drew is it.
Simply put:
Drew is sweetness personified.
N'est-ce pas?
But Habitat Hollywood needed more,
Must dwell on the Barrymore name,
Pounding that angle,
Sledging the dynastic anvil,
Forging consensus:
It’s in her genes.
It’s that sangue royale,
It’s in her blood.
All those Fairbanks & Randolphs,
Harrisons & Blyths,
Palazzoli & Giofredi . . . ***
That’s where you get your looks,
You little guinea ****
That olive oil & garlic,
Enhancing that gilded
Barrymore Blood!
It must have been an
Early pink thrill for you, Drew,
Seeing all those
Doors spread wide open--
Widespread like a ****** legs--
Career barrier walls,
Inhibitions crumbling.
What a pleasant realization!
“I am a member of a
Multi-Generation
Theatrical Dynasty.”
And going even further back than
John, Ethel & Lionel, Babaloo.
We’re talking the British Stage here,
We’re talking Legitimate Theater,
As in: Tread those boards, GB Shaw!
Which brings me to my point:
Drew’s had a long time to get over
That Diva
(Louie Prima) Donna thing.
She knows who she is.
She’s comfortable out here,
Way out here in the
So-called real world.
Out a monk’s her environment at-large.
Query: heredity or environment?
Always.
To wit: It was always
Her habitat doing the molding--
From Wit: *******
It’s in her ****** DNA.
In her freaking genes:
Which is precisely
Where I’d like to be right now,
My cherished,
My sweet Drew:
In your freaking jeans.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC