Consonants and Vowels...

Gettin' over the mango rolls... Although I am seriously craving them BADLY. Can't stop thinking about the damn things... So freaking yummy....

I am sick. I think I have a sinus infection. Fever, green slime oozing from orifices, sneezing, coughing. You getting the picture here? lol. I am getting an antibiotic tonight, so I will be getting better soon! It sucks working when you feel like horsehit. and horseshit too. I can't type today and am just too lazy to go back and fix the typo! Ha!

Chad is working a crap load of hours this week. I am getting caught up on bills and housework... Fucking yay. Tonight, I am going to start a few special projects and then we will see. Maybe I will read. Maybe I will write something brilliant. Perhaps, I will make more cookies. I have been baking like a fiend, or maybe I will call a new friend and chat. (probably about my obsession with mango rolls... ) Seriously.

My Mango Roll Haiku

Dreaming of Sushi
Mouth waters crispy mango
Sticky rice delight...


Well, that did it. Now that I have already written something brilliant for the day, I guess I can go home and lay on my ass and watch CSI re-runs.

What do you see?

"What do you, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise?
Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes.

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
when you say in a loud voice, 'I do wish you'd try;'
who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then, open your eyes . . .
you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
as I do your bidding, as I eat (at) your will.

I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.

A bird soon at 20, my heart gives a leap,
remembering the vows (that) I promised to keep.

At 25 now, I have young of my own,
who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of 30, my young . . . grows fast,
bound to each other with ties that should last.

At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
but my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At 50, more babies’ play round my knee;
again, we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look to the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing (the) young of their own,
and I think of the years and the love I have known.

I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.
'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles; grace and vigor depart.
There (now is) a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
and now and again, my heart (truly) swells.
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
and I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So, open your eyes, nurses, and see . . .
Not a crabby old woman, look closer, see me."

-Author Unknown-or-Is She-

February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring.

Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas,
Race through the noice of bells and wheels
To where the ink and all you grieving
Are muffled when the rainshower falls.

To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal,
A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees,
Fall down into the puddles, hurl
Dry sadness deep into the eyes.

Below, the wet black earth shows through,
With sudden cries the wind is pitted,
The more haphazard, the more true
The poetry that sobs its heart out.

Read this on another blog and found it fitting for today.

The Day the Saucers Came

That day, the saucers landed. Hundreds of them, golden,
Silent, coming down from the sky like great snowflakes,
And the people of Earth stood and stared as they descended,
Waiting, dry-mouthed to find what waited inside for us
And none of us knowing if we would be here tomorrow
But you didn't notice it because

That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,
Was the day that the graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because

On the saucer day, which was the zombie day, it was
Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us
A ship built of dead-man's nails, a serpent, a wolf,
All bigger than the mind could hold, and the cameraman could
Not get far enough away, and then the Gods came out
But you did not see them coming because

On the saucer-zombie-battling gods day the floodgates broke
And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites
Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities
And charm and cleverness and true brave hearts and pots of gold
While giants feefofummed across the land, and killer bees,
But you had no idea of any of this because

That day, the saucer day the zombie day
The Ragnarok and fairies day, the day the great winds came
And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day
All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day the
Computers turned, the screens telling us we would obey, the day
Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,
And all the bells of London were sounded, the day
Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,
The fluttering capes and arrival of the Time Machine day,
You didn't notice any of this because
you were sitting in your room, not doing anything
not even reading, not really, just
looking at your telephone,
wondering if I was going to call.

Just beneath my skin lies a fury
agitated and unrestrained
it eats at me as a cancer
blinds me with bitter rage
The window it always looks brighter
than the door I 've come in before
Thought maybe I'd jump right outside it
But I just landed back on this forsaken floor
Bruised up and tattered
my ego it crashes
as the rest of me tries
to rise up from the ashes.

How happy is the little stone

That rambles in the road alone,

And doesn't care about careers,

And exigencies never fears;

Whose coat of elemental brown

A passing universe put on;

And independent as the sun,

Associates or glows alone,

Fulfilling absolute decree

In casual simplicity...



Emily Dickinson

You and I, we talked and dreamed
grew much closer through time
If that weren't enough
She always seemed to hurt you and make you cry

It made me feel so bad
I tried to be a friend to you
I liked to make you smile
If only I had known
what you were thinking all the while...

For Hidden away in a quiet wood
Your feelings for me grew
Far past the bounds of what I thought I knew
You thought you would;if you could
take me from my lovers arms
with poems and dreams, unearthly charms...

But Friend, I said
I love you not, for my heart belongs to another
You know him well; You had us fooled
You even called him your brother
You Hurt him too and what about the one in between?

Missing you, yes
Loving you, No
The love you think you see
Lives not here, it cannot be
You tried that door once, did not succeed;
For He alone holds that key

Sing me your words,
I hear you humming at the door.
The words of the ages;
from the ones who came before...

"Be still.Listen.Do not speak."
"In time you will know
and you will reap
the secrets that your disir keep"

Distant voices
from an ancient time
chant and sing
and speak in rhyme

They speak of power;
of bonds and of kin
of holding together
through thick or thin

Secrets passed down
from beginnings of time
are revealed and begin
to unravel in my mind
Mysteries are solved
obscurity becomes sight
complex becomes simple
and day is as night.

As the singing fades out
dark, quiet in the hall
I know and I am
at one with them all.

By: Jen

Up on my high seat
Under the cloak
friend at my feet
She lends to her mind
Her eyes, her ears
are delivered unto mine

I see moons, many trees
as I travel the lands
I fly in the sky
I crawl on my hands
the water; it ripples
and then comes the freeze...
Down deep within the Ice,
his voice, his words
he calls unto me with ease...

One thunderous blow
the ice is now broken
the great one holds my hand
the path is now open...

Out in the mist of this wintery night
Under the cloak, hidden from sight
the snap of a twig; small noises about
I am the night wind that kisses your ear
Your thoughts are mine;
You need not speak out...

By: Jen

That corner looks so lonely
Red bricks , your cask
Like a Poe tale, You build your own grave
Alone, but alas…

Your mind so filled with ugliness
Your soul full of hate
Alone in your darkness
building your wall of fate

Sealed in with yourself
No one can see
Hidden, and crying
If only you could see

Look out into the daylight
My darling, I know it burns
Someday you will understand
Someday you will yearn

To be with the ones who loved you
To forget all those bricks you have laid
By then, I am quite certain
Your karmic debt will have to be paid

You will emerge from your dark corner
Only to see that you are alone
Nobody, No sounds, No answers
Only you, and your painful moans

Regret to fill your heart
Sadness in your soul
No relief in sight
To fill that empty hole…

By: Jen

The wind blows cold as the leaves rustle;
crackle under way.
Sounds and smells , burning leaves
the crisp, light air,
the setting sun lights my way.

Goddess, she whispers on the wind
I hear her call my name
Her voice is soft, like the whispers in the breeze.
Red, orange, gold, waving in the setting sun
The golden leaves drop like her tears.
I am reminded of loved ones pastReflections of them in me...

Invisible bars on my windows
Broken locks on my doors.
Over there,My special place
Quiet, full of grace
I sit there breathing peaceful air.
For a moment, bars not there.

Quiet! Sit and listen!
Freedom rings and I can hear the music faintly, sweetly
I can see the buds bloom from across the room
My eyes close as my guard checks out...

Oh, but the sound of thundering terror
Not a false alarm
Reminds me I am locked up
With this fear, my joy disarmed

They shake the cage where I am kept
Countless times, here, have I wept

Lovers don't look lovely
Friends don't look friendly
I hardly recognize myself
with black water running down my face

By: Jen

My heart is dark and my mind rolling
Round, round, round, round
Down on the sticky ground, the mud, the rain pounds
puddles puddles
My tears are cold, sloppy puddles
that you stomp on through
without care.
Like they were not there.
There you stand all wet and I hate you.

By: Jen