tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-130930032011-04-21T22:43:26.256-05:00I'm Vickie and I live in Ohio. This is my poetry from this year. If you would like to critique something I've written or simply leave a comment, all are welcome.Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.comBlogger1771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1176090128689580862007-04-08T22:31:00.000-05:002007-04-08T22:42:08.703-05:00

On Tuesday, it was eighty.Easter Sunday, we got a footand a half of snow. It is hardto have sunny, creative thoughtswhen the weather is crappingan inch an hour on all things.I can't imagine sailing ships,human cargo, or malignedpirates. Winter has returned.I can't create a floweringgarden when the groundis being as choked as I.I can only submit that Iam weak and bleak today.Tomorrow might be

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1172806141464410652007-03-01T22:20:00.000-05:002007-03-01T22:29:01.466-05:00

The tumbleweed skims the surfacewherever the wind propels it.It scratches the dry earthand scatters those treasuresas it roams the desert.He has freedom to roamthe world. The wind is his only map.Sometimes, the tumbleweedentangles with twine and performsa solitary dance to nature.Rarely is an audience present;never is the dance appreciated.He is sensual and abandonshimself to forces greater than

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1172805578831996842007-03-01T22:05:00.000-05:002007-03-01T22:19:38.846-05:00

The tumbleweed skims the surfacewherever the wind propels it.It scratches the dry earthand scatters those treasuresas it roams the desert.Sometimes, the tumbleweedentangles with twine and performsa solitary dance to nature.Rarely is an audience present;never is the dance appreciated.The random path of the weedis not always without damage.Sheer abandon among the elementscan shift to a course less

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1171221512843061712007-02-07T14:17:00.000-05:002007-02-11T14:18:32.846-05:00

One journey endsas she drifts to her destination--quietly, peacefully--as she had been called.The fight was overafter years of onslaught.It was time to rest.One journey endsas another one begins.Unchartered waters call to heras she steps into the unknown.She wills her eyes to openknowing only too wellthey already are. Willher path be similar to the oneher adversary followedwhen he invaded her

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1171221335053540352007-01-23T14:14:00.000-05:002007-02-11T14:17:35.050-05:00

Can't change the course of eventsInspite of all the good intentionsNever underestimate the powerDon't forget the temptations eitherInstead, prepare to fight for dear life

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1168574643881271392007-01-11T23:01:00.000-05:002007-01-11T23:04:03.896-05:00

He has a distincttrickle-down effect on me.Caribbean sweat dripsoh-so-slowlybetween my breastsevery time he is near.Normally, I go for a moretraditional sandwich,but in his case, I simplywant to be the bun.Oh, lasso me a snowflake,honey,and cool me down.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1163910560659079942006-11-18T23:23:00.000-05:002006-11-18T23:29:20.660-05:00

Changing seasons means so much morethan falling temperatures and varying climates.A blueness falls in heavy clouds of lethargyas the holidays approach faster again.I feel a fullness descend upon meeven before the feast has begun.The task of shopping weighs heavyupon my shoulders and I trudgefrom store to store.I need my own Santa and workshopof elves to get me throughthe next few months. I need

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1162574481368580522006-11-03T12:16:00.000-05:002006-11-03T12:21:21.416-05:00

The words,they come not today,claim an emptinesswhen there's so much to say.The hunger to be heardresounds throughout.The silence that followscauses doubt.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1161052933195084402006-10-16T21:21:00.000-05:002006-10-16T21:42:13.346-05:00

I walk with dread. I know I'm not alone.I look around and, of course, no one is there.But, I am not alone. The darkness beckonsme and the street light whispers safety.I cannot trust either because I know.My predator is right on my heelsand so much larger than life. He changesin an inkling and reaches long armsto grab at my flesh. I elude him once againbut know that it won't be long now.I run only

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1160965985681939012006-10-15T21:21:00.000-05:002006-10-15T21:33:05.703-05:00

Hey Mister,keep those whiskers and those pawsto yourself. I may be alone,but I'm not needy.Go back to where your preywon't question your motivessince they won't even knowwhat the word means.There's no law against solitude.It is only confinement causes trouble.I'm not near lonely enough for you.My parents taught me a thing or two.I've been on my own for as longas I can remember. My folks, well,

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1158101266482813092006-09-12T17:39:00.000-05:002006-09-13T16:21:55.903-05:00

My son will never be Pope.There are too many older and wiser than he.They will overshadow him.My son spent far too much timeinside his own head when he was younger.He was always timid.My son knows the passionof his convictions. He never understoodthe fascination of the fairer sex.My son will forever bein the shadows of more powerful men.This is the way God made him.My son, like His son,seeks to

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1157078731221141202006-08-31T21:28:00.000-05:002006-08-31T21:45:31.236-05:00

The days are getting shorterand are passing much to quickly.Another year is drawing to a close.I don't know where the time goes.I look forward to something differentand regret the sameness yet again.Another chance has slipped away.I don't know where the time goes.Like rain that washes away the sootand chases it down the side of my car,opportunity never knocked this door.I watch the time go down

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1157077646059146492006-08-31T21:26:00.000-05:002006-08-31T21:27:26.080-05:00

summertime heatwavepreferable to winterslow time to a crawl

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1156192111373553822006-08-21T15:24:00.000-05:002006-08-21T15:28:31.390-05:00

I remember all that time agowhen we couldn't helpbut drift toward each other.There was a newnessand excitement that prevailedwith every breath and sigh.As the years travel by,we don't have so muchurgency any more.There's more of a contentment.I still look forward to seeingyou every single day.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1156030939833180952006-08-19T18:41:00.000-05:002006-08-19T18:42:19.846-05:00

Remember the good.Tomorrow might lead us downa different path.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1153968960346544762006-07-26T21:49:00.000-05:002006-07-26T21:56:00.363-05:00

I knew this babywould get me noticed.I've had more attentionin the past six months than Idid in my entire life.I was grounded most of it.I know Danielle will continueto bring me notice. If I couldjust get her out of me so Ican sleep. That would be swell.And, they tell me that won't happen.I won't sleep again for years.At least Danielle and I willhave each other. It is hard to saywhere Eddie ran

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1153101034299927552006-07-16T20:48:00.000-05:002006-07-16T20:50:34.313-05:00

A shadow hangs between us even now.It is an impenetrable curtain of the past.We can’t seem to get where we used to be.Things have stayed the same, yet they’ve changed.Ever so subtly, we’ve changed and can’t go back.How I yearn for the way things were before.This shadow lives in the jail of our minds.It has imprisoned the possibility of closeness.It gives an unreal sense of superficiality.Things

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1152141728336380902006-07-05T18:14:00.000-05:002006-07-05T18:24:09.000-05:00

The storm has brokenand words spew like raindropsthat pelt windows and clothing alike.Hurtful utterings puddle at my feetonly to pull me down in the soddengutter of filth.A deep, wet coldness seepsinto my bones and hardensmy heart as mindless obscenitiescontinue to be hurled at my head.The puddles will eventually shrinkand dry and sun will shine again.But, some storms leave such a deepimprint

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1151537168541018382006-06-28T18:25:00.000-05:002006-06-28T18:26:08.560-05:00

The seat swallowed meas I watched the show.I shrank, visibly, fromthe magnificence before me.Women we never meant to bethat beautiful,that flexible, or that perfect.Not when I was around, at least.Left to myself, I felt goodabout who I wasand how I looked. Duringthis show, I knew the lies.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1150600089750205522006-06-17T22:07:00.000-05:002006-06-17T22:08:09.776-05:00

So many timeslife goes from bad to worse.I often find myself thinkingnevermore.Yet, history repeats itselfand I become a broken record—the vinyl kind of yesterday.Nevermore.And then I met you.I walked eggshells for yearswaiting for the crackthat never came.Nevermore.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1149475464350456732006-06-04T21:43:00.000-05:002006-06-04T21:44:24.373-05:00

As a writer,I often pluck at my dulcimeras I contemplate the world.Many have come and gonein my life; most don’t stay long.My silence perturbs the quietestin my attention to insignificant items.Hours spent studying anthillslead me to only one conclusion.The ants are my friends;they’re blowing in the wind.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1148265460005066642006-05-21T21:33:00.000-05:002006-06-04T21:46:18.040-05:00

Pieces make up the whole.A little bit of me and a little yousimmered in the stew of life,stirred gently to ease awaybubbles of trouble just belowthe boiling point.Confusion compounds our every day.Explosions just below the surfaceare so much less dangerousthan current day suicide bombers.However, the pieces and confusiondon't always mesh and can ignitein a whole new way.The highway leads us to

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1147554606997515292006-05-13T16:01:00.000-05:002006-05-26T15:37:17.020-05:00

These halls echo in their emptinessand reverberate all the painand suffering witnessed over the years.What was once a magnificent placeof hope, courage, and strengthis reduced to rubble that standsready to meet its own demisemuch in the way many patients did.With all new and improved things,the old becomes negelected.People don't need both; they needonly the best and the brightest.These walls no

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1147554086452441992006-05-13T15:58:00.000-05:002006-05-13T16:01:26.470-05:00

hearts unattendedstill resemble a shadowof their former selves------------------------Optimism is easily lostamong the debris of which you speak.Seek that which you desireand restore the ebb and tideof this thing called life.--------------------------would it were that easynothing in life is so certainand paper means nothingbetter to trust instinctand live in the moment

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1146518026720363822006-05-01T16:12:00.000-05:002006-05-01T16:15:38.386-05:00

Brass goblets dribble sour wineand perfection isn’t always so.I tipped my hat to the ladyas any gentleman would.I tell the following tale:She was a generic baby.You know: assorted gurgles and coos.Rumors flew, wafted on rising innuendo;They say she knew her business.“Huh! Buncha dam yankees” he muttered,wiping tobacco juice off his chin.Her father didn’t believe a wordspoken against her.“

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1144791010985515002006-04-11T16:24:00.000-05:002006-04-11T16:30:11.013-05:00

Don't think his leaving went unnoticed;Only strangers will tell you different.None could deny his attraction and strength.Opium would not ease this pain, this loss.Very strong was his power in our livesAn improvement was always aroung the cornerNever did we expect this outcome; his hope lives on.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1143604307660263392006-03-28T22:37:00.000-05:002006-03-28T22:51:47.690-05:00

Simply a promise of warmer weatherlightens my load as I shed winter layersfrom my frame. I feel lighter, more carefree.One step forward, though, and two steps backas cold and rain remind us that drearinesslingers in the unsuspecting.Nature's creations do not heed the final warningsfor frost in the darkened hours. They break groundand show themselves in the unexpected havensbeneath the decayed

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1142994481803724412006-03-21T21:14:00.000-05:002006-03-21T21:28:01.826-05:00

I BelieveI believe there is an angelwatching over me in my times of fear.I believe most things are temporaryif only I have the strength to endure.Carry on and make the best decisionsavailable at the time; regret nothingas it only brings pain unchecked.They say good things come to thosewho wait; well, I've waited but my angelshows me patience when I've none left.Things often don't work the way we

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1141700786628374622006-03-06T21:57:00.000-05:002006-03-06T22:06:26.663-05:00

The shepherd does not lead methrough the clouds this night.As hard as I count, the sheepand the clouds turn into pillowsthat choke the breath from me.I toss and turn with every stokeof the clock and the pillow against my face.Invisible hands will not leave mealone in my weariness--my pain.They torment me into sweating frenzyas I struggle against my assailant.The hands are not attached to anyone

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1141078071792682532006-02-27T16:58:00.000-05:002006-02-27T17:07:51.846-05:00

In the beginning,man walked alone.Life was good.There was no one to stare,compare, or dare himto be any different.He was content.No one could tell him otherwise.There was no one to sharehis contentment with either.But, the lightbulb came on and God created woman from the rib of man.Man, therefore, became lessthan perfect and woman waswhole in the image of Man and God.This soon led to

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1139350000124240202006-02-07T17:01:00.000-05:002006-02-07T17:06:40.156-05:00

She remembers the crowns,the gowns, and the gloryas if it were only yesterday.Only yesterday was fadingjust as quickly as the beautyshe once held dear.No one ever told her that beautydidn't prevent loneliness.They never told her that memorieswould be all that was left.She knew now that memorieswould not warm her bed at night.And, memories fade too.Just like the crown whose jewelstarnish with age

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1138675519725295202006-01-30T21:38:00.000-05:002006-01-30T21:45:19.943-05:00

She was the princessof her own mind and his.She knew all about lifeand love; she'd seen it allthrough horn-rimmed glasses.She was the fairest of the land,if not the easiest, and all menknew her most intimate secrets.Each new tidbit revealed intimatelywas soon ridiculed in public knowledge.She never knew what others really thought.Her private forest was riddled with wolveswho found the princess to

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1138156440557823422006-01-24T21:26:00.000-05:002006-01-24T21:34:00.613-05:00

The seeds of winter settle inas nature clears a path for the deep roots of loneliness.Snow blankets and protectsthe offerings that festeras they take hold beneaththe frozen soil.All living things requirelight that forces them to rise above.They know not what they seek,yet seek nonetheless with growth.Companionship and community give riseto reproduction at its simplestsince man needs other

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1137208613909936592006-01-13T22:11:00.000-05:002006-05-13T11:21:09.040-05:00

Blackness sucked him down,down, down, into oblivion.His choices seemed limited.With blinders, he plungedhead firstinto the deepest, darkest holeonly to find it was notwhere he was meant to be.Left with nothing;he sought the light.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1133663128443745492005-12-03T20:56:00.000-05:002005-12-03T21:25:28.463-05:00

It was so terribly long ago,and yet it was only yesterday,when we were young and reckless.Love was so much simpler then.It was easier to believethat Alice could find her waythrough the rabbit holeand that pills could shrink and growa person to fit the circumstance.Mary Poppins always came to the rescuewith her trusty umbrella and a spoonthat made medicine taste like sugarand the longest word in

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1132785593652984472005-11-23T17:26:00.000-05:002005-11-23T17:39:53.700-05:00

My words desert meas does my courage.I am ineffectualwhen I need most to be supportive.She's liable to topplewith the wrong wordspoken without malice.Once the damn breaks,repairs are difficult.It would be my wishthat things aren't what they are, but alas,there's no escapefrom what must be.I only hope she knowsthat I am that endlesssupply of bandaidsand will be readyshould the need arise.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1132543817332792402005-11-20T22:17:00.000-05:002005-11-20T22:30:17.366-05:00

and threw herself, wildly, on the mercy of the flames.Where the fire burned, the old shriveled skinpeeled away and fell.She was a slithering snake,shedding its old skin and growing into the new.She basked in the heatfrom the flames and gainedstrength from the inferno.At the same time, though,she knew that she must dragherself from her playground.Should she stay too long,she would dry up and

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1131849371626904562005-11-12T21:19:00.000-05:002005-11-12T21:36:11.656-05:00

There's a sad premonition I dreadthat thickens the air like Winter's frostslipping through the apparent weaknessesof my being. I shudder violentlyat the thought of the long, cold days aheadwhere we must fight the elements along with our own demons within.The omen of spring is the only thingthat keeps me sane. The hint of warmtheventually penetrating through me keeps me plodding along these snowy

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1131506410732747092005-11-08T22:13:00.000-05:002005-11-08T22:20:10.786-05:00

I've neglected you for much too long.Today, I want to atone--make it right.Forgive my lack of sensitivityto the needs you have shown clearlyin the sinking of the sun below the horizon.Many times, I was able to pay my respectswithout needing an excuse. That's the wayit should be; that's how I want it.Life interferes and time runs outand things just never get aroundto happening. But, I'm hereto

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1131163185606832202005-11-04T22:58:00.000-05:002005-11-06T14:02:37.820-05:00

Words spill from my brainand soak the paper with ideas.Sometimes they trickle forwardas a gentle brook tucked serenely in the woods.Then there are those days where the water faucet neverturns off. Words demandand take a life of their own.I allow them to live.I don’t have a choice.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1130183502418310892005-10-24T14:41:00.000-05:002005-10-24T14:51:42.430-05:00

Drizzle drips like a persistent faucetand the tears slide unchecked from my eyes.The grayness of the day penetrates deepto mix with the ugliness that is me.I walk aimlessly, heavily with weightpressing me slower. I have no realdestination; I just want to be away from all that echoes my name.Finally, too tired and worn to care,I lay in wet grass and let the raincourse over me until I no longer

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1130034509412299672005-10-22T21:23:00.000-05:002005-10-22T21:28:29.423-05:00

Another day closes without any interest.Nothing made it specialin its dreary downpour.Let me feel the coolnesswithout the moisture.Allow me to embrace windas the sun fights to warm.I'm not ready for winter,but biting temperatureswould, at least, make mefeel something.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1129777023910850982005-10-19T21:41:00.000-05:002005-10-19T21:57:03.933-05:00

Ash black and the seven giantsterrorized the world by sheer size.They lived in a shoe factorywith voracious appetitesand empty cupboards.If you've ever woken up from a soundsleep to the noise of carpets being beaten to loosen their dirt,imagine magnifying that noisetenfold. At least we had warning.If the reverberation of footstepsshook your door, it would be bestto empty the fridge on the

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1129517639405258702005-10-16T21:49:00.000-05:002005-10-16T21:53:59.406-05:00

Fairy tales are not real.They seldom happen in life,but the idea of the magicappeals nonetheless.We kiss an ugly frogand he turns into the princelong sought in our hearts.That is romantic.We are rescued from dire predicamentsby the man we really wanted.That is fantasy.We ride off into the sunsetand live life happily ever after.That is just too good to be true.But, it is what we desire.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1129172219636112162005-10-12T21:46:00.000-05:002005-10-16T21:56:21.620-05:00

Our thoughts are the mostprivate possessions of our minds.We carry them like pocket changethat jingles and sometimes we cash in on the jackpot.When possessions beginto take over our lives,though, that is a seriouswakeup call that must be heeded.Obsession is death.Once we no longer controlthe force and directionof our musings, we havelost our grip on realityand our sanity.Revenge--call it grim

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1128821219280687022005-10-08T20:11:00.000-05:002005-10-08T20:26:59.300-05:00

As you move through this day,you begin a new life, a new union.May love and harmony sustain the both of you as the melodyof life offers temptation.Do not dwell on the unimportant.Together, you will create what really matters. You'vealready started that processtoday. A seed has been planted.Nourish the growth as you wouldthe coming of a child. What younurture will be cherished muchas your

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1128738947870804632005-10-07T21:30:00.000-05:002005-10-07T21:35:47.880-05:00

I was put on the spot."First up," she saidwithout guidanceor inspiration; my brainponders the possibilitiesand proves to be empty.I have to submit something.So, I stumble throughthis poem and tryto give it meat even thoughvegetables were suggested.And, I fail miserably.I find that writing does not help.No ideas spring to life;no juicy morsels fallto my plate. I did, howevercreate eighteen

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1128480806274942452005-10-04T21:41:00.000-05:002005-10-04T21:53:26.286-05:00

If fall is death,then I prefer the waynature handles demise.The air has a crispnessand the colors burstin their descentto dust.The autumnal treeoffers its fallen fruit to be gathered and stored.Forgive the occasionaldent in the bodiesof cars on their wayto ground.Harvest the cropand clear the earth;prepare its winter blanket.Can and freeze quicklyto ease the burdenof the shorter,grey days.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1128393966045862962005-10-03T21:25:00.000-05:002005-10-03T21:46:06.263-05:00

Pretty whispered liestake advantage of the wandering mindof a satisfied body.Tell me your plansfor us. And tell meyou'll treasure mefor all time.Build me up slowlythen knock it down.I've become usedto disappointment.I've never played chessbut the wooden horsesdelight my sensesas a means to escape.A memory of smokewill be all he takesinto his breathwhen this old rag quiltuses drastic measuresto

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1128048069414763532005-09-29T21:27:00.000-05:002005-09-29T21:41:09.450-05:00

I came home for workand couldn't help but feel like an old rag quiltthat had been cuddledfor too long.I needed a good soakin a hot bubble bath.I poured a glassof cheap red winefrom the cartonand began to makelong-overdue plans.I would win.I needed to getmy life on track.I would quit my joband start anew; I had some moneystuck in the bank. I was more thana sidewalk for others.I wouldn't be

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127876106927759932005-09-27T21:50:00.000-05:002005-09-28T16:49:30.446-05:00

Gentle rainwashes me cleanas tears slip frommy eyes to poolat my feet.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127875831283602072005-09-27T21:47:00.000-05:002005-09-28T16:57:54.253-05:00

Hold me tightas your warmth seepsinto my heartkeeping me safein your arms.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127875603108820972005-09-27T21:41:00.000-05:002005-09-27T21:46:43.123-05:00

Forever new,a light caressof lips againstsensitive skin--delightful.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127358080936441312005-09-25T21:52:00.000-05:002005-09-29T16:36:31.816-05:00

She always was a doer.Even if it wasn't broken yet,she'd fix it. Her life becamecluttered when she never, ever threw anything away.It could be fixed.Her husband lost his waytrying to find the wifeamidst her things. He gaveup making it work whenshe tried to fix him. Itwas only a splinter, but still...So, when her heart was broken, she set outto make it right; it was what she did best. She

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127357520300126092005-09-21T21:43:00.000-05:002005-09-21T21:52:00.310-05:00

The moon winked at daybreakand acknowledged my greetinga mere nod to a peek-a-booexistence. Almost full, itshared space with the risingsun, satisfied in its cycleas a thin sliver of pie fadesaway. Movement of the sun,moon, and Earth soon make rightwith the world in replacingthe tripod with the bipolaralignment. Two extremes,constantly pulling, causechaos. All is normal today.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1127094507807672772005-09-18T20:26:00.000-05:002006-08-09T22:10:53.490-05:00

Getting philosophicaldoesn't yield answers;it provides better questions.Unless some supreme beingwere to gain a voice, wespout our seeds to the air.Echoes may answer, but rarely.I need to know.Much of what we don't knowlies within faith. Unknownsbased on beliefs guide usin the darkest hours beforedawn. The truth isn't out there;the truth is buried deep withinour very souls. Unlock it now.I don't

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1126232359915208532005-09-08T21:14:00.000-05:002005-09-08T21:19:19.923-05:00

Dusk descends slowly upon us.The encroaching darkness allowsme to shed some of my inhibitions.I wear the night like a cloakthat is light and carefree.He, though, melds into the shadowsand becomes reticent and withdrawn.He slinks silently into blacknessthat cannot be penetrated. He doesn'tknow how well he wears moonlight.He is at his most attractive and leastapproachable. Even as I wrap

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1126144388778180202005-09-07T20:12:00.000-05:002005-09-07T20:53:08.793-05:00

SundaySunday is the day of rest.Seldom do we work too hardon this, the last day, each week.Instead, we spend time with friendsand family. The week's done.We wind the week down slowly;we know it starts again onMondayMonday we are back to work,another week with nosespressed against computer screens.We cross our eyes and dot teasand often wonder how we got where we are; if everwe could begin anew

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1125946245938738872005-09-05T13:40:00.000-05:002005-09-05T13:50:45.946-05:00

The city is a rancid river where I dare not tread.The dead float silently pastas I try my hardest not to look.While I want to make surethese are not bodies I know,the most I can do now is save myself from the same fate.I can't carry myself to safetyand drag you along as well, you'realready beyond the confinesof this earthly paradise.If I can, I will come backand show the proper allegiance.I'll

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1125716640724621792005-09-02T21:55:00.000-05:002005-09-02T22:04:00.750-05:00

Amid the chaos, people get killedfor having more than their neighbors.A bottle of water can cost blood.Others simply vacantly stare and waitfor the angels to come. The angelof mercy is also the angel of death.For a time, we do what we absolutelymust in order to survive, but sometimeswe cannot afford to follow instructions.Sometimes, we are the victim of circumstanceand suffer the consequences of

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1125370074333470552005-08-29T20:52:00.000-05:002005-08-30T15:48:19.436-05:00

We live and lose without knowing whybut we continue on because it is what we do.The pain must mask something to make it more bearable, otherwise we'd only function.Life sucks us into the black void.If we never knew that which spoils,we would never appreciate the gold.Even so, experience need not be so cruel.Unusual punishment has long been outlawedyet, our emotions still resort to torture.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1125270931001948572005-08-28T18:08:00.000-05:002005-08-28T18:15:31.046-05:00

Rarely does a day go so totally rightthat we can't help but smile our waythrough the hours. Most often, thingsgo a little wrong and sour the mood.If we could reverse engineer the processand re-do some of the ills, maybe an applewould help the experiment, we could laughaway the evils in their tenacious audacity.Wink at the next one and blink away trouble.Strive for pleasantry and enjoyment; the

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124933911225416632005-08-24T20:29:00.000-05:002005-08-26T22:01:10.760-05:00

Two days of frustrationwears thin on my patienceas I struggle to move forward.A simple count should neverchange costume midstream.A masquerade is only funas long as there is mystery.Carry the charade too far,and temperatures will risecausing the blood to simmer.Beware, lest the pot boil.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124851025697284842005-08-23T21:27:00.000-05:002005-08-24T20:25:38.416-05:00

Take me into your bed and become my blanket;warm my body with yours.Trace my curves gentlywith tongue and fingers;be firm with what is yours.Show some tendernessto my sensitive areas--my ears, nose, and eyes.Flutter your lashesknowingly and I willrespond in kind.Slowly lower yourself into my welcoming pool.We will swim aloft.The stars await our arrivalamidst the cloud and moon.Stay with me

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124675423103139402005-08-21T20:27:00.000-05:002005-08-21T20:50:23.113-05:00

May the darkness swallow me whole;I don't want to be visible any more.Hide my discomfiture behind the cloudslet me roam the universe alone in peace. Never have I been welcomed with open arms.More I have been shunned as different.Handicapped by unseen forces, reactionsonly reinforce innate inhibitions.Blend me into the surrounding nightwhere stars hold the attention of gazers.Slather face paint on

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124419285788166232005-08-18T21:38:00.000-05:002005-08-20T11:05:14.076-05:00

Her family fell apart when father left,successors never reached his memory;mother and children were a bit bereft.Daddy had become an allegory.She caught her man in a different way;shotgun wedding, the first mistake was made.Mom and babes narrowly escaped that frayto a gentler man who came to their aid.Six darlings later, she finally learnedthe deep secrets of her fertility.Her husband, though,

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124334111595683972005-08-17T21:34:00.000-05:002005-08-17T22:01:51.603-05:00

She so loved her father before he left,his successors, a grasp at memory;mother and children were a bit bereft.Daddy had become an allegory.She caught her man in a different way;shotgun wedding, the first mistake was made.Mom and babes narrowly escaped that frayto a gentler man who came to their aid.Six darlings later, she finally learnedthe deep secrets of her fertility.Her husband, though, had

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124247625981801202005-08-16T21:19:00.000-05:002005-08-16T22:00:26.006-05:00

I watched him walk away unaware that I was there, an observer. Even his walk had attitude. His t-shirt, tucked into his pocket,moved with him as he made his jaunty way up the street away from me.I was the bull in the arena;he was my matador.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124243325523734502005-08-16T20:31:00.000-05:002005-08-16T21:06:30.700-05:00

She loved her father before he left;his successors, a grasp at memory;mother and child were a still bereft.Daddy had become an allegory.She caught her man a different way;by shotgun, the mistake was made.Mom and babes escaped that frayto another man who gave them aid.Six darlings later, she hadn't learnedthe secrets of her fertility.Her husband, though, had early earneda champion title for

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124242279619894612005-08-16T20:12:00.000-05:002005-08-16T20:31:19.633-05:00

She loved her father before he left.His succesors were a grasp at memory;mother and child were a still bereft.Daddy had become an allegory.She caught her man a different wayby using a shotgun to make it right.Before long she knew she could not stay;but, she couldn't go without a fight.She found a man to share her life.It was never easy, but they had kids;she excelled at mother and played at

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124159296784563072005-08-15T20:17:00.000-05:002005-08-16T20:01:41.696-05:00

She remembers her father before he left.The string of men who faded his memory made mother and child a bit bereft.Daddy had become an allegory.She caught her man a different way;did the shotgun thing to make it right.It wasn't long before she couldn't stayonly she knew there would be a fight.She found a man to share her life.It was never easy, but they had kids;she excelled at mother and played

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1124073691093747462005-08-14T21:29:00.000-05:002005-08-14T21:41:31.106-05:00

I never forgot how straight he stood.Those years in the military gave himan undeniable presence and he knew it.Years earlier, I watched him walk awayunaware that I was there. Even his walkhad attitude. His t-shirt was tuckedinto his back pocket and moved with himas he made his purposeful way up the street.After all these years, I remember it still.Even today, he has a smile reserved for me.I

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123965446781033592005-08-13T15:22:00.000-05:002005-08-13T15:38:12.680-05:00

I met him years agoat the rink. It almostdid not happen; shewould not skate with him--that left me.Funny how things work out--her loss, my gain.The next day, he rodethrough my neighborhoodand found me walking homefrom tutoring. We talkeduntil his dinner bell rang.I was late getting home--he was, too.Over time, we get togetherand break up again. Always,we'd gravitate back. We didmy sweet

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123642659848241412005-08-09T21:43:00.000-05:002005-08-09T21:57:39.866-05:00

I'm at home in the shadowswhere my presence is ignored.I step forward when need demands.Call me a nosy bitch if you mustbut I trust my own advice betterthan that of some youngster.My shadow comforts me in its cloakwhen anonymity rules the day. There's no need to call attentionto myself; I'd rather be a recluse.Just sometimes, I need to be heard--I step forward on paper and pen.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123641488104527402005-08-09T21:28:00.000-05:002005-08-09T21:38:08.113-05:00

attention clamorsaway in my brainthoughts torture me for releaserational behavior fadespaint seeps colorsacross my blank face

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123555128982462702005-08-08T21:17:00.000-05:002005-08-08T21:38:48.993-05:00

Pictures, especially black and white,call to my inspirational nature. I canspool stories about the nothings I don'tknow. I can make one believe it is mine.Nature, as in the gorgeous watercolorsI observe from my window to the world,calls my name on occasion. It speaksto a grander scheme than I belong.Stories catch my fancy and transportme to places I would never wander myself.I can explore the

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123440289681011602005-08-07T13:34:00.000-05:002005-08-08T20:34:54.536-05:00

Shall we dance to the musicof your words? We can swayto the rhythm of syllablesand glide across the white space.We must dip at the end of linesand pause a time or two. Ourbodies know the language. Listen to the melody of your mind.Our movements are smooth, sinewy.We are a waltz in the making with long, graceful stridesacross a high-gloss floor.Speak to me of nothing in layers of color

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123374420465888082005-08-06T19:13:00.000-05:002005-08-06T19:27:00.480-05:00

As I clear the spidery cobwebs from my dormant brain, I realizethat life is fragile. Handle with care.Like a fine piece of discontinued crystal,it is priceless in its similarity to the rest of the set. Once shattered,the set becomes scarred forever.We cannot glue the pieces togetheras the seams will show and water will seep through the cracks. Splintersof glass cut deep and powder of dust

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123206461866358132005-08-04T20:37:00.000-05:002005-08-04T20:47:41.876-05:00

Chase your dreams Home. Find her waiting, Open arms, to kiss awayChaos. She'll guilt youOnly afterward, but thenLovers like herAren't indulgent.True temptation must beEaten slowly and savored.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123190990695157492005-08-04T16:25:00.000-05:002005-08-04T16:39:18.650-05:00

Show me some sillinessjust to make me laughsince medicine is what I need. I spent the day in a boardroomhearing statewide stuffindirectly related to me.It is all about the company.If the company succeeds,we succeed. Show me that success in the formof cash.I'm tired of breakingmy spirit and rubbingmy eyes just to givemore than I have--for you.Yes, it is my job,but you owe me big time.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1123030556731444932005-08-02T19:51:00.000-05:002005-08-02T19:56:17.933-05:00

Some days, I'm too tired for playful.I want quiet reflection and attentioninstead. Put your hand on my kneeas you sometimes do just to let me know you're there, as I am.Gentle touches of understandingsuit me fine. Don't grapple for myaffections, I might run away. Keep it simple and low key. Youknow I care; I've only had enough.Caress my cheek and scratch my spine.You'll have me wanting more on

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122946905558862982005-08-01T20:23:00.000-05:002005-08-01T20:41:45.566-05:00

She'd been in that hospital bedfor months. She'd lost both legsto Peripheral Vascular Disease.In a semi-coma, she was pushedinto a corner and maintained.Somewhere along the way, her brainregistered the inattention. She was always a commanding presencein her size, voice, and demeanor.She was not used to being ignored!She was in Colorado, we were here.Her sister called to let us knowthe state of

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122939218188639422005-08-01T18:25:00.000-05:002005-08-01T18:33:38.203-05:00

Through blurry eyes, I attemptthe simplest of tasks. I getno cooperation from technologyand no satisfaction from myself.What was a simple idea on papertook hours to accomplish; I haven'tfinished yet. My deadline pendingon the morrow looks very evil.We have to love the challengethat takes everything we haveand gives little in return. Untilwe master the unsinkable.Grant me the persistence to

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122824853634583292005-07-31T10:40:00.000-05:002005-08-04T16:24:49.423-05:00

Sometimes,my words do more harm than good.I do not mean to inflict pain;I only seek to capture my thoughtsand cleanse my mind accordingly.Sometimes,aloofness prevents me from speakingso I come here and speak to the page.Damage is unmitigated since no cuesarise from the inanimate receiver.Sometimes,it would be better if I didn't feelso much of everyone's' pain. But, I do.If I didn't seek release

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122756988073271422005-07-30T15:45:00.000-05:002005-07-30T15:56:28.086-05:00

The clock ticks away precious momentsthat were once wasted in life's stupor.When tragedy taps our shoulders, lifesuddenly becomes jeweled. Our wealth is determined by the numbering of good days and in outwitting the bad.As he lies in this sterile environment,he doesn't know if tomorrow will come.He knows he wants it to; he knows othersexpect it to--nothing else matters.It is a struggle to make

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122690612875779832005-07-29T21:21:00.000-05:002005-07-29T21:30:12.883-05:00

Last night, I had a dream--Only it seemed to be real.Never before have I woken with such aGnawing sense of foreboding.Damned are the sinnersIn each of us. Damned are theSaints as well. We are given aTaste of medicine called "real life"Answerable only in prayers.Never once did we considerChances that ill would strikeEver so close to home.Hope is all we have to offerUnder the circumstances.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122591214603234522005-07-28T17:41:00.000-05:002005-07-28T17:55:56.443-05:00

Cater to your whimsAfter a long morning's work.Find a friend and grab a chair;Eat healthy or hardy.Take out when time is shortElse the afternoon drags long.Round up the lunchtime crowd,Inspect the new designs,And win a prize or two.Overlooking Prospect now,People watch at will.Enter through glass and gold--Nothing's too good for us.Invite your friends, New and old, to experienceGrand Opening Day!

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122431720722243062005-07-26T21:27:00.000-05:002006-06-02T20:35:35.730-05:00

The light found in sunsetafter the clearing of thunder stormsis eerie in the pinkish castit spreads across the world.Gone is the golden rosy settingwe itched to watch. Gone is the overcastday we hoped to dispel. Left is onlya sense of unreal, disquieting light.The sun still takes its normal path.Darkness still descends upon the hour.After a storm, the arrival on stageis dramatically different.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122328525531059522005-07-25T16:53:00.000-05:002005-07-25T21:28:26.403-05:00

Call me sometime soonEven if together we didn'tShoot stars into your mind;Time might like me better.Later, I'll tell you a secretAlready known by some.Variety is an acquired taste--Intimate in its knowledge,Exempt from being alone.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122153323362907272005-07-23T16:08:00.000-05:002005-07-23T16:16:42.016-05:00

If I fell in love againit would be different from before. I would notallow my heart to lead;my mind must dance a part.My body would not dictatethe lovers I shouldn't want.I need more sustenancethan a row of one night stands. I need something.My toes should not curlat the sight of a fuzzychest. I need to controlthese reactions. I needto control myself.If I fell in love again,I might be better

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122152895796619932005-07-23T16:02:00.000-05:002005-07-24T11:37:43.140-05:00

A sparkle and flashwas all I saw when shepassed me on the street.Curious to know the source,I followed some distance back.I saw the fireworks again.The phenomena came from her handadorned with a rock. Light foundher ring as attractive as I.I was blinded by her elegancebased solely on her hand; neveronce did I look upon her face.Someone thought she was a beautywith a gift the size of that;

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122151167561243442005-07-23T15:28:00.000-05:002005-07-23T15:40:35.770-05:00

As I watched him dance,I could feel heat infusemy face and knew I showeda rosy glow.I stole glances sideways,unwilling to miss gyrationsbut embarrassed to stare;I looked away.I could feel my own bodywanting to join the danceas sensation warmed meto my thighs.My body and mind trembledwith variations in pinkas sweat followed thelines of him.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1122067078359285142005-07-22T16:09:00.000-05:002005-07-22T16:17:58.366-05:00

The drivel I write tangles itself in by brain. It weaves silken webs, intricate in design, but structurallyunsound. The web has collapsed.The inspiration, there one day,becomes obscure the next. Ideasare ephemeral at best. They bleeddeep wounds for superficial words.I have lost my way along the highwayof creativity and yearn for cobbledpaths of imagery. Obscurity blocksthe turn. I have

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121911350635373032005-07-20T20:48:00.000-05:002005-07-22T11:25:38.560-05:00

If I could, I wouldturn back the calendarto a better day for you.I'd erase the tapeand record beautifulvisions to comfort you.Life would be easier, then,for the nightmare you knowwould never have been born.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121910406797153402005-07-20T20:37:00.000-05:002005-07-24T16:25:06.966-05:00

It only takes one,be it a moment, a glance, or a word,to make all the difference.One is the loneliest number...yet, sometimes, one is enough.One moment can alter life and put new meanings on happiness.Some moments last forever.Make it a kodak moment...Capture a picture for a lifetime.One glance can penetrate heartsthrough a sea of anonymous persons.Cupid's arrow will find its mark.Do you believe

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121909824677440552005-07-20T20:30:00.000-05:002005-07-22T12:12:15.770-05:00

A wordless prison captures me.The golden ruler slapped my handand forbade the unheard scream.Take away my tongue and render me mute;I have nothing worthwhile to say.My syllables shrivel and blow away.Caught in the aftermath of blockage,I shiver in unrelieved tension.No one would hear me any way.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121555285820912762005-07-16T17:57:00.000-05:002005-07-16T18:08:05.826-05:00

God cried on me todayand tried to wash awayall of the evil tidings.He sobbed his anguishat what we have becomeand declined comment.History repeats itself in subtle ways and more.We remember the stories.Unlike Noah, an arcwould not save usfrom Dennis or Emily.Every year He repeatsthese savage tantrumssimilar to those fortydays and nights of yore.Every year we thumbour noses at the Almighty.We are

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121525609181057782005-07-16T09:48:00.000-05:002005-07-16T18:09:33.436-05:00

Did I every tell youthat upside down slowlyrights itself when you're in the room?No matter what my problemhappens to be at the time,it becomes less sinisterwhen you're by my side.You are my balm, my medicineto heal all ailments--My band-aid in waitingwhen I need it most.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121393750384852422005-07-14T21:05:00.000-05:002005-07-14T21:15:50.390-05:00

Give me some sanityin a world of none.Turn what's upside downto face inside out.Nothing makes sense.Take what's left of realityand push it squarely through the round holeof eternity.Bury it six feet down.In the eve of yesterdaydawns the memories of tomorrow and todayburns the consciousnessof every single day.

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13093003.post-1121308134339718332005-07-13T21:27:00.000-05:002005-07-16T11:44:39.876-05:00

give me a raspberrythat tastes so sweetand show your contemptfor my ideaswhen we can't take backa moment or wordsfruit registersreaction...acknowledgementspur of the momenta childish tantrumless painful to methan words

Vickiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08573890783110046304noreply@blogger.com2