For J

Blatantly imagine the turn you could have taken
purposely compose those pictures in your mind
I cannot forget the places I have traveled
you are very lucky that you can leave those thoughts behind

Once upon a long-lost time I tried to please the crowd
but they never noticed I was there
You had hoped that things would work out differently than this
now somehow you've learned how not to care

That night is gone and I've gone away
You're just a thought- I didn't ask you to stay
and I'm thinking about later on...
I don't care what happened yesterday
no regrets...

Now you're older and seem colder than you treated me
The sands of time fall faster than you do
I have seen you stumble and grasp for surrounding air
Just another memory to forget to you.

That night is gone and I've gone away
You're just a thought - didn't ask you to stay
and I'm thinking about later on...
I don't care what happened yesterday
no regrets...

Think back to the time, do you want to move on?
My strength comes from today and not from yesterday...

That night is gone and I've gone away
You're just a thought - didn't ask you to stay
and I'm thinking about later on...
I don't care what happened yesterday
no regrets...

I'm not going back, my throne is right here waiting
the King of my own world I plan to be
Do I miss the past as much as I miss summer?
Without the winter chill my soul is free.
July 7, 1998

To Break Free

Beneath the violated limbs I sleep.
The hour late, and I cannot help but to bring reservations.
My marionette actions ignored purposely;
they must not be recalled later.
Although useful, I appear worthless in flight.
Lift me above worth, above stretched suppression.
To the stars with my wings, infinitely beyond these branches.
The stardust filters past my feathers.
I resist the atmosphere; the swirling clouds block the view of home.
Greater pressure, more strength
lone will must be enough without apprehension.
I fly, I soar...
My cage now forgotten.
July 1, 1998

Judgement

Wisely, I am not the world's whore.
Therefore, I am not yours.
Sometimes I wish you were no longer here anymore,
you might revel in the freedom.
When I reach the end of the corridor,
you may not be there.
Dangerously, I would miss you.
Others know what is best for me.
I ponder their omnipotence.
Usually, I long to agree,
however, you are wrong.
When darkness falls on the moment of truth,
I measure by my judgment.
Written as if all were aloof,
I push you out of my mind with words.
Laying on my resting place of thorns,
I roll over to your likeness.
From the world my heart has been torn,
Therefore, I am not yours.
July 1, 1998

Youth

Too early
Maybe not long enough for you.
Time passes, but discollaborated and weak,
I miss your presence,
much like her.

Is it her? Or the date?
or me?
I hope I cannot blame the latter.
although it probably will never matter.
I'm letting go of dreams I had hoped to gather,
I know I must.

Soon I will be old,
often the cause of change.
My heart is slowly growing cold;
I don't want to let go...
I will be aware of the world;
I hope also of you.

Innocence is fresh for you;
I'm remembering and reenacting.
My beliefs and hopes are true,
although futile.

Faded, inaccurate images of union
draw my attention to the door.
Incomplete emotions
fall to the floor.

I'm holding the memory close to my existence
although you are only a part of the memory now.
Importance depends upon the instance,
and you instantly touched my soul...
June 31, 1998

People Watching

a job with nothing to do
mind racing trying to
think of something to
occupy time
leaving-pretending to
go somewhere important
to waste away an hour
or more
dinner break will be
a long one
maybe i'll also leave
early
but what will mom
think if i'm home?
hidden behind a large
display so I am
not on display again
like last time
like every time at
a job with nothing to do
a rainy day when hair
is important
getting a chair so my
legs will not ache so
praying that an hour
will fade quickly
writing to get rid of
more time at
a job with nothing to do
talk to the good-looking
man who works at the
store in the office-
the one i asked for the chair
cardboard surrounding me
a setup with a girl much more
beautiful than i-
and better hair
talking to scary workers
and old men
and young guys
who tell me she has better hair,
but i'm beautiful
and i'm working too
hard because i'm at
a job with nothing to do
someone save me from the
stockboy! maybe i
have become snobby
modeling (even if it is pro-mo)
scared of these people
with stupid comments
"are you giving manicures today?"
thinking that they should
leave please go away
only old women- do they
use pantene?
one woman with an elder-fro
asking if i sell anything made for white hair
sure i do
i'll go find it because i'm working at
a job with nothing to do
1998

The lake

As the ripples emanate from my fingertips,
the fragrant stars waver,
as my thoughts.
Mists over the calm water darkness rise.
I lean farther to sift them through my fingers.
My limbs ache for the cool liquid to surround
but I still obey, ease toes in- legs dangling.
Safe from the infinite current.
Sailing away on this firmly anchored dock.
It is only the water moving by naked calves-
I know.
Yet I'm traveling- some direction infinitely now.
Down? Sinking as my shell floats unaware?
Drowning must resemble this thumping urge
of helplessness.
My surroundings no different than the pounding
warm, red liquid in my temples.
My surroundings are clotting suddenly
and I give in...
July 8, 1997

Summer Plans

I'm naked in my bed
again
incense filling the room
odor
sweet night perfume floats
away
tomorrow to finish packing the blue
milkcrates
bring the ripped tu-tu and leave sweet
dreams
tomorrow is the end of before
life
from the stage to the auditorium
balcony
shower with the friends I'm leaving
behind
locker room to cabin
bunk
one week and they will all be
here
June 8, 1997