Rough Draft

I would like to thank fellow Long Island poet, Peter V. Dugan for the title to this poem. Also, I still haven't decided if I am making this poem longer or keeping it as is. As always, tell me what you think. Thank-you in advance. ;)

rough draft

sketches in words

paintings and ink

the brain fandangos

and the gears of the mind move in time

while the hand waltzes with the pen

gently gliding across the page

blending in, loose ends fading into the background

the focal point—a single “the”

that winds the entire story around “it,”

draws the reader in

and the eyes wander from word to word,

brush stroke to brush stroke

paying fine attention to detail

and then the fuller picture emerges

Ode to My Allergies

No this is not in true ode form. lol. Quick back story to this poem: I was talking to fellow Long Island Poet, Jay Jii, and I was talking about my allergies. He said I should write a poem about it. So I did. This was the end result.

Ode to My Allergies

Morning breaks and I start coughing

A sign of what's to come

My nose runs the Boston Marathon

No stretching beforehand, it just takes off

Looks back at me, the great Sphinx

And runs further away

Until right before the finish line

It slows down and backs up

Glues itself in place

And causes a traffic jam in my sinuses...

I open my mouth to speak

Only nothing comes out

I haven't a voice

And I admit to some that's a blessing

I clear my throat

I sound like a cat hacking up hairballs

I take a Benedryl, which completely knocks me out..

I wake up and I start coughing again

And then one eye starts to itch

I take a tissue and dab it

Waterfalls emerge from my tear ducts

As if my heart had been broken

Onions look at me and start to cry

Someone asks me “what's wrong?”

To which I reply with a hefty sneeze

And they answer their own question

“Oh it's just your allergies.”

c2011 Lady Samantha

Be Quiet

Be Quiet

I'm dreaming,

laying on the forest floor

Treetops

keeping me calm and cool

I look up as the sun dances through the openings,

making shadows and designs all around me

I listen

to the trees that foster the heartbeat of the Earth,

as they sway in the wind to the rhythms of the Universe

In every direction

There's a new wind blowing,

singing a song

even though we march to the beats of different drummers.

I'm feeling

intoxicated by it all,

overwhelmed by the prospects of my imagination

That's where I get lost the most,

escaping to the far reaches of an ever contracting and expanding Universe

I dive into the creativity head-on

The light bulb turns on

The sun is in my head

illuminating my curiosity.

If you listen carefully

you can hear my thoughts

as they bounce into outer space and back

radio waves of thoughts

flying low to the ground

exploding like firecrackers

bombarding the people with a new sound.

The compass needle is going every which way

but I am not lost here on the forest floor

The scene is changing and I with it

Hopefully for the better.

Time is fleeting

a second ago I was born

and now I am reborn... again

I like this Renaissance of me

learning the old, bringing it into the new

still liking to write, but will settle for Roman type

on a computer that looked very familiar to me

many hundreds of years ago.

And the birds fly by

and offer me a ride

to somewhere they promise is just as fantastic

as where I am now

I pay by check but my

money is no good here said the dolphin on the wing

Go slow I said because man was not made to take off

Yet my imagination flies.

The waterfalls are rushing

as I meditate on the calmness of the pools they form

and I dive in naked,

my thoughts are bare for all to see

some divine illusion by divine illumination

divine proportion, my eye was drawn in

to the center of my own world

in my own time

and a bed that looks quite restless

My head hits the pillow

faster than the speed of sound

I come back down...

Be quiet.

c2011 Lady Samantha