how the Jack-O-Lantern feels

They carved me out today
Took out my guts and my brain
But on the upside they gave me eyes and a mouth
One with a shocked expression which I guess you could say is valid
Since that’s how I feel about this
Shocked
Shocked that they took my insides and baked them into pie
Took my seeds and roasted them
But at least I can see.

Under Where?

Underneath our layers of cotton
We hide secrets
Undisclosed treasures that only a few people know about
Some people hide dirty mysteries
Skeletons beneath the material.
Some are code and not what they seem
That’s classified information
One question remains
Can you keep a secret?

Abundance

Every year I think I get ten more
Grandma knits them
Mother buys them
I have more scarves than a zoo has animals
Draped on the door hanger
They appear like pelts
In various colors
Pinks, greens, blues to name a few
Or stuffed in a bin that doesn’t quite contain them all
No matter how you look at it
I just have too many scarves.

Dear Scott Stapp

I would like to punch you in the face
square in the jaw
the way you sing
gets under my skin
you are pretending to be
(even though you say you're not)
Eddie Vedder
you do not do him justice
when creed broke up
my world was perfect
you wanted to do a solo album
it failed and I smiled
your band mates moved on
started a new band
jealous of their success
like a bad boyfriend whos relationship went south
you wanted them back
"remember the good times?" you said
"remember human clay?"
you couldn't stand to see them
Happy
with someone else
you ruined my world the day I found out
creed was back together

Kix

He sat there in his old faded blue felt chair
Wearing the same coveralls he was always in
With the same Munson seed’s cap
Calling me in front of him
He would ask me in a businesslike manner
“Would you like some Kix, I’ve got some here behind my chair”

Excited by the prospect of yet another breakfast
I would forget that he did this to me just an hour ago
I wasn’t by any means a gullible child
I just liked breakfast cereal.
And I had the memory of a Goldfish

I would shriek and giggle and exclaim
“YES! Bumpa I would LOVE some Kix!!”
To this he would reply, always
“Well then turn around and I’ll get them out.”
Obediently I did so
He would then proceed to kick me (gently) in the butt.


In loving memory of my Bumpa

Sleepy Eyed

With each page I open a new world
delving deeper into something new
seeing the world through my eyes
i am swept away to somewhere different
i am no longer boring
but fun and exciting
not wanting to stop
i could do this for hours
but i am flawed as a human
my eyes grow heavy
wishing i could keep them open
i try for a few more words
but the book falls from my fingers
i am asleep
and i have lost my page

Mr. French and Me

an impromptu dance party
thrown by myself
attended only by my cat
he is quite the dancer
he likes when i sing to him
jumping along with me
to the beat of our own drum
eventually he grows tired
and lays down
curled up in a ball or posed like snoopy
i have tuckered him out
keeping on by myself
i still sing to him
but now, being the cat he is
he stares at me like,
"lady, what is wrong with you?"

Soaked

Seeping in through two pairs of pants
the water makes my feet wrinkly
everything is squishy
the sound of shoes on tile floor
reminds me of elementary school.
the squeaking bringing someone new
time has passed now
and rain has become a not so fun occurrence
people flit through building after building
to hopefully save their shoes
but all is lost
your shoes are bound to get wet
why not just jump in?

Lines

The yellow lines are meant for safety
Don’t pass when it’s solid
pass when its dotted
Or, do what you want

Pass when it’s solid
Pass when it’s dotted
The white rimmed signs are optional

The SeaBed

An ocean of seaweed
Welcomes you into its soft folds
Awash in a sea of green
Sinking down into the depths of the brown
Fully immersed in an ocean of color
A reef of petina coral
Rises from the bottom
The Orange catfish pounces on your face
All the while you smile
From atop your sea bed

Bruised

The apple has just survived a fight
A fight to reach the top of the pile
To go home first
Little does it know that someone
A tall lengthy starving someone
Plans to devour its sweet inside
The apple tastes like a climb up a tree…
The fight was won after all.

Zoo of Chaos

At a concert of exploding balloons
a small girl
eyes wide with wonderment.
she watches the merry-go-round
its a carnival
of colors, lights, music
chipping plastic horses,
and flaking majestic lions.
it spins round and round
as the menagerie of plastic animals
dip up and down.
the merry-go-round is a joyous romp
for this young girl,
whose world is a zoo of chaos

Footies

Scratched and fading

Piles of things are scattered about the floor

Diaper wipes, a baby mobile, a fake house plant

The table, piled with papers, and children’s clothes

Two small girls sit in a fading tan chair with a green bowl

One in pink and the other in cherry red footie pajamas

One has hair down to her knees

The other has the appearance of the little Dutch boy.

The photo taker wanted to capture a moment between sisters

A sad expression gazes at the camera.

Wondering why are you taking a photo, and not making me more popcorn.

Walking In Pardeeville

The Clouds Swirl
Thunder rumbles in the distance
we have done something to anger Zeus
Lightning going off like a camera flash
the wind picks up, threatening to carry me away with it
Mist sprinkles my face
turning the corner we see the real storm
sheets of rain fall in the distance
chips of hail strike us like bee bee's
running, breathless and laughing
Drenched, splashing along
flip flops turned out to be a marvelous idea
Laughter trickles freely
Happiness flows through me

Forgetfulness

Information is like water through a sifter to my brain
I don’t remember where I put my shoes
I can’t find this or that
Racked my brain tries to remember where I put said item
It is harder for my brain, than algebra would be for a 2-year-old child
Focus is not a trait I carry
It gets lost along with the other possessions
They are all somewhere together
Laughing secretly at me
Thinking how much fun they are having
While I run around looking
What was I talking about again?

the scariest of monsters

A big scary monster runs in circles
Chasing his tail.
He is not a bright monster
Laughing on the sidelines
I watch, hoping he will not notice me
But he does, every time
With a prance, and a side step
He leaps at me, latching on with his teeth
I giggle and scream at the same time
For after all this big scary monster
Is just a tiny kitten

Hollywood

Time slips away like water from a leaky faucet
We try to keep on times good side
Makeup and Botox become the norm
We become like everyone else
Copies, walking clones of one another
We don’t want to be who we are
We hide it, behind powder and sticky black goop
Morphing into another we are able to be truly ourselves
Fake is the new black.

Writers Block

The mind, is a curious place

Boxes upon Boxes stacked in a cavern

Trying to find the right one

Stuck, in the caves of the mind

Wandering for hours

Seemingly lost forever

Little black boxes tumbling down on you

A light from the right

Just a thin sliver of light

The cavern is no longer dark

Crashing in the light appears

A bubbling of words forms at the back of the cavern

Then rushing forward they push you out

The cork at the front of the mind released

Words flow onto the page

A new poem formed

Creep

The monster creeped yesterday
after staring in my broken picture
visions of magic mountains
the perfect beauty rescued
tomorrow bring love together

The moonchild

Happy Moon Crashing
Advancing at a smooth dark sky
Discovering Delirious Music
swim to create frantic shadows
soft thunder cloud closes in
A fresh blue rain surrounds my time

Monsoon

I feel it again
An overwhelming urge to let the salt
water fall
the clouds are rolling in
shadows hug my mind
the thoughts return
thoughts I though I'd buried
The rain falls
softly at first
but I can feel it coming
the thunder chimes in
its pouring in my head
an emotional monsoon

The Green Forest

Through the Green Forest she spots it.
Lurking...
Waiting for her...
Destiny is about to be settled
her time as a wanderer over
Destiny brought her here
to the Green forest
Life altered forever after this moment
Destiny is waiting.

I'm on a boat

This was inspired by Frank and I's love for "I'm on a boat, by lonely Island"
Shortay
Were on a boat
Climbin buoys
Not Trees
T-pain Came along
His musical melodies
wooing the nearest Mermaid
Poisden, god of the sea
Had to look
We were making noise
Muthafucka
someday we'll fly this boat
straight to the moon,
and never look back.
A galactic cruise.
Just like Kevin Garnett
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!
Sh-sh-Shortay!

Growing up

Its time to grow up
the second star to the right is dim
time to put away the teddy bear
no more dress up
time to dress up for real
thimbles are just thimbles
pixie dust wont help you fly
peter has forgotten you
you leave the window unlocked
but he doesn't come back
there you stand
still upon a road
a split forms in front of you
one takes you back
one takes you forward
life must go on
think a happy little thought

The Girl with the Orange Umbrella

For Jackie-
Rain, Pitter patter
it falls down
upon the sleek blades of grass
the earth drinks it in
most people are afraid of rain
afraid when it falls
but the rain will come anyways
rain is cleansing
we need to let it fall
in the midst of the rain
an orange umbrella rises
a speck on the far horizon
letting us know, everything will be alright
after the rain

Peter pan

Wheels of life are turning
Round and round
Things are changing, I am growing up
I am no longer in Never Never Land.
I can’t go back; I need to face the world
The world of grownups;
The world I feared when I was a Kid
Pant suits, and tied shoes.
Can’t I just go back to onsies and Velcro shoes?
Things were simpler as a child
Food was provided for you,
Clothes were provided for you,
All you needed to do was look cute
Well this isn’t a fairy tale
And I am no longer peter pan

Ode to Michael Connaughton

Laughing about some joke,
that no one else understands.
pondering questions,
that appear rhetorical.
nodding slowly,
while thinking to yourself.
talking about events,
that happened in your past.

things pass through your students ears,
that do not stick.
Robots who power down,
during your class.
They do not care about
what you have to share.

Knowledge stored away
trying to pass it down.
But your students do not care
what a sad day to be a professor.

Sunglasses

Over the course of my life I have been through
my share of sunglasses.
most are lost,
perhaps to the sunglasses gnome.
collecting them for his wall.
some are stepped on,
sat on,
drove over.
the lens is missing from that one,
so and so has that one,
these hurt my head
these pull my hair
the cat got those ones
these are for vacations only
those are yours
these pull out my eyelashes
those don't block out the sun.
I have never owned a pair
for more than six months

Iamyouareweare

I am a carpet waiting to fly
You are more dramatic than Shakespeare
We are as different as a bear and a kitten.

I am a doormat being stepped on
You are sugar too sweet for your own good
We are leaves on a tree, one falls, and the others follow.

I am a shoe searching for my mate
You are air, breathed fresh into my asthmatic lungs
We are like animals in a zoo, different but all in one place.

I am a sheep lost among the others
You are as painful as five shots in the arm
We are weeds in a garden popping up everywhere

Garlic

You press against your paper skin
Like a hand, poised to punch.
Impossibly strong.
You protect me from what I fear
A silent death in the Dark of the night
Although you smell
I will always keep you close.

Winsted

Tucked between Highway 7 and Highway 55
Is a small town
You’ve probably never heard of
Unless you listen to country music.

People come, but only in the summer.
And mainly for the music
But it helps that there are 5 bars
In this small town

People rarely go to the beach
But I don’t blame them
What with the chiggers and the dead fish
The only place to get a good pizza
Is the gas station

The largest spot in town
Is the cemetery

Welcome to Winsted

Red Fox

Red fox has the night.
Sprinting with my Dreams

I chase him
Scampering without breath

Red Fox has the sky
Dashing with the stars

He is faster than me
I Cannot catch him

Red Fox has my hopes
Fleeing into the distance

Pet Rock

Like an ill formed skittle
Different from the others
Cast aside
Picked up by a little girl
Rubbed for relief
Cast aside again
Left alone for years.
Then, like a red flame among the ice.
It is spotted
Picked up again
Cradled in a palm
Nestled in a pocket
It has found where it belongs.

Fourth Grade

I will always remember that day.
The day I decided that Topple™
Was more important; then going to the bathroom.
I give myself credit.
That was the longest I’d ever held it
But I had held it too long
Rushing to the sign out post, not quick enough
That tingling feeling hit me
And a puddle appeared on the floor
My face turned a deep mottled red.
I cried a deep wail.
Escorted out of the room; down the hall
To the nurses office
She had to loan me shorts.
I was so embarrassed they sent me home.
I will always remember that day in fourth grade.

Dreams

Gorgeous Death is Eternity
Leave Never
Embrace tomorrow
Come fly Vast Spaces
Blind Language Symphony
Spread the Luscious purple Corduroy
Almost Flower Broken Tree

Dark

Your smile reminds me of a crocodile

Waiting to snap me in half between your jaws

You’re the vampire in the night

Waiting to put me in a dreamless sleep

You’re the demon

Who haunts my foot steps

You are the darkness

Enveloping all

But I am the light.

Ode to the Emo

Delicate young emotion
Sweet love with smoke
prisoner of produce
crisp moment of dirt
journey through present
deep hate

Willow Tree

Leaves Like Fingers reach down for me
Not strong enough to pick me up
Everything is alright up in the big tree
I cried for hours when I found out
My Father, had not and was not coming home
up I climbed, til I could not go up anymore
There I sat, Hiding from view
Seeing the world through blurred vision
when I climbed down I left part of me there
up in the Willow Tree
My Childhood sits among the leaves

Shadows on the sun

My time here is running out.
I am Fading like a sunset.
But I will not be back tomorrow morning.
I go to join the others
Who have went before me
The Shadows on the Sun.

Sea of the Forsaken

Wisps of Dreams long Forgotten
They Shroud the Moon on a
Pitch Black Night
Floating in the sea of the lost

Waiting for their turn to be claimed
Hoping this time they make it.
Not wanting to go back.
To swim the deep oceans of time.

April Fool's

March has decided
In its own way
To play a prank
On Minnesota

It let us taste spring
Melting
Creating large puddles
Splashing

As quickly as spring came
It slunk away
To hide
To sleep some more

The snows returned
Mocking us
Not wanting us to move it
It sticks to the ground in a protest

And March smiles
April Fools Minnesota

Bob Ross

Secret Bushes, Happy trees
And one big Afro.
What most people believe to be a painter

I do not paint happy trees.
I do not hide bushes.
And I most certainly do not have an afro.
Landscapes, skyscapes, cloudscapes, moonscapes.
Tossed in my basement
My work gathers Dust about it
Wrapping it like a blanket

Here I sit one last time
Painting a Vedute
It will go to join the others
In my graveyard of landscapes.

Imaginary

Like Christopher Robin
You have Imagined your very own
Hundred Acre Wood

We are all Imaginary

Time passes in your life
with the help of your imaginary pals
life turns on a point
the point of your life.

We are all imaginary

we talk to you
and make you feel great
but you have to remember
We are all Imaginary

We cannot jump in front of a bullet
it would pass through us
we cant save you from harm
We cannot do anything unless you imagine it
Because

We are all Imaginary
and you created us.

Earth

Cradled within Nature
The trees hug me back
Grass closes in around me
Scents Wander up my nostrils
Lilac, Wood, Earth
Breathing slowly
Smelling them all
Birds chirp and swoop above me
as I lay here
in this grove.

Soaking in everything
the colors are bright here
duller in the city.
Brown Barks
Green Grass and Leaves
Bright blue sky
and the Red breasted Robin

I myself become part in this
Growing roots, reaching down
Down into this earth

Blank

My mind has gone
Blank, Dull, thoughtless
Nothing lives there.
Nothing stirs
time passes slowly.

Darkness is closing in.
No longer can I fight it.
Time has come for me.
Stealing away my thoughts
taking me into the dark

Ramble

On and on you talk
Grumble, cough EXCLAMATION!
then trudge forward again.
No one cares
half the class asleep.
Grumble, Cough, EXCLAMATION?
Trudge on.
still no one cares.
it is hard to make people care about nothing
Grumble, cough,EXCLAMATION!?
just trudge forward

Wooden Spoons of Dread

CRACK! tears begin
Wooden spoons contacting denim
I remember the sound
I remember the pain
I even remember the shape left behind.

She couldn't use plastic.
it snapped
split in two
rubber spatulas
they just wouldn't do.

it had to be wood.
sturdy, rough.
leaving that lasting imprint
on my backside

I am still afraid
of wooden spoons.
I cannot touch them,
and refuse to pick them up.

the coarseness of the handle
rubs against my consciousness
grating, moving along.

the memory of the wooden spoon
left splinters in my mind.