Cliché

Rats run a maze.
Dissonance sounds off,
and I’m sick of blue skies
and chocolate covered cherries
and roses…red, of course,
bunched in dozens
with baby’s breath and
white lace ribbons.
I’m just as tired of
scarred flesh and bleeding eyes
and dead Calla Lilies on fresh graves,
white bridal gowns on rotted zombies,
snakes and spiders and
ticks and mice
chewing on humanity.
And the world’s gone to hell
‘cause it doesn’t go your way.
And the brush of your thigh
makes me wet;
it sounds like just another cliché.
But, you know,
I’ll be damned if I have to
prove that one.



Poet’s Exaggeration

Face reality…
    familiarity breeds contempt,
    chocolate molds,
    flowers die.
“Happy ever after”
is a fairy tale.
Life isn’t happy
all the time.
Human nature is such
that you will
take your lover for granted
sometimes.
And after a few years of
toilet seats left up,
nylons drying in the shower,
kids screaming in the night,
borrowed razors,
athlete’s foot,
dirty underwear
    on the floor,
and 10 bouts of
    puking flu,
you’ll have to admit
“romance” isn’t a 24/7 operation.
“Love” is poet’s exaggeration
that can’t be maintain
all the time.

But we can enjoy
tonight.

I started studying writing and poetry at The Cincinnati School for Creative and Performing Arts at the age of 12. Now, I am a happily married mother of two girls living in Northwest Ohio who works for a physician's network. My poetry has appeared in about 43 print/web zines, and I've performed at several places around Toledo over the last several years. I am a member of the rock/spoken word band Logic Alley (www.logicalley.com), and Director of Minstrel Soup Artist’s Coalition.

• grafitti messageboard •