I'm searching for the nut, the kernel of answer before the curtain falls and the audience leaves. I am the least of the travelers on this strange journey all life takes, yet I cling to life ferociously.
It is Act III now, the plot is well developed and there are some things the heroine, once a playful child, can do no more:
..... kick her foot over her head...
Dash up a flight of stairs, two at a time...
find her soulmate.
But for all of these talents lost, a few have been gained:
I am patient.
I understand, forgive and accept individuals.
I root for the underdog.
But I am dismayed by mankind , and often wish for the world's sake that the sprawling, scratching, scrapping infestation of us, could be gently erased, except for a couple of pipers of tunes.
I have few illusions about myself, except the persistant one that I can write a little, and I climb the ladder to the next poem one slippery rung at a time, stopping often to wonder why. Who cares, but me for this shallow dredging of the mind.
Sunny, my old persona has been swept up and ensconced in a protective shell called Carole, now. She traipses around in there like any 17-year old starved for love and sensation, and Carole, the old woman,
trudges on.
It is Act III now, the plot is well developed and there are some things the heroine, once a playful child, can do no more:
..... kick her foot over her head...
Dash up a flight of stairs, two at a time...
find her soulmate.
But for all of these talents lost, a few have been gained:
I am patient.
I understand, forgive and accept individuals.
I root for the underdog.
But I am dismayed by mankind , and often wish for the world's sake that the sprawling, scratching, scrapping infestation of us, could be gently erased, except for a couple of pipers of tunes.
I have few illusions about myself, except the persistant one that I can write a little, and I climb the ladder to the next poem one slippery rung at a time, stopping often to wonder why. Who cares, but me for this shallow dredging of the mind.
Sunny, my old persona has been swept up and ensconced in a protective shell called Carole, now. She traipses around in there like any 17-year old starved for love and sensation, and Carole, the old woman,
trudges on.
- Last seen on Feb 21 11:32 PM 2008. Member since October 8, 2001.
- I'm a lyric diamond poet for 2,455 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "a dog is a human being perfected.".
- I am a girl (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a galactic hitchhiker.
- I have 2,455 comments, 1 contest, 1 column, 147 poems, 5 stories
My Poetry
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Papyrus flesh,
thumbed out wineskin10 lines, 15 comments, August 2, 2006. In Spiritual -
Reduce the poetry
the downstream flood16 lines, 6 comments, May 9, 2006. In Other -
In deep oceans of words one swift organism describes my life.0 lines, 7 comments, April 4, 2006. In Other
My Stories
1 - 3 of 5
Show all at storywrite
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Twenty-five years ago, I exchanged $40 with a young Mexican man for a tranquilizer that promotes a peaceful, low-impact heart beat while we brazen out the flash floods of our d2321 lines, 14 comments, June 19, 2004. In <200 lines, Spiritual
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In a tragic boating accident this afternoon three post graduate students at New York University drowned when their experimental boat, a large salad bowl capsized in rough water128 lines, 3 comments, May 10, 2004. In <200 lines, Humor
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Photo by Jack Sprat: Porgy sleeping in his jail cell after the incident.
A disturbance on Elm Street this afternoon brought police to the rescue of some sorority girls221 lines, 4 comments, May 10, 2004. In <200 lines, Humor
Guest Book
1 - 4 of 160
Show all
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M.A.King on August 3, 2008hope you are doing ok. *hugs*
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M.A.King on February 14, 2008Sunny, how are you? Have not seen you on in so long. Wishing you goodness.
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j-ay rose on August 6, 2006
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cvillelisa on August 6, 2006
How nice to hear from you --
