Across The Road The parked cars sit on the street like they are waiting to be used, thirsty for it. The red and yellow trees wait patiently for their children to fall down to earth. The windows crossed like eyes looking back at me from across the oil-stained tar while garbage rolls in the sun, the flies having a field day on so many of our dirty secrets while a single old couch on the corner waits for someone to use it like we do with everything else. So Many Steps I climb you like an adventure so many steps till the top so many steps until I can stop so far I worry that I'll drop I study your skin for signs of abuse running m y hands over the rough flesh. and I try to put myself in your place, in what it would be like to live behind your face. I try to be one with you like no one had before to learn your secrets see what you see from a hundred years before. I let you drink water from my glass and massage your roots until you glow with thanks until I have your acceptance, until I have your praise. I Do Too. The beaver lays in the sun ignoring that fact that he has work to do. I do too. The fish eat the flies from the still surface, ripples forming a picture of you. My mind does too. The frog flop around having clearly forgotten their life as a tadpole. I Wish I could too. But The snakes slither around menacingly promoting their biblical stereotype of being Evil. You do too. Tainted Eyes You are callused, from being emotionally stained. You're blistered/ From being physically tainted. rough, dry, but that is all in my head. Playing cards, you take your chances. Risky girl. Risking it all. Like so much water in the ocean. On islands so far deserted. You'd throw your diamond into the water, just to dive in and find it. But why would you risk it all, when you could have a mediocre life, and why would you give it up, without a fight/ and you glance at me, glaring at my audacity, yeah you glare at me, looking without speaking. but thinking your words at me, through tainted eyes. Untitled I see you and you automatically think I'm high as a kite, yeah a cavity in a candy store, but I'm a kite without wind, and the store has closed down for good. I used to soar above the cliffs, used to hear the wind whir, listen to the streetcars, and the city's purr. But the clouds were suffocation, and even if I said I wouldn't give up, I would. And my mother brought me to that store, licked my lips in anticipation, but that store burned to the ground and there isn't another one around, for miles.
Poetry Activities
Friday, Oct. 17, 2003 1:10 p.m.
Poetry Activities I did For School:
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