(2014)
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
If I could draw a tree In all it’s complexity Would you be impressed? If I could draw a human face It would be but a trace
If I was in a beauty pageant My talent would be 'Lefty who writes upside-down’ Beside the contestant Who burps her ABC’s
It’s not pretty When I cry People get almost as embarrassed as I
Tomorrow Has not yet come It’s promises yet to be broken Tomorrow Is bigger
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray
Filler words Put me to sleep Added to cushion Take away my pillow Blunt words to wake up
Traffic Irritation becomes a nightmare As the lines start to squiggle Bending in and out And the world starts its attack
How do you measure pain? All is relative and personal Even with one’s own self It is impossible to compare As memory distorts pain
When the emotion comes up It feels like heartburn Like acid Clenching my throat My ears go watery
Steamroller Of life Passed by Feeling down Squished
I crave stability Neither wandering spirit Nor home-body Yes I’d love to travel But the foundation
Turkey and dressing Loud and overwhelming Opinions and food fly Green bean casserole Too much laughter
My objective is selfish Not to share or be heard To get it out and move on No one seems to hear my pain No one seems to feel my pain
Good secret Bubbles inside Let me out Bad secret Indigestion