on the dark side of the mountain
there lived a beautiful short rounded woman
white hair cut close and smiling eyes of brown
skin like caramel candy and arms you just want to be in
she had a voice oh what a voice
and she passed it along to her heirs
she was stricken with grief at the site of her
treasured possession
a mind of her own that child doth have
i'll stand for none of this be still and listen
your heart is pounding to the beat of a different drum
she didn't understand and she cried
the strength of the bear was within her
and the rattle of the monkey on her back
blocked her for many years
and the smile returns upon her face
her smiling eyes still a reminder of who we don't know
and maybe we never will
26mar08
2 comments:
This is a strange, scary, and sad story. "Stricken with grief at the site of her treasured possession" What does that mean?
"i'll stand for none of this"?
"who" like Dr. Who?
Wow! really, really cryptic.
I was always told it was more important to understand, than to be understood. Now, I'm not so sure. Do we ever really understand what we try to communicate?
I've had a not-so-nice life...always getting the shitty end of the stick you might say. When I turned fifty I was hopeing and praying that would change...it didn't, it got worse as a matter of fact. I keep trying, hoping...I never wanted much...then again maybe I did.
Was it Victor Frankel that said,"The worst fate that can befall man is that he should come to think little of himself." Now if you really stop and tear that sentance apart...you can read it so many ways.
Must be in a low moooood. :)
Like I always say, with all this shit...theirs got to be a pony somewhere. ..my shit not yours :)
Awww honey. This was a poem about my bears grandmother who never liked her since she was born but never said why. She is also talented directly from her grandmother - hence 'treasured possession'...I love you. I don't know why I write what I write some times, it just rolls off my fingertips and two minutes later I have a poem, or 30 seconds...
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