Harvey

What is it like
to spread your wings and fly?
I often wonder as I see you in flight
against the azure skies.
Then I look into your eyes
Harvey,
you set my soul on fire.
As I watch you fly
my thoughts go with thee,
Oh Harvey.
When you're on my arm
the world can't ever harm
me, Harvey.
You're so beautiful
with your bright red plumes;
I just can't get enough of you.
You're the one for me
you're all I'll ever need
and I'll have your loyalty
as long as I feed
you Harvey.


Yes, this is totally about a bird from my beloved show, the one that I wrote about back in....October? Harvey is my boyfriend; all the trainers know this and they are ok with it. I wrote out a copy of this poem for the trainers and they have it posted on their mini fridge. And yes, I totally read it to my boo and he seemed to like it.

Your Eyes

The blue skies
have nothing on your eyes.
I wish I had realized
that, to myself, I lied
when I said "Just one night".

Now every night
awake I lie
and see your eyes.
But I won't cry,
no, I can't cry
because the memory of that night
lingers in my mind
and I can't help but smile.

Dream poem

I dreamed about him last night;
It's been so long since the last time.

I called his name and ran
I couldn't face that man.

Despite the reality:
despite that he's married
despite that we went our separate ways
he quickened his pace.

My running feet
turned into the monastery.
The gravel crunched
as walls crumbled
and I hoped to navigate
this stoney garden
and circumvent this fate.

There was no telling when
he stopped his pursuit
or if my plan had borne fruit.
I stopped and peered around a corner.
There he stood, as if waiting for me.

The alarm chimed
and brought me back to modern time.

The Wasted Land

*Note- It helps if you've read T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land"


Every Saturday the same people
walk into the same bar.
Same fucking people,
week after week; and I among them.
Wasting time.
Wasting life.
Wasting money.
I swear the same songs are played
week in, week out.
Why do they do this?
Why do I do this?
Wasted opportunity.
I regret every decision that led me to this wasted land.
Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Blood is like wine.
Couples.  Count them.
One, two, three.
How long have they been together?
Love. Lust. Whatever. Everyone's favorite damn disease.
Do you know who I am? Sitting across the room.
I'm the girl in the hat and trenchcoat.
So vintage.
Come to me lover, buy me a drink.
Get me wasted. I'm in this wasted land; might as well join in.
I don't have a million dollars to spend.

I see her across the bar.
If she's one of them, she's cute.
Blonde, tattooed. Like you.
My virgin skin, no stories on the surface.
Her stories, skin deep. Like yours.
Competition is a waste.
Of time.
Of money.
Of energy.

The music keeps this place as silent as a concert.
No chatter drifting to the farthest corner where I sit.
Dead place.
Why do I keep coming?
Look the part of the french writer, sitting, making believe she is Eliot.
Eliot wasn't French.

Oh fuck off and play along.

Yeah fat bitch, I'm skinny, young and better looking.
And you have a man.
Ce la vie.
I'll take my independence and run.
Lo que paso, paso entre tu y yo.
She doesn't need to know.
So glad you don't kiss and tell and I don't know her.
Works out nicely.

Sinking deeper in the muck and grime and shit of every day living.
Pour me another, Lover.
Help me get wasted. FTW.

God this music is at least ten years old.
"Off the chain"
There's something you don't hear anymore. Middle school.

What shitty years.
Sitting alone at lunch.....Fuck, don't point out the irony.

And there they all sit
like nighthawks living out their individual little lives.
Lovers will be loved.
Friends will gossip.
The lonely will always try and look preoccupied with a life that occurs
anywhere but here.

A small crowd begins to form around the bar.
Two and a half hours till last call.
How many drown their wasted lives at the bottom of a Bud Light?

Pinky swear? Pinky swear.
She's deep in the wasted land.
I can tell as she twirls herself around in her bar stool.

Slash's guitar solo in "Sweet Child of Mine" sounds like sexual ecstasy.
Those few minutes before orgasm.
Oh Lover. If only I didn't work tomorrow morning.
If only she wasn't here.
I want you in my bed.
I want you inside me.
And  just as suddenly, the moment passes and I'm left in the Wasted Land.

I wanna be your lover.
So appropo.

Close me out.
Get me out of this Wasted Land.
I can't stand this noise much longer.
The looks.
They look at me like I don't belong.
Please don't look at me.
No, look at me. Make me feel like I exist.
Have I wasted away here?

When the lights out, it's less dangerous.
Turn out the lights!
Go to bed!
Leave the Wasted Land.
Until next week.

Corner Bar

If I had to guess
as to your whereabouts
on any given Saturday night,
well, knowing you as I do
I'd say you were at that old corner bar.

No, I can't say you're a drunk,
who needs a fix of whiskey and Guinness
although honey I've had my doubts.
But on any given night
I would bet my life you're crooning
at that old corner bar.

I remember the first time I heard you sing
coulda sworn my heart would melt
as you sung our story through Mrs. Jones,
and on any given Saturday, it's Sinatra or Queen.
Songs of love but never for me
at that old corner bar.

It all started as a harmless fling
and I didn't mind what I'd been dealt,
even though my friends didn't condone
I really like being your arm candy.
You were the king of kareoke
at that old corner bar.

Weekend after weekend we'd spend
lying in each others arms
and lying to the world about us.
But you kissed me one day
and the secret was out.

I thought your mystery would end
I'd no longer be a card
and this would be more than lust.
I was wrong, it ended in May.
All of my dreams never came about.

I went back one last time
to that old corner bar
hoping to see you one last time.
You pulled me close and kissed me
"Goodbye" at that old corner bar.

I'm a thousand miles
from that old corner bar.
I'm doing just fine
and I've found a new corner bar.
There's just one thing it needs.

Writing and a Top 10 Dating List

I've been writing a lot lately. Eventually, I'll get around to posting the poems, but for right now, I can't help but wonder why. I probably shouldn't question why my muse has decided to bless me at this time, but a comment from one of my readers has me wondering if I really am in love. Even I can't deny I do most of my writing when I'm in love, whether I'm happily in love or not is irrelevant, that's when I write. But who I am in love with is a mystery even to myself. I gave up on the director who gave me my first costuming gig. And I can't even bring myself to talk to the guy from work with the beautiful blue eyes. Besides, he has a girlfriend. And no, I haven't met anyone even remotely worthwhile to date. All the good looking guys that are interesting have girlfriends. Everyone else is ugly, fat, in a relationship, has kids, and/or  not ambitious.
So, this post is a list post about all the qualities I want/don't want in a guy.
1) Must be ambitious
2) Must be educated and speak well
3) Must be financially stable and able to support himself
4) Must take care of himself (no more fat guys!)
5) Must have many hobbies and interests
6) Must live on his own
7) No kids/ baby mommas
8) Preferably funny
9) "Live for today and prepare for tomorrow" mentality
10) 21+

It's high time I learned from my biggest mistake which is looking for qualities that just aren't there. Here is a list of qualities that I am looking for and I shouldn't settle for anything less.