Eat Your Heart Out Hallmark!

Thoughts On a Critique of the Word "And" in My Poetry

And this is how I write a poem

And this is how I express myself

And this is how I sing a song

And this is how I kiss you off

And the word "and"

Is a great word

It connects people, places,

And things

Adds them together

Joins one to another

Mom and Pop

Mac and cheese

Life and death

"And" merges the opposites

Black and white

Night and day

And there's a thin line, my friend

Between love and hate

Just try and write

About two people

And never connect them

Tangle their threads

With a knot-shaped "and"

And while you're at it

Try to talk

About you and me

Minus the connection

Then there's just you

And just me

And that's just the way I like it

[If my critic had been more attentive he would have noticed my excessive use of the words "little" and "blood". Ha!]

Bouquet

If you want flowers

I'll go pick you some

But don't expect me to write them

With delicate little petals

Wrapped in charming little rhymes

Tied up with a big alliterative bow

No
I'll write you buckets of slime
Odes to blood lust and sex
I'll draw pictures of my fears
So vivid and real
That they'll become your own
I'll write the last will and testament
Of every battered dream
I've ever had
I'll describe every cut
Every abrasion
Every trip
Every fall
I'll paint the bruises on my ego
Write revolutions on the wall
But I won't write a love poem
Not even one
Not ever
At all
I'll pick you flowers
I'll buy you chocolates
I'll hold your hand
But no love poems
Not ever
At all

Nothing to Offer

Know a boy who listened to Tori Amos
'Cause he thought it would net him more pussy
Know a girl who wore thigh highs and short skirts
'Cause she thought it would showcase her talents
He's miserable
She's miserable
And no one is fallin' in love
They're just falling
Falling down
Falling over
Tripping on their own loneliness
Where it clutters the floor of every room
They walk through
Where it blocks every road
They turn down
With broken toes
And achy hearts
They look everywhere for love
Gas stations
Libraries
Churches
Love isn't lurking anywhere
They leave breadcrumbs behind them
Hoping love will find them
Like hungry little birds
Searching for what they have
Which is nothing
They have nothing
They've done nothing
Been nothing
But looking for love
And now have
Nothing to fall in love with

[This last one is not a recent poem but it sure is fun!]

Goddessness

Tear your heart out
And throw it at my feet
I'm a Goddess
It's mine anyway
I want burnt offerings
I want blood sacrifice
I want
Ev-ree-thing
I want the sweat of your brow
I want the fruit of your loins
And any other biblical allusions
You have hanging around
I want the harvest in the Fall
I want the flowers in the Spring
I want it all
I want
Ev-ree-thing
Give me your first born son
Give me your last red cent
Give me all that you have
All that I want
And then
Give
Me
Some
More
Build me pyramids
Build me temples
Mold me statues
Paint me murals
Make graven images
And a made-for-TV movie
About my life
Worship at my feet
Weep at my altar
I am a Goddess
I will not be trifled with
I will not repeat myself
Do it all
Do it now
Or at least by next Tuesday
I have a doctor's appointment