Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Book Seller
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Things I Remember
He pulled up.
Driving her car.
Cool as a cucumber.
No long explanations.
I got in the back seat.
We went to his dad's place.
He put a record on.
Smiled at me.
Softened his eyes.
I froze with desire.
Stared at his lips.
The jazz was good.
Horns filled my ears.
The second hand paused.
Moments too short.
He left the room.
Now time to go.
Hurt and confused.
Still wanting more.
My heart sank fast.
It waxed the floor.
Driving her car.
Cool as a cucumber.
No long explanations.
I got in the back seat.
We went to his dad's place.
He put a record on.
Smiled at me.
Softened his eyes.
I froze with desire.
Stared at his lips.
The jazz was good.
Horns filled my ears.
The second hand paused.
Moments too short.
He left the room.
Now time to go.
Hurt and confused.
Still wanting more.
My heart sank fast.
It waxed the floor.
Lonely
Lonely tucks me
in each night,
rubs my feet,
bares my thighs,
makes me blush,
wells my eyes,
rolls me over,
tends my lines,
feeds me fruit,
straight from the vine.
Lonely keeps me
satisfied.
in each night,
rubs my feet,
bares my thighs,
makes me blush,
wells my eyes,
rolls me over,
tends my lines,
feeds me fruit,
straight from the vine.
Lonely keeps me
satisfied.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Wishing
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
Waking Up
The greatest thing
is waking up
brushing teeth
washing up
not feeling crazy
not feeling blue
not feeling hazy
without you.
no butterflies
no late night cries
no over-eating
apple pies.
no sipping tea
to calm my nerves
no living like
I'm on the verge.
no watching re-runs
in the bed
no counting sheep
inside my head.
The bottom line?
I'm over you.
I'm riding waves
in Honnolu!
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
is waking up
brushing teeth
washing up
not feeling crazy
not feeling blue
not feeling hazy
without you.
no butterflies
no late night cries
no over-eating
apple pies.
no sipping tea
to calm my nerves
no living like
I'm on the verge.
no watching re-runs
in the bed
no counting sheep
inside my head.
The bottom line?
I'm over you.
I'm riding waves
in Honnolu!
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
She
Never mind
The corpse you see
Strapped to my back;
She’s been with me
Since I was about Four.
Though she stinks
Something awful,
She’s really quite lovely...
Cherokee cheekbones,
Ripe apple lines,
Cinnabar skin,
Warm cocoa irises
And a watercolor smile
That took her places
Around the world!
She’s had tea with kings
In England, Italy, China
Liberia, Turkey, Serbia
And even Mars.
Birds still sing
Her praises!
“Ti voligio bene!”
“Nup nola!”
“čokoláda dèvōjka!”
The geishas have nothing
Over her.
She’s played pianos, flutes
And horns of various sizes
---And oh, not to mention
Her skills in art;
She could make a man
Stand still
---for hours.
Though she doesn’t look it now,
She was quite an
Impressionist
In her day.
“Intelligence senza
Arrogance”---ah!
This made her canvas
So Matisse!
So Rothko!
So O’Keefe!
Let me stop on that note;
She always hated
Rambling---even still,
I really miss her,
My pitiful little bird.
She spoke a million languages
Yet never said a...
Word.
Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
The corpse you see
Strapped to my back;
She’s been with me
Since I was about Four.
Though she stinks
Something awful,
She’s really quite lovely...
Cherokee cheekbones,
Ripe apple lines,
Cinnabar skin,
Warm cocoa irises
And a watercolor smile
That took her places
Around the world!
She’s had tea with kings
In England, Italy, China
Liberia, Turkey, Serbia
And even Mars.
Birds still sing
Her praises!
“Ti voligio bene!”
“Nup nola!”
“čokoláda dèvōjka!”
The geishas have nothing
Over her.
She’s played pianos, flutes
And horns of various sizes
---And oh, not to mention
Her skills in art;
She could make a man
Stand still
---for hours.
Though she doesn’t look it now,
She was quite an
Impressionist
In her day.
“Intelligence senza
Arrogance”---ah!
This made her canvas
So Matisse!
So Rothko!
So O’Keefe!
Let me stop on that note;
She always hated
Rambling---even still,
I really miss her,
My pitiful little bird.
She spoke a million languages
Yet never said a...
Word.
Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
You
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Question
Cynicism
Made of Still
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Good
Are you a good person
in the eyes of man
doing good things
taking stands
always being kind
right on time
helping old ladies
in the grocery line?
Are you a good person
in the eyes of most
never give lip
never drink or smoke
never talk hate
or stay up late
eat every bite
left on your plate?
Are you a good person?
Click the link below and find out.
The Way of the Master
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Sound
The shutting of elevator doors.
This is the sound of exhausted.
Rice Crispies popping in a bowl of milk.
This is the sound of lonely.
A honking horn at 2:06 a.m.
This is the sound of furious.
Rain dripping through the roof.
This is the sound of broke.
A fist punching the pillow.
This is the sound of crushed.
The scrawling of signatures.
This is the sound of it's over.
High heels striking the pavement.
This is the sound of moving on.
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Apology
What can I say that
has yet to be said
Jesus is not
The Lord of the dead
Jesus is not
The sun or the moon
Jesus is not
A ritual at noon
Jesus is not
A melodious Greek
Jesus is not
A religious freak
Jesus is not
A trance in summer
Jesus is not
A mathematical number
Jesus is not
A prophet alone
Jesus is not
A tree or a stone
Jesus is not
A cool bumper sticker
Jesus is not
A holy nit-picker
Jesus is not
A monk in a cave
Jesus is not
A punk in the grave
Jesus is not
A sect or a cult
Jesus is not
A book in a vault
Jesus is not
A cross made of gold
Jesus is not
A rumor of Old
Jesus is not
An ox or an ass
Jesus is not
A stained piece of glass
Jesus is not
A drink of libation
Jesus is not
A yogic sensation
Jesus is not
A grape or a wafer
Jesus is not
A thesis on paper
Jesus is God
The Giver of Life
Jesus is Lord,
The Savior, the Christ!
Jesus was beaten
Black and blue;
Whipped and crushed
To bring you through!
Jesus was nailed
to take your place;
spilling his blood
To give you grace
Jesus is good
He loves the poor;
The Door, The Gate!
And that's for sure
Jesus is holy
The Son of God;
A friend and brother
Who knows it's hard
Jesus is real
I beg you, please;
Repent and fall
Down on your knees
So what can I say
That has yet to be said
Let Jesus be King
Of your heart and your head!
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Bike
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Hypothesis
If my mind
is just a warehouse
of knowledge
and my knowledge
is just a book
and my book
is just a word
and my word
is just...
an alphabet,
then my alphabets
are just rehearsal
and my words
are just cliches
and my books
are just plaigarized
and my knowledge
is just a script
and my mind
is just...
a microphone.
by Linette Marie Allen, 2008
Enough is Enough
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Rest Assured
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Meet Always
Always learning, never knowing
always moving, never going
always seeking, never finding
always loosing, never binding
Always listening, never hearing
always jiving, never fearing
always talking, never teaching
always laughing, never preaching
Always crying, never repenting
always lying, never relenting
always interpreting, never believing
always imagining, never reading
Always leaving, never staying
always gossiping, never praying
always planting, never producing
always trying, never doing.
Always makes me sick.
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
This Summer
This summer
was born in a land
where hot weather
was in love with the rain
and blue/white/sometimes grey skies
knew no pollution this summer
This summer
was walking in a land
where the cure for hunger
could be picked from a tree
and just lookin' at sun-tanned palms
was good healing this summer
This summer
was laughing in a land
where the belly of time
was quite ticklish
and marigolds were the only flowers
to reproduce themselves this summer
This summer
was bathing in a land
where the sun's heat
was my only towel
and the ocean water was so clean
I could see the corns on my feet this summer
This summer
was dancing in a land
where my soul could
do the tango with the wind
and the smell of a hand-made drum
was makin' me wanna go back again
next summer...
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Does Love Have a Heart?
Does love have a heart
like anger, a temper
and happiness, a smile?
Does love have a heart
like the desert, heat
and the amazon, rain?
Does love have a heart
like a rastaman, dreads
and watermelons, seeds?
Does love have a heart
like a fool, regrets
and cocoa beach, too many hotels?
Does love have a heart
like grandma, bad nerves
and single parents, really hard?
Does love have a heart
like the beginning, an end
and Bush, lots of explaining to do?
Does love have a heart?
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
What's the Use?
What's the use of writing words
if the words are never read
what's the use of saying things
if the meaning is never said
what's the use of living life
if your life is never real
what's the use of having money
if it can not save or heal
what's the use of being human
if you do not have a heart
what's the use of telling stories
if you can not tell the plot
what's the use of playing music
if the sound is never clear
what's the use of having intelligence
if your mind is never here
what's the use of painting pictures
if the art is never seen
what's the use of doing anything
if you never have a dream
what's the use of having feelings
if never have a hope
what's the use of having trophies
if your veins are full of dope
what's the use of being holy
if your words are still obscene
what's the use of making love
if the act is just routine
what's the use of having power
if your power will never anoint
what's the use of getting to know me
if you will never get...
--my point?
by Linette Marie Allen, Copyright 2008
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