Wednesday, May 29, 2013

(P6) We Write Poems 159 : Mistaken IDentity





(P6) Mistaken IDentity

For years she felt like Dorothy. Always running
without catching her breath.  And she never had a
pair of magical red shoes to click three times Well that
was the color they were in the movie.Like all books trans-
ferred to the the screen -there were some alterations...Those
magic slippers were really silver,read the book. The Emerald City
wasn’t really green - just the glasses you were given to look through
when you entered the gate, made everything look just so. The all power-
ful and mighty wizard ...well he turned out to be just a man, That much they
kept the same. Strange places...Been there done that, but doesn’t have the
T-shirt to prove it.The odd forest where the little white worms dropped from
the trees -The overnighter with the supposed friend where she nearly froze
her buns off. The Girl Scout Summer camp week that wasn’t a vacation for
for her.The summer of being a Mother’s helper where she wasn’t allowed
to go home - after the first week, when she said she wasn’t happy, ‘they’
made her stay in a suburban nightmare  with Mrs. Stick-in-the-Mud and
her young ones. The temporary escape living with the girlfriend who
who said - um, you’ll have to go now as we need the room, as they
were expecting their first. She lived in a state of ‘Oz’  for most of
her young adult life. Just knowing that there was somewhere
over the rainbow That gave her hope that life could change,
could be better...But you can’t live on what might be -
\can’t or won’t compete with the fashionistas,/
\                                                                     /
\                                                                   /
\                                                                /
\                                                             /
\                                                           /
or the cooks who can name all the spices after
tasting a spoonful of food. So that’s why one
keeps their writing to themselves...Mostly
because no one else was interested
anyway... She  thought ‘their’ loss...
because someday without the help
of Glenda, one gets to create their
own home out of the house they
share with the love of their life, &
\.that my friends is no fairy tale./

©JP/davh
*Id are the instincts closely connected with the body

2 comments:

  1. well as usual your writing is excellent. I like that you've arranged in in the shape of the hot air balloon! I hope you're well Jules, and enjoying nicer weather. happy week to you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your layout here is amazing! Love how you did this! I once wrote a poem and the layout looked like a flower but I was never able to do that again.

    ReplyDelete

Thanks for your kind words. I do review all comments before posting - so if your comment disappears on you, don't fret. I will post honorable comments as soon as I am able.

I do not post or return visits to "Anonymous Comments." Adding your link to an unrelated site will not help. Most everything that ends up in spam will not be posted, especially that which makes no sense to the post.

Any 'opinions' that are not introduced, explained and are unrelated to my post will not be honored. Having a 'legitimate' blog will not help - you will be marked as spam. You will have no voice here. Thank you.