Monthly Archives: July 2014

Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled (August 26, 2000)

His intellegence makes me speachless

His touch makes my knees jello

Funny how he had me

with a simple, “Hello.”

He transformed me from

girl to goddess

with insight on politics and religion

How can I express myself to this Greek God,

this Einstein

when every time he looks at me

I forget my name?

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Mortification Monday

August 3rd, 1995

Dear Diary,

Okay, the hurricane didn’t hit us. But we had a lot of rain in Clearwater. In Homosassa the water didn’t even come up. Nana and Papa had a bunch of branches fall. But I honestly don’t want to talk about the hurricane right now. Sure I had fun. Like I went swimming in the rain and I’m sleeping in the camper, but the hurricane hit Alabama or something. And there’s another storm in the Caribbean I’ll let you if it hits.

What I want to talk about is falling in love. How do you know when you are falling in love? I guess you feel it. I’m not sure I’ve felt it. Or I think I may have. Like now. All I know is I like Jon. Really like him. But I don’t know if it’s love. Sure I say I love him, and in my letters to him I tell him I love him. But do I really feel it? I also wonder if when people say they love or like you if they’re just saying it or is it true? I mean I don’t think I’ve ever actually fallen in love. But I have had crushes and I’ve thought I was in love but never was. I wonder if I’m in love with Jon and if I’m ever going to fall in love. I’m subject to change my mind like I think I like a guy or have a crush on him but then the next day I don’t. I guess I’m only attracted to guys. I wish I would be swept off my feet. I’d love it if a guy brushed my hair or played with it, if he kissed my forehead or my hand . I’d like him to caress my hand and have him run his hand along my hand or trace my face. I’d love to dance in the rain or be swept into someone’s arms and spun around. I want someone to send me flowers for no reason or have a guy write me poetry or songs. I’d love to be sung to.

I have a dream or fantasy that I’ll see Jon at my high school and he picked me up and he held me in his arms. He would spin me around and kiss me. He would give me flowers and say I love you. Or that I see him at Lutheridge and I run to him and hug him and he’d kiss me and say I love you. Or we’d be walking/ hiking at Lutheridge, he’d pic a wildflower and give it to me to carry or put it behind my ear and say, “a pretty flower for a pretty girl.” Or else we’d be in front of my cabin and he’d kiss me goodnight. It’d be gentle and soft. Or he’d hold me close in front of a fire and sing me a song. Or even ask me to sow dance to a fast song at a dance. I want to be crazy in love. I want to be swept into his arms and have him say, I love you, Danielle or Char. I doubt any of this will happen. Maybe I’ll see him again. I know I’ll keep these dreams inside my head and pretend they’re real. No one knows this but me and you.

This is what I want-love. I want to fall in love with Jon. I wish on every star that I’ll fall in love with him.

Love,
Danielle (Char)

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Bad Poetry Friday

“A Hooker Returning to Her Corner” 2/17/1998

A long time goodbye

happiness etched on a street corner

wrapped around an empty soul

to void the chill of deception

rain on flesh

rolling and fumbling

sorrow is no longer sweet like honey

seldom does she feel

what she is being robbed of

she once fell when

she wasn’t looking

 

 

Notes:

Based on the word use in this poem and the date, I suspect it was one of my magnetic poetry creations. No idea why I would actually write a poem about a prostitute when I was 17.

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Bad Poetry Friday

To The Other Woman c. June 1999

 

You will never know me

yet you have felt my presence

after all I left my mark

on him

and you tried to erase it

Keep him- I don’t want to share

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Mortification Monday

August 1, 1995

Dear Diary,

Okay there’s a hurricane (Erin) and it’s going to hit the FL (the Tampa Bay area). I’m scared to death. I’m at Nana and Papa’s. We’ll have to evacute tomorrow. I’m so  tired so I’ll write tomorrow.

 

Okay it’s Wednesday. Erin is a tropical storm. It won’t be going through Tampa Bay but farther up. It ptobably won’t hit here in Homossassa. But as we were fixing the shop (moving stuff, sweeping) there were strong winds, enough to blow me away. And rain. But the wind was causing stuff to fall from the trees. I had to get up at 7:15 yesterday. I saw Clueless with Tina. She came over and we hung out and then helped Nana and Papa put up storm shutters up and threw the pool chairs into the pool. When we got back from the cabin last Sunday, well two the two Sundays ago I had 10 letters including one from Jon. It was 3 pages and I wrote him back. The Braves game was fun but MARTA scared me and we had to buy tickets off scalpers and the game was sold out. We missed the first two innings. We sat in centerfield, the upper deckl We moved around 4 times. The Braves won. The beach weekend was fun. We had a toga party and I got thrown in the ocean. We built sand people (Lindsey, Luka, Josh, and David and me) hung out together. I also got my own room. But more on that later when I am home.

Love, Danielle

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Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled (August 26th 1999)

I read Shakespeare

I quote Plath

You say, I quote, “You’ve got a nice ass.”

Look beyond my leather pants

past my Steve Madden shoes

and you’ll see the intellect I hide

 

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Tune in Tuesday: “All I Want”

This new song by Dawn Golden has been a wrecking ball to my heart and I can’t stop listening to it/ watching the video even though it makes me an tsunami of sad. It reminds me of a cross between old (and good Coldplay) and The National.

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July 1, 2014 · 1:09 pm