After almost a month of hiding, I'm back! Here's a recent poem featured in _iris_ online.
JANE EYRE TAKES TO CYBERSPACE
Tired of midnight screams in drafty rooms
she imagines a jaunt down lover’s lane
like a walk on the moors
to distract her dampened spirits
if she can make it on match.com
through questions
more questions than any governess agency
dares to ask.
She wants to speak the truth
though truth often brings her trouble.
So this time she’ll slip
into white lies.
Plain? Not Very
Exciting? Somewhat
Sexy?Very
Lying is fun.
She can turn herself into a babe
by clicking keys.
Who cares if Rochester waits for her
the other side of a burning house.
She’s sick of gloom
of being the model for every wallflower
in every century.
Longs to be a hot young star
even Barbie would emulate.
To shine in cyberspace.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Sunday, October 02, 2005
A Love Poem by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds 5
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea! 10
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds 5
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea! 10
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
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