Friday, September 18, 2009

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

                                Edna St. Vincent Millay


*i love it when the words of another hit home.



Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Untitled.

And so I dance
Hoping you’ll notice
the girl behind the makeup,
you don’t have to remember
and I  shouldn’t expect you to
you get what you paid for,
I put food on my table
just another girl
hoping she’s special
so I’ll keep dancing
pretend our eyes didn’t meet
a moment’s recognition,
dismissed as an illusion
as always
The lights will go out
tomorrow there’ll be another girl
perhaps prettier
maybe more skilled
definitely not me
gotta pull a crowd
or you’re out
and so I dance tonight
with everything I’ve got
Unseen,
even as the spotlight shines on me!