Write a Poem (for Professor)

"Write a poem" he said to me

So I wrote a word, or two, or three

But nothing I wrote sounded good

And I really didn't think it would

I tried and tried to think of words

But  my thoughts flew off with the birds

I wish that I could find my muse

To give me words that I could use

To write a poem , or story, or rant

But as of this moment, I just can't

I think I might just go to bed

And hope that sleep fills up my head

With words for you

And words for me

Of life and love and fantasy

Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight my friend

Sorry to say but this is the end !

Lia 3/30/3014


(haha, this was awful, but it was the best I could come up with!!)

A whole lot (or maybe just a little) rambling

I was listening to some old music earlier, actually I am still listening to it now, and I was reminded of a time long ago when my life was kind of screwed up to put it mildly.

Man the stories I could tell about those days, but I don't think I should go into a lot of detail here.... unless one day I get brave and decide to just spill the beans, blurt out all the good, the bad and the ugly.  It might be kind of fun to do that someday, but not tonight.

Anyway, I was listening to this song and it reminded me of a summer long ago when a friend of mine, Chief (not his real name) decided to hitchhike from Indiana to Texas. I had a sister and a brother living down in Houston.  So anyhow, Chief and I were walking through the woods on my Dad's property and we just out of the blue decided to go do this.  We left that evening.  Now as luck would have it, we got a ride with a trucker who was going as far somewhere in Arkansas.  Chief just happened to have an aunt who lived in Arkansas so we stopped and spent the night with her.  That was the first time I ate squirrel........the first and last time actually.  It was really tough but tasted pretty good, like chicken hahaha......isn't that what they say about everything out of the ordinary ? 

Then next day we caught a ride with someone, I can't even remember who it was, but I don't think it was a truck driver.  We got to Houston and my sister had moved.......geesh, she was always moving around. But somehow I found her in that big city and that was the beginning of some very strange adventures which I just might write about here for lack of anything else to write since these days I am not very inspired by anything or anyone and the one I am inspired by, well I can't write about anymore. (figure that one out!!)

Now I know, I haven't said much of anything here tonight and that is why I call it rambling.  

I had some interesting conversations today. I must re-think my thoughts on a lot of things now.  Ugh, now I have to get my brain cranked up. That is difficult at my age.

Alrighty then, this is the song I was listening to that reminded me of that summer with Chief.  We called him Chief because he was Native American. I was his squaw that summer , but since I am just a half-breed, he didn't keep me LOLOL.

)

Recycled (a metaphor)

Bit by bit, little by little, you chipped away till nothing was left but you kept right on whittling away till finally, now there is nothing but dust. But man was made of dust or so they say and other hands will gather up the dust and shape it and glue it and press it into something resembling the original . And when the rains come, as they surely do,  it will get wet and become warped and no longer useful and then it will become apparent that fake is never as good as the real thing. Then it will be tossed into the trash...

 or made into mulch, once again serving a purpose.

~Lia 2014