Friday, April 20, 2012

Villanelle Poem


"Mama Naughty"

I have become the type of mom I hate
This is not the mom I thought I would be
Damn it, so load I can’t concentrate  

They aren’t eating veggies, staying up late
Throwing their fits, God Damn it- he bit me
I have become the type of mom I hate

“can’t” go to the park, you’ll just have to wait”
“Yes, Mama Naughty- forgive me baby?”
Damn it, so loud, I can’t concentrate

Guilt so heavy, Mama isn’t a Saint
“First mama has to finish her coffee”
I have become the type of mom I hate

When is babysitting? Must check the date
This is the definition of Lunacy
Lord God, Make them quiet, must concentrate

Lord, they are so good, don’t deserve this fate
But I am all grey, “Mama crying” you see
I have become the type of mom I hate
Oh God, something is wrong, can’t concentrate   


Its really late but here it is. 
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Poets To Come --- By Walt Whitman


POETS to come! orators, singers, musicians to come!

Not to-day is to justify me and answer what I am for,

But you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental, greater than

before known,



Arouse! for you must justify me.

I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future,

I but advance a moment only to wheel and hurry back in the

darkness.



I am a man who, sauntering along without fully stopping, turns a

casual look upon you and then averts his face,

Leaving it to you to prove and define it,

Expecting the main things from you.

Followers