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Hopeful
I journal my journey along the jagged track of my jigsaw life in spite of my jittery nerves and jaded cloak
I tell tales of tumultuous terrain tending my teapot filled with theoretical jargon which jolt me back and forth from tiptoe-to-tigress
I write washable words with no warrantee as I wiggle and waggle, teeter and totter between joy and woe
I pen pragmatic prophecy with my proud poetry
Hopefully, this will prompt my harried heart to part with the prima donna ego cape and trade it for a more primitive wondrous warm tapestry of truth
someday
Sharon Robinson Simmons
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FREEDOM
Freedom is driving a brand new car a little too fast on the interstate highway with no specific destination time and money in my pocket and only the wind messing with my head
Freedom to move Freedom to go Freedom to stop Freedom to be “me” alone in a car singing any damn song in any damn key
Freedom is stopping at the hotel of “my” choice to rest… eat whatever I want to eat do whatever I want to do
…and write lies on postcards to my loved ones back home
“Wish you were here!”
Sharon Robinson Simmons |
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Performance Poets Association® |
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CRAYONS
You want to know just who I am Put me in a little box Label me and understand You may call me “Paradox”.
I have 20/20 vision Yet, I’m blind as a bat I’m an angel with wings I have claws like a cat.
My name is “Red” My name is “Green” And every color In between.
I will love you to pieces And fight you to the death I will drive you away I will take away your breath.
I am love I am hate I’m never on time I’m never too late.
My courage exceeds My cowardice prevails I am soft Yet, hard as nails.
I am fire I am ice I am devil I am nice.
I am tender and warm with a love you can trust I am hot and I am cold A virgin filled with lust.
I’m a slut I’m a prude I’m polite I am rude.
I am very special In an ordinary way I will never leave you But, I will never stay.
I am ruthless I am fair You’ll see me here When I’m over there.
Call me bad Call me good But my real name Is “Misunderstood”.
I am your wildest fantasy Your worst nightmare, too I am all that is old And even more that is new. |
I am pink I am black And everything You’ve ever lacked.
I see myself as lazy Yet, you will call me driven I’m often rather selfish Though you’ll always see me giving.
I am weak I am strong I’m always right And always wrong.
I’m a lady of distinction And a crude and tawdry bitch I am Ghandi and Mother Teresa I’m a warlock, I’m a witch.
I am the beauty I am the beast My name is “Hypocrisy” To say the least.
I am prideful In a humble sort of way I am rich, yet very poor I don’t see black and white, just gray.
I’m a princess I’m a frog I see clearly Through the fog.
I am smart I am dumb I am depressed But I have fun.
I am woman I am man I am water I am land.
Call me what you wish Sort me like your socks Label me your “Crayon” And place me in a box.
My name is “Red” My name is “Green” And every color In between.
Sharon Robinson Simmons |