Screams Friday, Jun 29 2007
i scream from the inside
these words, they save me
and your touch
distracts me
- RM
supermodel Monday, Jun 11 2007
Poetry and Relationships 9:20 am
he said she was perfect
not everybody thinks that
not everyone wants a supermodel
on their arm
not everyone waits
for the perfect girl
but he does and he will
i wonder how that will end
he says her eyes are like the forest
her eyes are like the earth
he says her hair is beautiful and
her smile lights up the world
so odd to be someone’s whole world
he says he’ll marry her
buy her a big ring and
give her what she needs
how could she
ever say no
what a beauty she’ll be
when they walk in a room
what will they say
“she must have something special”
“he must have something grand”
“i can’t believe they’re still in love
how unlikely
i thought they were
just friends”
- rm, 2.4.2002
reflections on a saturday night Sunday, Jun 10 2007
Poetry 11:23 am
heroin chic
(not my style).
treat life like an earthquake
as i wait for the disaster to pass.
they’re drawn to the white in her dress
and i’m just the wing girl for my boys.
tambourine,
drums,
mic,
and a struggle to hold myself in the moment.
the bar clears
and i feel more at home.
one “impressive” trick
his only known guitar lick,
dulled by my all-comsuming whiskey.
dancers, prancers,
movers, shakers;
one more seductive glance and i’m through.
i claim it’s my calling,
declare myself a regular,
knowing
i still don’t fit in.
Like Night Monday, May 7 2007
I will die in Wisconsin,
wishing I were anywhere else.
It will seem like night, though the evening is young.
I’ll look through the window,
shade half drawn,
and be mesmerized by the falling snow.
Staring at the impersonal sky littered with streetlights,
I’ll remember my childhood
and my days free of worry,
before I thought everyone wanted to hurt me.
I think it will be a Monday;
A lonely Monday, though crowds
gather outside my bedroom door,
never the foot of my bed.
My neighbors will be too busy to send their condolences,
too annoyed to say anything pleasant.
Renee McNamara is dead. More than dust will remain:
Pictures of a Hollywood smile; poems
that no one else wanted to read;
and music that only she heard.
- RM
dec 7 Thursday, Feb 22 2007
Poetry 9:43 pm
i can feels sad
i can be lonely
i can miss days gone by and i can miss myself
i can feel fat
and ugly
i can cry
and scream
i can be unhappy and think you suck and think i suck
i can expect more
i can accept less
i can love you
i can still love you when i’m like this
– RM
Alone, Sitting Against the Wall Monday, Feb 19 2007
Poetry 10:04 pm
I do my best work
alone,
sitting against the wall,
hair in a ponytail,
and a million other things to do.
I look my best
in the light of early morning,
wearing last night’s makeup
and your sweatshirt.
I am strongest
talking sternly on the phone,
pacing the floor,
rolling my eyes,
and standing my ground.
I am weakest
just after a kiss,
looking in your eyes,
and feeling your warmth.
I am most comfortable
in the moments before I fall asleep,
wrapped in my sheets,
and writing poems in my head.
I feel most alone
in a crowded room
where no one will look you in the eye,
with a drink in my hand
and a thousand better places to be.
– RM
if Monday, Jan 8 2007
if i write that i’m happy
that means that i’m happy
because whatever i write
you believe
– RM
