"Accolades For Valor" by Matthew Johnson (1993): "She goes through life, gliding, a benevolent seer/ Stopping constantly to aid those in need, those not even dear/ I, an individual, swept up in the storm/ Of a woman, who, in search of herself, defies the norm/ As I, an outcast, fighting myself, yet daring to believe/ That if I ask her aid and succor (and possibly love) she won’t leave/ Giving her heart, mind and soul to every known cause/ Causing me to look about my selfish malestrom, and in introspection give pause/ For all her words, she won’t write about me, does she fail to perceive/ What the object knows to be true and what make believe—/ Words rarely present, presence much more of one/ Is to wish for more as good as wishing for the sun?/ Energy is precious, as I know well to be true/ And I am curious to know, Lorraine, what I can ask of you/ Names are important, they make us who we are/ Much more important than people give credit, by far/ The masses may cry “Lori!” and let them do so!/ For the numbers who call that cannot understand/ They will never know the Lorraine inside, the one crying to live/ Will be forever frustrated by those whose minds are like a sieve/ There may be those who rob her of her world, let them scratch the skin/ They are as pinpricks to the steel within/ These accolades are not exaggeration, not pretentious/ I Just want you to know that there is at least one who is conscious/ That the world is a better place for the life of a woman named Lorraine."

Tuesday, September 12, 1989

Teddy Bear Syndrome












Oh, here it comes again.
I get to be his fair-weather friend.
I kind of get lost in the shuffle

when he's dealing with his troubles.
Instead of reaching out to me,
I fall out of memory
and vision.

I've been here so many times before,
but I thought these times were gone for sure.

Now, I wonder, just what is my role?
Do I ignore my feelings; let them take their toll?
Why can't he realize I'm around?

I can give, give, give; and I can be there,
but that doesn't mean that he'll see the care.
They never do. You'd think I'd learn.
Instead, I continue to get burned.

There really is no right thing to do.
I shouldn't have come around 'til all was through.
If I bite my tongue and let him go as he does,
I'll go crazy from the results.

It doesn't matter what we're planning or doing,
I'm left alone and it starts stewing,
but how can I say anything when he's already stressed?
That'll just make for a bigger mess!


I don't want to cause more pain.
So, here we go again.

September 12, 1998