"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."

Sunday, June 14, 1998

Our Moment In Time









What will happen when you come out, my love?
Two people who can't be together,
because of the worlds they are from,
and the worlds they live in,

but an undeniable love;
a special closeness;
a comfort zone;
a bond beyond comprehension.

No one loves you more.
No one else can care for you better.

Someone else can party with you.
Someone else can drink a beer with each you guzzle.
Someone else can share hits off of your joint.
Someone else can match you line for line.

I can't.

I hurt;
hating these things you do to your body,
and mine,
but I see your soul!

I look into your eyes and I see your soul.

I can appreciate each smile like no other.
I can feel each unreleased tear like no one.
I want your touch like no one else's.

What will happen when you come out, my love?

Hold me straight through.
Let's not let it end.

Let's eternalize the elation--
our one moment in time.

June 14, 1998

Tuesday, June 09, 1998

Scattered Thought III










Every day, I work hard.
When I finally come home,
at the end of such an exhausting day,
I am alone--
Not just by definition--
meaning the lacking of another physical being--
but straight out alone.

I am always so tired!
Right now, I'm sluggish and conciously having to work my muscles
to do that which is usually involuntary.
I yawn constantly;
not able to cease the urge.
When free time exists,
I choose to sleep over other activity.

Of course,
this goes back to the fact that I have no one,
with whom, to spend time.

June 1998