"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."

Friday, January 21, 2000

You Bring Me Down

Our relationship is deteriorating
into nothing.
It's getting to where I'm sick
when I think of you.

You don't have a romantic bone in your whole body
for me.

I despise you--
so cold; so distant.

Your fucking phonyness
and half-ass effort;
only when it's convenient for you...
or too late!

You bring me down.












Oooh, when I think about
the man I fell in love with;
the glow;
the energy shining through him;
the way he made me feel';
the magic we brought together,

and now nothing.

I have to talk myself into wanting you,
only to have you kill every bud in bloom.

I'm left alone with fantasy.
I had more romance when I slept alone.

You bring me down.

January 21, 2000

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 7:25 PM 1 comments