"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."

Monday, October 23, 1989

Alone

Alone.

Alone with my aspirations;
full of no inspiration;
suffering a separation
composed of a desparation;

Waiting for my day to come
when I will get all of the sun
when one shall say I'm number one;
but yet I sit alone all day,
pretending I am quite allay;
putting on a phony display.

He doesn't care.
He's not aware.
He turned me face down somewhere.
He cannot share.
My heart he tears.

He hides his emotions
through spurious notions.
I need a potion
to set love in motion.

Maybe deep down he wants it too.
Maybe he is just as blue.
Maybe what he says is true.
I think something's wrong all through.

I'll close my eyes.
I'll sit real quiet.
Deep down my heart is crying.
If only he'd just be trying,
I know we could make it all better
together.

October 18, 1989

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 9:58 PM

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