The Fly Swatter

December 21, 2008 § Leave a comment

 

Two eyes peered behind a violet.
How many people came as a threat,
looking inside its space?
Let me count till my face
turns blue.
A fly tries to survive, too.
S.W.A.T. on the thing;
Wings are nodding…
The time has stopped-
and its body dropped
to the ground.
No one heard a sound.

 

© Sonya Rose

Recycle

December 21, 2008 § Leave a comment

 

They panic the rest of time.
The history of mankind
Wrapped in ordinary clothing…
Here is the thing, the mind
Calls out words
Drugs, too small
I’ll be good.
I need you…Call.

He did a lot of thinking.
I refuse to be
A hater
To me
You’re in trouble
Baby
Because you went
Too far, maybe
Every once in a while,
I’ll do…whenever I moan-
I don’t want to hear it.
This is what your phone
Is all about
I’m going to set him
Straight
Look what he did on a whim
Add a little bit of compromise
Look
Who will struggle the hardest?
How we ended it shook…
Stand off…their
Solution is
They didn’t let go
Try hard not to kiss…
Tell us, crying, whatever
You do
He sounds like a
Nice guy I hope for you
He’s not a little
Sissy
In public
Making business missy
In her hands
Porcelain dolls
In her eyes, man
Men laughing, breaking balls
Thank you.
It’s the only done
Thing that bothers
One
I don’t understand
Life
I held on and didn’t
Want to let go of strife
My dream and love
I knew there was
Nothing at all
You’re fired ‘cause.
Take me to Mexico
I’ll love it there,
Curiosity
It’s getting pretty bare
Interesting, pretty
Entertaining
I’m going to fly
Its pouring…it’s raining.
Don’t ask me why…
I particularly like this guy
when I’m with him, I’m high…
So, I will try…
Not to tell this one goodbye…
It’s our time…it’s our sky.

 

© Sonya Rose

Shepperd

December 13, 2007 § 2 Comments

Her gates are sealed
And she’s all booked up till May
She doesn’t need anybody
With a row of dimes
To offer her space in time
“What’s time”, she asks?
Time is just a fantasy
What belongs to her is the sum
Of a ray of light which beams
Forth from her eyes
When looked upon
She knows she’s being watched
But she doesn’t care
She has nothing to worry
Her feet have been walking
In mud all the way to the city
Her hands are reminiscent
Of corn drawing sticks
She cannot draw or write
Or see
Without the love in her life
That she needs the most
Microscopic
Her face is like jewels
Worth more than she knows
Yet she hides behind closed
Gates in the night
With heavy burdens
If only she could talk to me
And tell me
Something
She is ill
Feverish with chills
And has to pay
Now for all her sins
Everyone’s, she floats
Out of her mind across the
Brush, the thicket
And holds onto something
Something you would never
Dream of holding onto
Another kind of brush
I come closer to take a look
And she’s painting the sky
She dips her brush into her
Wounds and screams, not for…
She is not jealous or hates
No one for inflicting her with false hope
Or lingering lies
She is the extreme desire
Of truth
As I stand back to view what
She has written
She speaks me to me
Go now and so I do
But, I can’t, hey, but be curious
What she created
So I turn around
And see a blood filled sky
She’s the painter
The poet of life
Who was always there…
Walks with the Shepperd

Who threads my past,
Present, and future
The clone of time…

 

© Sonya Rose

Fatalities

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

Unopened doors,

passageways to the unknown-

unconscious, unaware,

still surviving.

Don’t think about dying.

In a split second,

it could happen to you;

taking a last breath

in a race never to be won.

 

© Sonya Rose

Keyface

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

Hours pass
She walks on
Glass
A myrmidon
In her choice,
screams!
Some voice
Pretty bad dreams

 

© Sonya Rose

Letter to a Flying Queen: Sylvia Plath

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

In Celebration of National Poetry Month: April 2007, I had written a letter to American Poet Sylvia Plath—from here to the afterlife titled “Letter to a Flying Queen”:


Dear Sylvia,

What does an average woman talk about? What does it say about me when I’m strangely fascinated with your life? You are the Queen in the mirror flying; tumbling down heaven’s staircase is your crown, before my feet. Are you speaking finally to God? What does he say about the war? I am on this empty road together with my brothers and sisters with heavyhearted fears. I am disturbed; I am writing our pain where dreams are realized and suddenly destroyed. The rest of my letters are in a place called “nowhere”, my mind. There were others, too, who shot the blood out of my head, ripped my heart out with their hands. There is no stopping pain. It flew once through your veins; it flows now through mine and the living world.

Oh, what is “Daddy” like? Is he God? Was he disturbed as you were once with the world the way it came to pass? Why didn’t He stop you (from taking your life …) from writing more? Hey, did you know you won a Pulitzer Prize? Why weren’t you honored sooner while you lived? What is it like on the other side of life? Intense? Can you ever love too much without dying?

Well, I must get out of these sleeping clothes, out of my restless dreams, into the disorder of poetic order never to make sense.

Poet to Poet,
Sonya Rose

 

Letter to a Flying Queen “Sylvia Plath” by Sonya Rose {poetry video on YouTube}


Note: What I admire most about Sylvia she did live her life to the extreme, and had an intense passion for life.

dancing dandelions

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

i walked past…

my elementary school…

traveled through a girl and boy

classmates from the start…

the boy who I kissed

in the future….

turned around……..

to follow me…………………

onto the road to higher learning;

i am older now he sees……..

and the day is closing…

i am ice-skating…….

spinning around so much,

almost dizzy now days,

afraid of falling…

not, the boy…

man in his thirties

watched me…

as i told him to pray

for the Super natural…

and Two……….

other Things

perhaps…..

Time and US

not really sure…

as I woke…

from a dream…

and forgot its ending…

my left wrist is hurting

this past Sunday

morning

i am told on the highway

my industrious perseverance

will carry me to my goal

and i will receive recognition

for my work well done

it is the success…

after inexplicable delays

i can’t get discouraged

or become indiscreet……..

for winter will come again soon

and i will not freeze……………

next to the ice-laden trees

the white in the black

the light in a dream

 

© Sonya Rose

Rose’s Window

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

down the escalator……..

with business and love

to reach someone…..

in the old war park…

this someone……….

has no reward…..

for hard work or skill

he is there to escape…..

his problems and stress…….

we deliberately scare ourselves
so please bring—back to control….

our security level, she is a symbol……..

of success in a circle … any figure………

of five lines, he walks with the goddess……

head underground—speaks of the forgotten

Star Wars … i have heard under my sleep

of the five roads, provinces, paths………

of earth, air, fire, water, spirit………….

of generosity, courtesy, chivalry….

piety, no men rode; the planes

not one man, not the someone

i am seeking … that someone

is a folk symbol, when hundreds

thousands of innocent people

are vanishing … the all fearing…
this is a portion of life’s journey.

watching the planes without a beginning

or an end … remain still, almost perfect

…….the council; perhaps, i will begin

striking upwards … the phone rings

…and i answer quietly … the man

…on the other line… says…

sit … is not safe in the place…….

tonight…i wonder who he is meaning

to talk to … meantime, i am packing

up a computer and a fishbowl…….

….for a famous blonde’s fishes

she left Shiseido perfume

…and i was wondering

if i should take it along

for the ride; she is leaving

…with a few girls and a man

who guards her…………..

but cannot be fully trusted
and they leave without me….

strange … no one to call

… i am on my own

victim in disguise…

the soon to be, slave

is leaving for the market

it’s horrible … is she dieting?

this is how she rose to the top….

the man who calls for her to come is

secretly in love with her,…………..

totally, i can see a way out…

what’s a good time to go?

right now … he says

….H.B……

you want……

out? … you want

…to remember

my name………..

can you give me..

a minute……………..

he may be all talk

February’s payback.

 

© Sonya Rose

z.h.o.u.l.

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

Running

To get BY…

don’t you want…

to be like me?

he says……

The Explorer with

Circus faces…

^civil

Came

and left

whizzing

on some…

planet…………

…getting something

across the hall….
an apparition
girls getting

thrown…

in operation

my friend

is screaming

help!……

as I…
fashionably
took this blog
for a spin…n

n..

z

hour

of

ur

love

 

© Sonya Rose

Beautiful Score

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

at Gramercy state park:

hE is waiting last

minute

to tell her…

Ted…would agree

with me

on this matter

everything is coming >>

the second edition

the fourth level…

did she Have any

kids by now?…

my mInd’s eye

becaMe engaged

to a certaiN EXTent

…the eye

of sugar kane

fades into white

with a little tear~

sheet … a twist of fate

 

© Sonya Rose

Verwet

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

blame the train……

without wheels


no dust,

(no dust, no dust)

no getting home today

so you’re a loner…

with your experiences

underground………………

magnetically inclined

to a place you wish

not to go……..

but you have to now

at the speed of sound…

lift away from the lies……

if you must,…………………

try to keep from dying


do not fear the dogs

they’re powerful friends

and it’s raining.

the truth

does blog

 

© Sonya Rose

Secret Kiss

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

notice a hero?
the hero……………..

of an unusual past,…….
a child brought up

in isolation
can he prove

himself
as a dad…

 

through

some sign
…in the stars?

 

he is afraid
and in danger
he is suffering…
harm………………..
he is called…
to follow
his quest…
where

our paths

 

will…
or

have

crossed…
he did not

choose………
the adventure,
it chose him…
so he seeks
something
or someone
who has been
lost…or stolen
perhaps it is me
and the ring…
he refuses
to surrender
this hero’s way
is not clear to him…
he is taking a detour
to solve the riddle
of us……………..
he is filled…
with dangers,
lonliness,………..
and temptation
women
far away…
he goes
seeks

 

information
his guide

 

can only help
to a certain point
then the guide
is gone
he suffers.
wounded-
to his
descent
he dreads
waking …
physical
emotional
hell…
his death
is a rebirth
maturity…
changes him
in a such a way
achievement
of the goal
that’s tangible
is spiritual…
growth is more
important
than anything….
one night, we met
while i was sleeping…
he asked for my protection,
guidance, and knowledge…
so, i gave him all of me,
a secret kiss-
my life…

 

 

© Sonya Rose

 

a threat

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

from the east,…
the sixth project is riSING
she cannoT lead us

tO the tRuth
…to bEAuty
her PerfecT ideals…

she needs enligHtEned
hides under covers
loSE-calls, CommiTted
message abOaRd
message One,

he gave her
nothing
no Fancy cars
heaTed mEssages
triviaL…
insubstantial
she has an uncanny
ability to rEad
MINDS
how

she coMe-
Up with that…
i STarted
to ask mysElf

what is The…

i am tired if…

Doesn’t It work

maybe,…

E’s relaying to uS

twelve Or so

beginningS…
over
Again

we are

sTumped
Under pressure
pretty sTrong
emotions

over time…
A vessel
academy

He was clearly
hitting on her
she doesn’t…

make this Up
he’s out to get

something
he NeeDs…
think thE otheR

should know this,
he says,
because

she’s a friendly
kind of character
he’s right…
and I already know…
call me the third eye
something
called the spirit

this takes over;

i could bloG
all day
with visions
don’t want to…
the woRld is callOUs
T-boNe…
it shapes you

into thinking
you’re nothing…

i Don’t…

like what i am

hearing
anymore….
the commitment
to stay on top
of things-
like

your existenCe
doeSn’t matter at all

I cannot fight
anymore
the wind
it’s so Strong

at Times
i cannot move
embRaced by the cOld
and wet currents, tuNnels of
trails and tribulations
i hope help is on the way
soon…

this is a breakfast-
club kind of feel…
G

 

© Sonya Rose

Mother Scorpion

November 18, 2007 § 2 Comments

she can’t afford to play politics

exactly…

hmm … who can afford to play

politics i say to that man

behind my back…

that’s why we are not

considered…

equal,

nobody understands…

quite yet

makes sense later…

how much longer

will she wait, the man says

it’s been about two years

he continues…

hmm … i am sorry for her,

this used woman

that year

holds a rope

with a noose…

money falling

out of her pockets

for the contest

of her lover

she goes behind…

the bleachers and starts

to march up the stairs

in the middle

of four

other platforms

with four other woman

who are waiting

on the diving boards

the dirt of loving death

…because i was there

in her shoes when there was

only one woman,

loving the game player

who she has gone back

to what will be known

as heartache seven

written in the sand…

i am writing in his black

book, the damage

he is causing…

i have left New York

and it has brought

me

here…

to this higher plane

of existence

where my skin

is shedding

from the sun…

i can finally see…

the reality of the situation

below the mark on the breast

from the bite of the fifth

girl stepping up

to the platform…

has faded

across from me

in this private place

is another past love

who rose as well….

much further away

we are from him

who we love

no longer…

we’ve grown

in our senses…

to make our circle

complete

the man who made

US scream…

is vanishing

so, i will stay here

and never go back

or look back

to the moment

i had parted the room

women in waves

were swept away

by one smile…

beauty

just one look

and he knew

i was the one

and the one

he did not

count

on leaving

in the dust

of his very own

hanging by these five

women in the hour

burning

my old skin is raining

on him…

i am glowing

as all he can say

is “he says, she says”

what is this crap?

the she is a brain…

C.R. tells me my vision

or others do not matter

anymore…

a final God Bless

sad to let this happen

 

© Sonya Rose

Previsions, along

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

a woman depressed

born in the 1920’s

outlived her daughter

and took the funeral

hard…

her friend

in the distance, Anne

loves Theater as well

and wonders…

if this striking gifted girl

who reminds the depressed

woman of her daughter

who died…

will be noticed

in her nightclothes…

this gifted girl walks

to her mailbox today,

nothing of importance

is ever in the box

she will have to smash

it and rebuild new

for in her boyfriend’s box

there are 6 letters,

lots of mail…

she had spoke through

my dream tonight

this woman and i was led

to a wonderful surprise

i asked her please

give it to me…

afraid of me now

what will i do?

he’s talking about me now…

i’m on “Previsions”…

 

© Sonya Rose

c-X

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

i cancelled to go to the club

two were taking showers

ready to meet

i could not


now, he is being watched

if he’s driving right

he placed the girls

in the rest

of my shoes

beige tweed pumps

…that weekend on the beach

i saw old weapons and went out

the door, immediately past his

rubber boots


dress conservatively, look

at the mirror, see a business suit

so he’s new, parallel…

to the fashion industry

shoes … gold mine information

in Rome..

he spoke English


“how did we get that power?”

a presidential pre-season

when pity should grow up to

be a shame…


“i have been really sentenced

to the world around

Abraham.”, he says-

the bruises on his left cheek

could not be ignored as she

shaved his facial hair

he wore a head

piece

resembling someone

from Palestine

i watched from a distance

as an interview was set-up-

37


keeping a close-eye if the ball

is thrown at me…

have to get used to handling

the ball, step up to the offensive

side, speak one day

young, inexperienced, talented

positively slow, and they continue

to grow…

the enemy … he

is in our Atlanta

the Prime Minister said

he can’t anymore….

a land of activities

lost half the battle already

here of six

 

© Sonya Rose

Fragile Thoughts

November 14, 2007 § Leave a comment

The dawn of truth

is found in dark corners

in deep hours.

I hear laughter

outside my window.

In my room,

I hear nothing;

but, the crushing

of my head-

a state

where I live alone.

 

© Sonya Rose

deeply you

October 21, 2007 § Leave a comment

i took this moment
to seek in my heart…
a million things, one dream
alone………………….
drifting…………
my seas are swelling
tell me………..
you dream too…
of sailing……………….
in a world of me and you
every day we play
the roles………..
in a secret space….
if i come to you
tonight………..
what will you do?
will you smile…
will you hold me?
will you kiss me?…….
so much more

than my face
will ever show
please know…
it’s you……………
you’re what i need
i wish…………………..
you knew……………………

 

© Sonya Rose

Color of Love

October 21, 2007 § Leave a comment

A singer explodes

into an icon

of beautiful harmony.

Listen

to the wonder

of her powers

gripped to the soul

of Epiphany.

 

© Sonya Rose

Bathing Beauty

October 21, 2007 § Leave a comment

Droplets of a dream
fall by the dozen
into a basin,
a whirlpool
creating ripples,
washing upon
my feet…
I contemplate
escaping
five minutes longer…

 

© Sonya Rose

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