Its inevitable.
I'm gravitating this way.
I moving toward you without thinking.
Catching me in your spider web just like you did before.
Letting me go again
Miracle Baby Princess Fiona
Miracle Baby Princess Fiona
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Captors
I forget about the rest of you
when he's in my head
I forget your standing there all around me
My guards
Making sure I'll never sing again.
Determined to never let me by.
But you're criminals
My captors
You know
You can't have me on sandy beaches
with ice cold peaches in my mouth
You're henchmen
You hold my arms when I try to break free
My own world I'm making inside your tight circle around me.
He makes me forget you're there
When you hit me
When you spit on me
But you're criminals
My own captors.
when he's in my head
I forget your standing there all around me
My guards
Making sure I'll never sing again.
Determined to never let me by.
But you're criminals
My captors
You know
You can't have me on sandy beaches
with ice cold peaches in my mouth
You're henchmen
You hold my arms when I try to break free
My own world I'm making inside your tight circle around me.
He makes me forget you're there
When you hit me
When you spit on me
But you're criminals
My own captors.
Monday, August 2, 2010
476 days
with you in my sight
your bright blue eyes in my heart
every day and every night
Now you start to tell me what you want
With your words
and your smiles
and your gleeful expression
you are mine
my bright eyes
I am your everything.
Today
476 days.
your bright blue eyes in my heart
every day and every night
Now you start to tell me what you want
With your words
and your smiles
and your gleeful expression
you are mine
my bright eyes
I am your everything.
Today
476 days.
Tight (yes the poetry is back)
It's so good
It can't be real
Don't know what to think
or even what to feel
It soft and its sweet
easy and chilled
Like fruit in my belly
so lightly filled.
It tickles is teases
Its tight and it tame
It sweet like candy
Or its just part of a game.
It can't be real
Don't know what to think
or even what to feel
It soft and its sweet
easy and chilled
Like fruit in my belly
so lightly filled.
It tickles is teases
Its tight and it tame
It sweet like candy
Or its just part of a game.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
To Grandmother's House We Go
Just last weekend my mom, stepfather, my five month old daughter, Francesca and I traveled to Arizona to visit my 92 year-old Grandma. Things I love about traveling to Arizona the most are seeing my family...and climbing Squaw Peak, which I don't get to do now that my brother and family have uprooted to Maryland.
Yet, my grandmother's house remains the same. One of the most constant things in my life since I was 10 years old. Walking in her home is like being home. A real feeling of home. Like a childhood walk back in time. I picked oranges of her trees, my Italian Papa make us homemade bread, fresh squeezed orange juice, and tons of other culinary goodies.
I have so many memories of my her house, like being 16 and forced to go there when a boy I fell so hard for was back at home waiting for me, playing mini golf at the arcade, the diving board at the pool, driving fast in the golfcart with my brother, and of course, when Papa passed away. I will always feel his presence when I walk through the house or when I relax on Grandma's patio.
The one thing I love most is the love that flows through the house. My Grandma is polite, educated, and well-spoken. She reads the paper every day and you will never ever catch her watching anything but baseball, the news, or Wheel of Fortune. She is also fiesty and opinionated at the same time. "babies should not be wrapped so tight, "She looks like she's in jail!" she tells me when I swaddle Francesca. Not to mention the sock in the arm she gave me when she saw Francesca's pierced ears,
"those are hurting her!"
"She's my baby I'll do what I want," I smile politely. There is more of me in her than just our matching blue eyes.
Yet, my grandmother's house remains the same. One of the most constant things in my life since I was 10 years old. Walking in her home is like being home. A real feeling of home. Like a childhood walk back in time. I picked oranges of her trees, my Italian Papa make us homemade bread, fresh squeezed orange juice, and tons of other culinary goodies.
I have so many memories of my her house, like being 16 and forced to go there when a boy I fell so hard for was back at home waiting for me, playing mini golf at the arcade, the diving board at the pool, driving fast in the golfcart with my brother, and of course, when Papa passed away. I will always feel his presence when I walk through the house or when I relax on Grandma's patio.
The one thing I love most is the love that flows through the house. My Grandma is polite, educated, and well-spoken. She reads the paper every day and you will never ever catch her watching anything but baseball, the news, or Wheel of Fortune. She is also fiesty and opinionated at the same time. "babies should not be wrapped so tight, "She looks like she's in jail!" she tells me when I swaddle Francesca. Not to mention the sock in the arm she gave me when she saw Francesca's pierced ears,
"those are hurting her!"
"She's my baby I'll do what I want," I smile politely. There is more of me in her than just our matching blue eyes.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
I'm still here
Here, I am once again. Ready to take of the bloggin scene again. Even if no one reads, I have big plans...for myself and for my family. Plans which involve the world of writing, something I really love and something I am fairly good at. I have plans for my writing and they begin here. Its been a rough, exciting, challenging, special year. A year full of growth and amazing changes. I will begin to document the insanity and the uniqueness that is MY life everyday. I hope you enjoy.
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