Submissions by MadameLavender
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
What The Lord Said
I asked for freedom,
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I asked for change,
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I prayed something for myself,
But I know not if it was selfish,
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I have ridden to the end of the line,
Where the rails run into the sand
And the Lord said
“I shall raise up the tracks into the new,
For the former season has passed...
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I asked for change,
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I prayed something for myself,
But I know not if it was selfish,
And the Lord said
“I shall open up a path before you
Upon which you will walk.”
I have ridden to the end of the line,
Where the rails run into the sand
And the Lord said
“I shall raise up the tracks into the new,
For the former season has passed...
55 reads
6 Comments
7/22/14
(Written for Evan's "Fibonacci Sequence" competition
She’s
Gone.
Edith,
Grandmother;
Free of all hindrance.
I buried her, with heavy heart,
And will try to find
My new life
Without
Her
Smile.
She’s
Gone.
Edith,
Grandmother;
Free of all hindrance.
I buried her, with heavy heart,
And will try to find
My new life
Without
Her
Smile.
57 reads
7 Comments
Edie (1924-2014)
(For my Grandmother, who passed on, July 22, 2014. I'll see you again someday!)
I was once a child,
But now I run along the wind,
Ever a child of God.
I was once a scholar,
But now I am learned in the ways of angels
And I have graduated, once more, in life.
I was once a bride,
But now I walk a different aisle,
Paved of living water as the Bride of Christ.
I was once a mother,
But now I lay among the stars,
As I did lay my children in their beds.
I was once many things,
But now I am many more to come,
As...
I was once a child,
But now I run along the wind,
Ever a child of God.
I was once a scholar,
But now I am learned in the ways of angels
And I have graduated, once more, in life.
I was once a bride,
But now I walk a different aisle,
Paved of living water as the Bride of Christ.
I was once a mother,
But now I lay among the stars,
As I did lay my children in their beds.
I was once many things,
But now I am many more to come,
As...
66 reads
13 Comments
For Whom The Belle Tolls
(written for the "Beauty And The Beast" competition)
Click, click
Her heels slowly echo off the floor.
She takes a drag from her cigarette,
The end flaring up in a glow of orange,
Burning
Like her eyes.
Click, click
She circles ‘round them,
Eyeing the girls,
Her girls,
The working girls.
Click, click
Madame Belle they call her.
She derives a perverse pleasure,
From watching them squirm under her gaze—
Cindy-rella, Snow, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel,
The Indian One…
Click, click...
Click, click
Her heels slowly echo off the floor.
She takes a drag from her cigarette,
The end flaring up in a glow of orange,
Burning
Like her eyes.
Click, click
She circles ‘round them,
Eyeing the girls,
Her girls,
The working girls.
Click, click
Madame Belle they call her.
She derives a perverse pleasure,
From watching them squirm under her gaze—
Cindy-rella, Snow, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel,
The Indian One…
Click, click...
125 reads
10 Comments
Milk and Cookies
![restricted poem](/images/extremecontent.jpg)
80 reads
7 Comments
Entitlement
(Written for the "Morbid and True" competition and dedicated to certain co-workers I have a major problem with—you know who you are)
What does the term “entitlement” mean?
That you are entitled to something?
Owed something?
Do tell; I’m all ears.
You, who sits on her ass all shift,
Twiddling on the iPhone—
How ‘bout it?
What gives you the right to do that
When you know it’s not allowed
And you see the rest of us running around like idiots
Doing all the work.
Are you entitled?
And you,
Who would rather...
What does the term “entitlement” mean?
That you are entitled to something?
Owed something?
Do tell; I’m all ears.
You, who sits on her ass all shift,
Twiddling on the iPhone—
How ‘bout it?
What gives you the right to do that
When you know it’s not allowed
And you see the rest of us running around like idiots
Doing all the work.
Are you entitled?
And you,
Who would rather...
58 reads
11 Comments
Where The Trains Used To Run
(Written for Grace's "Please Sir, I Want More" competition)
If I told you that none of this was mine,
And only here on your constant pre-approval,
Would you believe me?
Or would you twist it to fit your dry-drunken beliefs
And clip my wings once more,
The way I now see that you have done all along?
I want my freedom.
To go where the trains used to run,
And follow their abandoned beds,
Marveling at the Creator’s touch upon the land.
I want my life to be my own.
To bow to no-one
And to walk...
If I told you that none of this was mine,
And only here on your constant pre-approval,
Would you believe me?
Or would you twist it to fit your dry-drunken beliefs
And clip my wings once more,
The way I now see that you have done all along?
I want my freedom.
To go where the trains used to run,
And follow their abandoned beds,
Marveling at the Creator’s touch upon the land.
I want my life to be my own.
To bow to no-one
And to walk...
63 reads
9 Comments
Sweet Oblivion
(Written for JR's compeition "Birth Of The Rebel". This piece is about my earliest memories I have retained from toddler years living in Ostuni, Italy, 1968-1971, during the Vietnam War)
I was there, diapered,
Watching Mom clean up the puddle of cat piss on the floor;
Mr. Smith did it,
While Bobby Kennedy was being killed.
I loved him—Mr. Smith,
And we sat on the balcony
Watching with fascination,
The pedestrians below on the streets of Ostuni,
Before people realized you should watch your children
And not let them hang,...
I was there, diapered,
Watching Mom clean up the puddle of cat piss on the floor;
Mr. Smith did it,
While Bobby Kennedy was being killed.
I loved him—Mr. Smith,
And we sat on the balcony
Watching with fascination,
The pedestrians below on the streets of Ostuni,
Before people realized you should watch your children
And not let them hang,...
95 reads
18 Comments
Under The Radar
(Written for JR's competition, "Easy Like")
Lotto-winner, me--
Goodbye!
All this shit will cease, immediately;
Life as it is, now.
My Bank-Of-Mom duty, I'll uphold,
Pay for your college,
Whatever else you need.
The rest will be gone with me,
Disappeared off the radar
Of those I no longer care to associate with,
Which is most people right now.
Except a choice few,
You,
Him--the one I wish I'd met 25 years ago,
A handful of others.
I'll have my own train station,
And the train, too;
Go...
Lotto-winner, me--
Goodbye!
All this shit will cease, immediately;
Life as it is, now.
My Bank-Of-Mom duty, I'll uphold,
Pay for your college,
Whatever else you need.
The rest will be gone with me,
Disappeared off the radar
Of those I no longer care to associate with,
Which is most people right now.
Except a choice few,
You,
Him--the one I wish I'd met 25 years ago,
A handful of others.
I'll have my own train station,
And the train, too;
Go...
54 reads
5 Comments
Masshole
(Written for Hades' "Salmon vs. Salmon" competition)
Ya wanna know why we’re called “Massholes?”
‘Cuz we drive like a Bah-stin asshole.
We drop all our “R’s”,
Pahk the cah in the gah-raj
And say it like this: “Noo Yawk”.
The red fish it ain’t
Like a canna pink paint-
We pronounce it as “sammin’” ya know.
And that city that’s home to WPI-
Ya, that ain’t “Wor-chester” like it looks;
That we call “Wister”—gud Lord, hit the spellin’ books!
Welcum ta the N’or East paht of the cun-tree—
‘Ya betta getcha Yankee-on,...
Ya wanna know why we’re called “Massholes?”
‘Cuz we drive like a Bah-stin asshole.
We drop all our “R’s”,
Pahk the cah in the gah-raj
And say it like this: “Noo Yawk”.
The red fish it ain’t
Like a canna pink paint-
We pronounce it as “sammin’” ya know.
And that city that’s home to WPI-
Ya, that ain’t “Wor-chester” like it looks;
That we call “Wister”—gud Lord, hit the spellin’ books!
Welcum ta the N’or East paht of the cun-tree—
‘Ya betta getcha Yankee-on,...
64 reads
9 Comments
The Recessional March
Where have my yesterdays gone—
The ones when I sat with you on the swings,
Laughing in the sun
And feeling like I do now,
At the thought of you beginning pre-school, the very next day?
The swing set is gone,
And the pool, devoid of its children
Who used to splash in the August heat.
The Lord whispered to me:
“For My wind will blow away the staleness, the familiar, the comfortable, but it will blow in a new thing.”
But I can’t bring myself to talk with Him, right now.
The years are gone,
Not all of them good,
But all of them,...
The ones when I sat with you on the swings,
Laughing in the sun
And feeling like I do now,
At the thought of you beginning pre-school, the very next day?
The swing set is gone,
And the pool, devoid of its children
Who used to splash in the August heat.
The Lord whispered to me:
“For My wind will blow away the staleness, the familiar, the comfortable, but it will blow in a new thing.”
But I can’t bring myself to talk with Him, right now.
The years are gone,
Not all of them good,
But all of them,...
58 reads
4 Comments
Jumpin' Jazz Gods
Written for Hades' "Damn The Gods" competition
(To the tune of Judy Garland’s “Get Happy” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2U-rBZREQMw )
Hey all you false gods, you know what’s comin’
There’s gonna be a price to pay.
Hey all you false gods, I’m happy, hummin’
This little tune I wrote today.
How ‘bout you, Allah, the god of Islam;
You fooled Mohammed and all his kin.
You said the virgins would keep them all warm,
But you danced them into sin.
And there’s a million gods of Hindu,
Polytheism, at its best.
Holy...
(To the tune of Judy Garland’s “Get Happy” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2U-rBZREQMw )
Hey all you false gods, you know what’s comin’
There’s gonna be a price to pay.
Hey all you false gods, I’m happy, hummin’
This little tune I wrote today.
How ‘bout you, Allah, the god of Islam;
You fooled Mohammed and all his kin.
You said the virgins would keep them all warm,
But you danced them into sin.
And there’s a million gods of Hindu,
Polytheism, at its best.
Holy...
61 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by MadameLavender