Shy-Low Series

While I toil away on a writing/illustration project dear to my ‘monsterish’ heart, I hope you don’t mind more youth-fare. I’m having way too much fear-fun perusing my teen journal(s). Reading ‘backwards,’ reminds me of sadder, awkward times. I’m relievedย  shades of darkest blue leaked out when I was a kid. These days I spend much of my time, tickled pink. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Shy
In my lifetime
I must have used up
over 3 reams of loose-leaf
โ€“ letters to you
but the only ones you ever received
were birthday greetings
and get well soons

My Music
When the symphony plays
No one can touch me
The music I hear
No one else can

Mind me
Here I am
Again
alone at last
I don’t mind
’til someone minds me

Low
do you see me
i’m feeling so low
please don’t push me
i don’t wanna go
unspoken comments
so cunningly snide
cut off and choked
my last ounce of pride
i’m not feelin’ real young
’cause my bleedin’ heart
died

Hair Hiding

Hair Hiding

May you dream of your sadness floating away in a bubble…

All ‘poems’ written 1977-78, Hair Hiding created in 2014 with Prisma pencil.

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10 thoughts on “Shy-Low Series

  1. AM, this is so enlightening to read your youthful poetry and as I’ve already mentioned, you certainly should be proud — you were darn good even then! Check out “Mortified Nation,” a documentary on Netflix (or here for trailer: https://youtu.be/x3DmdV9XByY). People stand up and read from their diaries. You might enjoy.

    I’m impressed by how sophisticated and deep your work was (and no rhyming scheme! geez, I’ve had so much trouble trying to get young students to avoid end-rhymes). And you know, reading “My Music” tells me that we actually are “invisible sisters” because I so understand that poem — that out-of-body sensation created by music as it lifts you into a beautiful, aesthetic world of your own.

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    • Now remember, Deb – I’m only showing the halfway decent ones – for every one of those, there are 10 lame pieces. If anyone read those, they’d have a good morning giggling ๐Ÿ™‚
      I was quite the sad sack youth – feeling oh, so gross and sorry for myself. I fondly recall those times now, because I believe I got most of that malaise out by writing these things – freeing me up for happy ๐Ÿ™‚ (well, most of the time ๐Ÿ˜‰ )
      Thanks for the link, I’ll check out.
      And I’ve never been partial to rhymes either, but a few words do seems to hit the ear the same way – and most of those lame poems I mentioned – RHYME – yikes ๐Ÿ™‚
      AM ๐Ÿ™‚

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      • You have to watch Mortification Nation if you felt like a sad sack then (I’m going to watch it tonight, Netflix streaming). I was a sad sack, too (I know, unbelievable, LOL). Really, I think many people are at that age, and some of us are just willing to admit it. I like some rhyme (internal) and as you say some words just go together. Anyhoo, Miss Poet, you know what you’re doing with words. ๐Ÿ™‚

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      • No, AM, the doc is actually quite funny (I think, I have to watch tonight); it’s like stand-up comedy. We’re almost in Traverse City — going back for the Mexican food and darn it I’m buying something at that great bookstore! Got your Email. Will respond when I get back. My thumbs are not good typists. ๐Ÿ™‚

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  2. I used to love to comb my wife’s hair, at least the first two wives. LOL Wife #1 was Korean, 4’8″ tall and 80 pounds slopping wet. She had long black hair that fell below her butt. It was straight as an arrow and fun to comb. Wife #2 has auburn hair that was beautiful. Hers was shoulder length. I comber hers every night as it made her frisky. ๐Ÿ™‚

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