Dallas the Saga: Part 1



I do not like to go to bed at night. I've always been this way...I remember as a child, we lived in a microscopic married student housing apartment at the University of Iowa (555 Hawkeye Court). I used to crawl silently out of bed and peek my head out behind the couch to watch Monty Python's Flying Circus. I always thought the accents were funny, but at age eight the innuendo and dry British humor eluded me totally.

Adulthood, not surprisingly, has brought few changes. (Although I now understand most of Monty Python, save the quirky colloquialisms that undoubtedly make some of OUR comedy exports confusing to the Brits.) I still find it difficult to get to bed at a reasonable hour. In the absence of a parent, this can create some exhausted work where everything seems to be in a mundane parallel universe that you can interact with somewhat unpredictable success.

Well, staying up late is a disease, it seems, and such was the case last night.

Imagine my surprise when the phone rang before my alarm clock this morning. I picked it up to the cheerful greeting of an airline representative. She informed me that the first leg in my two flight trek to Dallas had been canceled. Why? I inquired. Weather, she said and offered me the option of going from Mpls to Chicago to Kansas City to Dallas. The new itinerary would take 5 1/2 hours longer and feature a four hour lay over in Chicago's fabulous Midway airport (yay!)

Airports are so surreal. Where else do all consumable goods cost twice as much as an already overly spendy 7-11 store and nobody seems to have any idea how completely inane it is.

I guess this is why I'm a liberal......

We arrived without incident in Chicago, and upon finding my gate, I stacked my luggage on an empty bench, leaned on them and slept soundly for 11/2 hours. At least I thought it was 1 1/2 hours because the Nintendo 64 watch from my bag reflected that. Soon I realized that my watch had been in the bag for about a month. Daylight savings time was upon us and I was unprepared!! Ah...2 1/2 hours.....bonus. I was able in the remaining time to absorb a bit of travel color. A woman talked intensely about the airline's conspiracy to steal her money and pin her as an international drug dealer. She had quite a few people convinced and riled against the airline....angry with THE MAN and such.

Time to pay $3.50 for a hot dog....

There were thunderstorms in Chicago today. Thunderstorms that arrived from the west. We were headed west. Time for the waiting to begin and it lasted an hour and a half while they waited for storm clouds to pass and flights to be rerouted. At this point, my "Zenny" Minnesota-niceness was beginning to clash somewhat with my "Will-I-even-get-there?" neurosis and I started to feel a bit panicky. At long last, though, we were on the flight to Kansas City.

More Diet Coke...more honey roasted peanuts. Sustenance for the 90's.

Observed coming back from the bathroom: Five balding men in a row of aisle seats-reclined with arms elderly man reading a book: _God_On_A_Harley_...a brother and sister doing home work. He: Algebra. She: American History.

I'm pondering today's flights: more turbulence in three flights than I've experienced in all my years of air travel. Turbulence makes you lose your stomach like an amusement park ride. It's really fun as long as you don't think about the fact that you're 31,000 feet in the air going at about 250 m.p.h. I find that suspension of disbelief is useful in situations like these.....

Quite an adventure so far. :)

Part II



Dallas the Saga: Part 2

Upon landing in Dallas, about six hours late and after the Texas sun had passed beyond the horizon, I checked my lipstick (Ultima II really does stay on remarkably well), fluffed my hair and bounded as quickly as I could from the airplane to meet my friends. Now Chris is a long time net friend of mine. One of these people I feel I can truly be myself with, yet we'd never had the time to really hang out for an extended period of time, thus the trip. Because the flights were canceled, however, he was working and thus unable to pick me up at the airport. He sent his girlfriend Noelle, who I'd come to really like over the preceding months. I am very nervous about meeting new people, so knowing that she would be at the airport instead of Chris made me a little bit apprehensive, but I was at this point ready to complete my trek to Dallas and start on the holiday itself. There were mountains of people waiting to meet the flight. All of the usual "meeting someone at the airport" fare was, balloons, even signs with quickly scrawled names on them...but no Noelle.

-I'm late- I decided. She's looking for me at another gate. Then I reasoned: -She's in the bathroom...she'll be out in a minute Then panic set in: -She's ditched me.-

Irrational? Yes.

Luckily in my rush to leave the airport that morning I remembered to tuck Chris's pager number in my luggage, so I felt a sense of relief that I'd be claimed eventually. I walked to a nearby pay phone and inserted my local call quarter to page him.

"Hi! You've reached Chris's pager. You can either leave a numeric message at any time by pressing up to 21 digits, followed by the pound sign or leave a voice message, by waiting for the beep, leaving your message, pressing no buttons and hanging up. Thank you."

Normally this message would be appreciated. It's concise and detailed enough to reduce user errors to a bare minimum. But at this point, I needed a panic button. I was tired and in Texas _alone_ for goodness sakes and nobody was there to pick me up!! I left a message saying that I had arrived and that nobody had been at the airport to pick me up. I thought I sounded very cool, collected....laizze faire if you will.

I went to the bathroom, listening intently for the pay phone to ring. Later I sat down near the gate and started to observe the world around me. It was then that I noticed the concourse was being roped off by zombie tired looking men and women anxious to be at home in time for Letterman. I wondered at that point if Noelle was even able to enter the airport, and as a second contingency if her telephone number was listed in the metro phone book. (I'd neglected to bring it with me.) A security guard pointed me to a Dallas white pages and confirmed my fear. The concourse was locked and she would not be able to enter. So, forgetting the idea of looking up her phone number, I stepped through the security system, my suitcase rolling safely behind me and into the free world. I started to walk down a set of stairs that I always walk down when going to Dallas when I heard my name: "Ronda?"

I turned and saw Noelle, face twisted with the same panic I was feeling as she clutched a telephone receiver. I was saved!

Uh Oh.

I did not have my purse. Now I have to tell you, I have a pretty significant fear of losing my keys and purse. I'm not sure of the origin of this, but when you've been astute enough to notice right away, all the neurosis seems all that much more worth it.

I begged the afore mentioned security guard to let me back onto the concourse to retrieve it. He took pity on me and there it was....sitting next to the pay telephone, the scrap of paper with Chris's pager number still balanced on top.

It was a this point that I decided Murphy's Law had invaded my holiday a few times already and I pushed that rule of cynicism and paranoia away from me for the remainder of the trip.

Meeting new people face to face is something I find very difficult. I'm quite shy from the outset if I'm not in a safety zone. This confuses some people because I can be bubbly and outgoing at some points ad quiet and reserved at others. It all has to do with how safe I perceive myself as being. I suppose we all suffer from this to some degree. I had been nervous about meeting Noelle. I'd only known her for a few months, after all, and I was about to spend several days with her virtually without separation. The circumstances of our first contact, however, seemed to melt all that apprehension from me. We were comfortable from the start.

Noelle has three cats (as do I). They are Amber, Mally (Malachite) and Joey. Joey was her Grandmother's cat. He's from Canada like Noelle and is to say the least, unique. He is a Morris type cat, that is, short haired caramel tabby cat. He's a lumbering fellow with large bones and a wide face. His eyes are set wide and when he looked at me, I was unable to resist. Joey and I became fast friends. He is, however, the most eccentric of cats and probably not the most clever. He spends hours pawing at anything reflective, making himself increasingly angrier as the cat staring back at him refuses to back away. Joey is in the middle of everything. Noelle assures me it would drive me nuts on a daily basis ,but I was entranced.

Much of my trip was spent driving from place to place, since Dallas is very spread out (they've got so much land in Texas) and going out to eat (they also have a lot of restaurants). I've recently developed quite a taste for margaritas, so I had several while I was there. It was a great deal of fun.

On Saturday we went to a Renaissance Fair in full costume. I've never had the courage to do it before, but Noelle made an gorgeous skirt, blouse and bodice and I looked very enticing, not to mention bustier than I've ever looked in public! I had a really nice time. So many people were in costume and the detail work on them was incredible.

We also spent some time at a park while Chris played Amtgard, one of their favorite past times. I'd only heard of it through Chris and his descriptions always left me wondering. It was good to see it finally in action. Amtgard is a group of people who recreate medieval battles. It's somewhat like live action role playing, but not entirely. People are required to create a persona and personal history for said persona. They gather period clothing, called "garb" to wear and must make weapons. The weapons are all safely padded, so nobody gets injured. They have hit points and special skills and abilities like role playing, but they're not required to follow some sort of pre defined plot like traditional rp'ing. I had a lot of fun watching the battles , and they were a lot less violent than I'd expected. These people aren't there to beat up on one another. They're there to have fun and it shows.

Later that night we went to a place called Fun Fest. It's a complex with a video arcade, bowling (disco bowling with colored lights, retro 80's club music and a smoke machine - very cool), kids games (like bang the frog's head in....roll the ball up and hope it lands in an inner ring etc.), a bar, pool, laser get the idea. Now, I've never been one to enjoy a lot of video games, but I discovered a new one from Japan called San Francisco Rush. It's a car racing game that allows you to sit down as though you're in a car seat. There are speakers around your head that amplify the sounds of the virtual race track. The seat actually bounces you around as you drive and the steering wheel is even set up to resist like an actual car was. The game cost a dollar to play and the four of us must have raced at least four times. Every time I ended up in last place. I chalk this up to the fact that I spent a lot more time crashing into walls and taking out trees than actually racing on the track....I might suck at video games, but I had a fantastic time and I can't wait to play it again.

So you see, I had a really really nice time on my trip.

Part I



Happy New Year!

(We'll call it 00 for short.)
I was really prepared for something spectacular. 

Mass suicides.  Bombings.  Tragedy. The chance to see Tom Brokaw
with red rimmed eyes as he struggles to maintain composure. 

Was I ever disappointed!  Not even a little  hysteria to quell my
media sensation hungry soul.  Did I expect the computers of
the world to suddenly cease function in some quazai protest of a
few outdated lines of Cobal coding?  Did I believe the world economy
would suddenly fall into tattered bits around the ladder climbing
ankles of those who benefit from an unprecedented growth spurt in the
American economy? 

No.  00 didn't come bearing that gift. 

I just wanted a little eye candy to cheer me. After all the build up, the
years of teasers, the made for tv movies...I figured they owed me! 

Granted, watching a Prince and Prime Minister grasp hands over crossed
arms with the Queen of England as though she were some sort of New Years
Turkey wishbone was a chuckle.  The fact that this was directly followed by
a "sensual aerial ballet" involving two almost naked trapeze artists
performing some sort of flying new years foreplay bordered on the bizarre.

I must admit to a bit of curiosity about all
that dehydrated 00 food.  It seems that everyone I know has a friend, family
member, or perhaps they're only willing to admit to an acquaintance, who has
filled a basement, a cabin, a closet, or even a cupboard with 00 food stores. 
Internet survivalist web sites had a record year. While they were eager to
help shelter people from impending doom, I doubt the return policy will be
quite so friendly.  By the same token, I find it difficult to believe
Dick and Jane Apocalypse will be serving 4 cases of 00 whole egg powder and
2 cases of bacon flavored 00 TVP to their two teen age children for the next
12 months.  I just hope they have the 00 ammo locked safely in another

So it's happened.  The 00 phenomenon was nothing more than an over-hyped
opportunity for yet another novelty company to pollute the earth with Y2K
merchandise that finds its way to the landfill faster than you can sing Auld
Lang Syne.

And we thought everything would be different.

All the best in 2000!

Paper Dresses


Like the flat, tabbed dresses of a child's paper dolls my eating disorder clings to me. It gives the illusion that it's indeed part of me and so often I fall into that belief until one of those paper tabs comes loose and I shake my self free of the of its shackles.

With the dress, I am protected from world. It hides the real me a facade to show the world. Someone who is strong, funny...someone who isn't afraid. Someone without scars or baggage. Someone who isn't real.

Paper Dresses are Versatile.
The paper dress changes. I can be who I want on any given day. Tough. Sassy. Funny. Cool. Shy.

Paper Dresses are Protective.
They cover the real me. They hide what's really going on. They keep me from ACTUALLY being presentable to the real world. I never have to brush my real hair..the doll hair is always smooth and styled.

Paper Dresses are 2 dimensional.
When I wear a paper dress..I don't have to feel....I don't have to bear the intensity of emotion that apparently makes me human. I can exist without having to deal with the pain. The pleasure. I can be numb within my two dimensional world and nobody can hurt me.

Paper Dresses are 2 dimensional.
Of course, it's hard being 2 dimensional in a 3 dimensional world. People find it strange to interact with someone so out of synch with them. They get itchy. They go away. They leave me alone all dolled up in my paper.

Paper Dresses are Flammable.
It's the nature of paper to burn when hit by a spark. For the smoke to curl around my dress as it turns to a thin layer of blackened carbon. Exposing me. Singing me.

Paper Dresses Shred.
Not very durable, these. I need to replace them with new styles often. Never get comfortable in paper dresses...they're only temporary.

Paper Dresses Cling.
Tabs of paper clutching your body. They constrict your breathing. They don't let you go. They hang on for better or for worse.

I want to be rid of my paper wardrobe. I want to breathe in the scary and sometimes poisonous air of emotion. I want to be real and for that to be ok. I want not to be resting on a fulcrum between the abysses of happiness and despair. I want stability. I want to be standing. Fat or Not. On solid ground, wrapped in the wool sweater of reality, my paper wardrobe and paper self burning high in a bonfire of triumph



Teen  Angst Poetry & Prose

Have you ever run across a tattered notebook or a pile of papers from long ago?   This happened to me a few years ago. It was a bright purple six subject notebook emblazoned with my University's Logo.  I'd purchased it when I was still in Junior High School, I think, on one of many trips there after school. My father was studying for (another) Master's degree (that he wouldn't finish-as is his custom).

Inside there were piles and piles of prose and poetry I'd written as a pre-to late teen.  Most of it excruciatingly bad.

The first time I put this stuff out on the web, my intention was simply to laugh at myself, and it remains a good exercise in humility, I think...but as I look them again today, I feel stricken by the overwhelming fear I had as a child that I would be alone.

It's a fear so strong it's followed me well into adulthood.  It's just a shame I wasn't able to express it more eloquently.




Bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

Iíve searched

A symbol of our love 

Iíve searched so long for the perfect guy
And I guess Iíve come up with you
you have dried my tears and held me high
and made me feel brand new
At night I dream of your embrace
And wish I was in your arms
You would hug me tight and keep me safe
Away from every harm
When I awaken from my sleep
Again your lips touch mine
And in my heart, my hopes and dreams
Are growing for all time.


The sun peeked out from behind the sun
The morning of our first meeting
You smiled a smile that warmed the earth
And sent my heart of beating
The days we spent together
Were by far the best Iíve had
You would make me laugh to tears of joy
But never tears of sad
But the sun was sure to leave
Back to its cloud of fleece
when I left our paradise
our small refuge of peace
For days when I came home
My days had turned to nights.
Full of restless pain
And never ending plights
But one day when I arose
I saw a golden beam
That shown down from the sky
In a bright and brilliant gleam
I was handed the smallest paper
That said ďto me from youĒ
And when opened it revealed
Your love for me was true
So now the sun remains
Shining bright above
As a symbol of our friendship
A symbol of our love.


All my hopes have left my reach
And now alone I stand
My dreams of a deserted ocean beach
Have suddenly left my hand
I thought Iíd bee taught before
Not to step off the ground
To cimb the steps and fall in love
Trying to find what I had never found
But I listened not to mymind
And followed instead my heart
Not looking back, just trudging on
I only hoped my dream would spark
But myheart lost the battle
Now screams out loud in pain
Inside me now it eternally bleeds
To my life it eternally stains



Bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry


A Teardrop Falls 

I have waited it seems
A year of Mondays
I tell you its not the best day
You wasted your time
on someone else
you let them lead you astray
But now that I have you
I swear not to lose you
together eternally last
For with me you will be happy
And never look back
upon your rigged past.



I look upon the setting sun
I see a teardrop fall
In times of good and times of fun
I never heard you call
I waited by the phone
Each day and every night
Sitting home alone
And hoped with all my might
As I gave up every chance
For love with other guys
As I gave up every dance
And listened to your lies
Then one day the answer came
No longer was I blue
I would not have to wait in shame
For someone who was true
He came from out of nowhere
And cut my burdens free
At last someone to care and share
And give his love to ME



bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry


Donít forget the times of fun


When the brilliant sun                              
Seems duller every day
Donít forget the times of fun
Donít let them slip away.
When the deep blue sky
Is Graying ever fast
Donít forget the times of fun
IN your heart they will always last
If the shining stars
Seem fewer every night
Donít forget the times of fun
Hang on with all your might
If the glowing moon
Is losing all its gleam
Donít forget the times of fun
ALWAYS chase your dreams



Forever we have been together
And now you have to leave
But before you go I want you to know
In only you I believe
Iíll be here when you return
When again you will hold me tight
But before you go, I want you to know
Iíll look forward to that night
This is the last chance I have
To give my love to you
But before I go, I want you to know
Our love will forever stay true.




 bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

From the Corner 


Iíve been standing back
watching the world go by
watching the fighting
watching the pain
From my small oasis of peace
I view the earthís short days
People hurting people
And not taking a second to care
Then by chance I see you
From the corner of my eye
I watch you go about your days
In a kind and sharing way
Then before I step from my corner
into the world again
I take a minute to contemplate
and because of you itís not so bad after all


When morning breaks the blackened sky
And shines on sleeping earth
The birds sing cheerful happy songs
To celebrate dayís birth
Sticky dew drowns green grass
And morning Gloryís bloom
While billowing clouds appear above
To clean away nightís gloom.
Tide moves out from the beachís sand
Shells are left to dry
Only to be found and used
to brighten a childís eyes
As the sun grows warmer
The glories hide their eyes
From the growing day
That bleeds into the sky



 bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry


Christmas Hopes 


Christmas time is here once more
Halls are decked and such
Wreaths adorn your own front door
All admired very much
On Christmas day do gather kin
And bring to all glad tidings
You greet them all, then enter in
And children sit abiding
Rings the bell for dinner, at last
Your eyes fall on a feast
Your aim, to eat, and eat, THEN fast
For a week, a month at least.
Now the time you have long awaited
The packages under the tree
You have longed to tear each tag and bow
From each present marked for ďmeĒ
You take your turn and open them fast
And love each single one
You wish this day would last and last
But in just minutes it is gone
So cherish every Christmas
Donít have a heavy heart
For twelve short months will have to pass
And again the cheer will start.


A seed was put into the earth
The very day we met
And from that first shy smile
The soil on top was set
A seedling sprang up from the ground.
When we first said ďHiĒ
And when we first brushed arms by chance
The sun shone from the sky
Our seedling formed to sapling
As our friendship grew
Each day I longed to hear your voice
OUR friendship was true
Then our tree at last was tall
And reaching for the sky
Its boughs a mass of green above
To ground its roots did tie
So fast our time together
Would come and quickly end
Three months without you near me.
A smile you cannot send
The leaves upon our tree
Dulled from green to borwn
And winter winds from east to west
Ripped a tree limb down
My lonliness was present
It haunted night and day
I sat there every morning
And wished my sadness away
And one day by surprise
Snow melted from the grass
And slowly our time apart
Was coming to its pass
I saw you wave to me
From a window near
So happy was my heart
That then I lost all fear
Of further times apart
Without you near my side
So never will I have to cry
Or sad feelings have to hide



bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

Alone She Sits 

The Compliment 

Alone she sits and softly cries
Do they know she is there?
She sits and thinks of times before
And doesnít think itís fair
Her friends are busy, too busy for her
She is left alone again
She sits and thinks of times before
Remembers all the pain
As she wonders if they see her
In the room alone
She sits and thinks of times before
Sheís out there on her own.



I want to suggest a new Beatitude: ďBlessed
are the sincere who pay compliments.Ē
For I have just had a compliment, and it has
changed my day.
            I was irritated. Tired. Discourage. Nothing
seemed much use. Now suddenly all this is changed.
          I feel a spurt of enthusiasm, of energy and
joy.  I am filled with hope.  I like the whole world
better, and myself, and even you.
            Lord, bless the person who did this for me.
            He probably hasnít the faintest idea how
his few words affected me.  But wherever he is,
whatever heís doing, bless him.  Let him too
feel this sense of fulfillment, this recharge
of fire and faith and joy.
            Thank you, God, for this simple miracle so
available to all of us.  And that we donít have
to be saints to employ its power.
            Remind me to use it more often to heal and
lift and fortify other lives: a compliment!



bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry



As the dew
Falls on the grass
A bird sings
To a bug
About a cloud
And a mushroom
Where is the mushroom?
Below the dew
Sheltered by the clouds
Guarded by the grass
Invaded by the bug
And the bird
ďWhy!Ē screams the bird
ďIs the mushroom here?Ē
Being bothered by the bug
Crawling over the des
That lies on the grass
Below the clouds
Because the clouds rule the bird
And the grass carpets the soil
The mushroom wants only to be noticed
Under the glimmer of the dew
And not to be pestered by the bug
But the bug
Saw the cloud
Felt the dew
And ran from the bird
But tripped on the mushroom
And fell into the grass
The grass cushioned
the bug
that tripped over the mushroom
it looked at the clouds above
as the birds sing
about the dew
But as the clouds begin to gather
and the bug hides under the mushroom
as the dew is washed away from the grass


While the sun is in the sky
The doll sits alone
In a large room
Looking out the window
At a child
Full of hope
Why is there hope?
Because of the sun
Tanning the child
And the doll sits alone
Looking out of the window from the room
In the room
Full of hope
Through the window
Shines the sun
On the doll
Neglected by the child
Can the child
Look up to the room
And see the doll
And the hope
Through he sun
In the window
To the window
The child ran
Past the sun
And into the room
Is filled with hope
And grabs the doll
The joyful doll
Is taken from the window
In gaining hope
From the child
And from the room
Into the sun
As the sun shone through
The window of the room
The hope filled doll and child
Play about in joy.



bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry


The Open Minded 

Through each day did I walk
With no regard to time
I smiled a smile of honesty
I dreamed my way through night
I awoke with the sun to another day
Just me, alone in my paradise
Never a worry in paradise
Always a path on which to walk
It started anew with everyday
And made its way through time
Leading each day into night
With a never deceiving honesty
But not until now do I know of true honesty
The peace broken in my paradise
When the light of the moon was hidden one night
Then came another on my path did he walk
He spoke not a word for the longest time
The sun hid its face that mysterious day
The gently falling rain would not cease this day
The loud crash of thunder made me distrust his honesty
But deep feelings inside of me tempted for a time.
I thought nothing of my lost paradise
I only longed side by side with him to walk
And our desires would fill each moon lit night
Gazing starry eyed at the heavens each night
With but one kiss to brighten the day
Together we chose but one path on which to walk
To look into his eyes there was honesty
For which I cared for more than a childhood paradise.
By this I had grown in the essence of time.
Though I hate to admit it, quickly by passed the time
And our paths parted silently deep in the night
Each letting go our dreams of paradise
We had lost on another to the truth of the day
Feeling then, the absence of honesty
As sadly I continued to walk
Alone we both walk through all time eternal
Because our faith in honesty was lost one dark lonely night
Maybe some happy day, Iíll accept all
Thatís happened but never will I forget
Because you are my paradise.
Fourteen million miles away
My mind flies away
To bump among the other souls
Which gather in the empty spaces
To clutter the skies.
Glittering stars shine down
Upon the souls who are content
To stay tucked into themselves
Without shine, without breath, without life
I can float above gravity to reflect
To learn, to understand.


Children flinch
Dart the flying shards
Daddyís mad again
Hide the baby!
Donít let her cry
Daddy might visit
Cover ears
Muffle his words.
They sting
Mommy screams,
Covers her bleeding nose
Daddy is sorry
They kiss
They go to ďtalkĒ
Muffle the sounds
They sting

It Survives 

The glistening dewdrop stands still
After the wind has blown and cut
            leaves from trees and snagged branches
            from trunks:
The drop survives.
The teardrop yet flows
It exists after the fiery clashes cut
            father from son and daughter from
            motherís wombs:
The drop survives.





 bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

Untitled in Spain Untitled 
Iíve lost my way here
There are curving twining roads
And Iíve lost my way
Iím confused by the flickering shadows
That beckon me to come
Because I donít know where they lead
Nothing is comprehendible
Itís all a blur
I canít even make out the colors
Before me
Where is the end of this labyrinth?
Do you know the way?
There are curving twining roads here
And Iíve lost my way
I canít find a lantern
To help me see my path
Itís been lost in the rubble
Iíve left before
What is this place?
Does it have a name?
There are curving twining roads here
And Iíve lost my way
Am I alone in this endless maze?
I havenít seen another searching for an end
Are there others here with me?
Or am I alone?
When will the shadows leave?
When will the sky lighten?
For there are curving winding roads here
And Iíve lost my way.

Spain 17-Julio-1.987


Were it not for your gentle words
Rubbing smooth the bumps in my twisting path of life
Were it not for your laughter
Making me realize Iím losing my way
Were it not for your anger
Were it not for your joy
I would only be alone.
Had you not been there when I held myself down
Had you not pulled me back up
Had you ignored my silly games
And let them destroy what we had worked hard to build
I would still be alone today
If ever I should need that reassuring glance
Or that verbal slap to my face
If ever Iím really down and
Ripping myself to shreds
Wherever I may be, thanks to you
Iíll never be alone




 bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

After The Fight  Re-Occurring Dream 
I see the shaking head, the bouncing, pointed finger
I see my father grasp his faceÖsupport for his suffering brain?
It seems so simple to him, he pulled it off without a hitch.
Why canít the child see it clearly?
He throws me a smug smile when the argument is too silly-
In his eyes.
I lose privileges if I do the same.
He sees using those wounding words
As some sort of parental birthright.
For the child, itís purely sarcasm and wonít be tolerated.
Big brother says Iíll understand when Iíve matured.
Yet, I canít convince myself that he himself doesÖ
Isnít HE the one who calls weekly with his
Biggest crisis yet?
then hangs up quickly in disgust when Father shows
The error of his ways?
Perhaps one day, Iíll agree.
Mom doesÖusuallyÖ
Because Iíll be the one groping for my forehead
The one with the aching brain,
And Iíll be searching for a trace of reasonÖ
Why canít the child see it clearly, Iíll ask?
Iíll love the chance to see such a ďsimpleĒ life.
But, that is far off into my futureÖmaybe.
For now, I want to be left alone
To bask in my own self pity,
And to poutÖa little.
I have that right, donít I?
After all, Iím still ďthe child.Ē



She lies twisting, turning, twitching
Another nighttime horror penetrates her sleep.
Translucently clear, the pictures fly before her, torment her
Faceless corpses, laid to rest in blood stained fatigues,
Skin never cleansed white, or black, or yellow
Faces never shaved
The reek, embalming fluid stench, repulses her
Forcing her stomach muscles into strong uncontrollable
Spasms, releasing the food she did not eat.
Suddenly, the men grab her, the two strange men
They clench her arms, arresting her blood, her life, her joy
Emotions robbed, she sits curled in the back of a dark bouncing truck
Into the night, she travels to the hospitalóthrough endless
Ever deepening potholes.

A cold sweat on her forehead, she sits up, wipes the moisture away

Recognizing her surroundings, turns and reclaims her troubled slumber.




bad Teen Angst Prose & Poetry

Dream 3/29&30/84

There was a horrible storm.  No rain but a lot of wind & lightening.  When I got up and looked out the window of my room. It must have been a very old house and there was a window at the left of one of the walls.  I looked out, curious of what damage had been done.  When I looked down to the old grave yard, one of the tombs (The body was buried above the ground) anyway the rounded top of the grave had blown off in the storm (It was stone, cement or some other very heavy substances) lay above five feet away, a body lay exposed looking like it was ready for burial.  It was as woman. She was old and wrinkles, she had snow white hair and bony features, here face looked as if there were nothing to it but bones with enough skin for two of her type.  She was wearing a soft green gown and it waved about in the morning breeze.  She had fresh and colorful flowers all about her having one flowering bouquet of red roses about her hands.  Curious as to what was going on I went down an antique solid oak open staircase carpeted in plush red.  When I opened the heavy wood doors and went outside, I realized that I had neglected to put on day clothes. So far entranced I did nothing about it.  In finding when this woman was put to rest, my mouth fell open in awe.  For it was over one hundred years from that time.  The womanís name was Elanore Richmond.  My great great grandmother. (I donít REALLY have a great great grandmother name E. Richmond)  The woman blinked, I had had enough. I let out a scream that must have penetrated the ears of all, for five miles around. I turned and was ready to run, a soft and sweet yet demanding voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

            ďDonít run, dear. I must have fallen asleep. Will you help me into the house?Ē  I squeezed my hands and tried to wake, this is a dream, wake up and it will all be over.  I did not awaken and  it was not over.  I turned unwillingly around. It was like the woman was forcing me. Like whatever her will, I was her worker.  as I very slowly approached her she reached out her long bony handÖÖ


 ©2001-2003 ©2002 Ronda Sly This page last updated:    10/04/2004