Good Old Paper and Pen

Woe be me

Woe be gone

(c)pix2012FrancesOhanenye

That appointment not kept

Failing to commit to her bidding

The head honcho’s heralding

I committed it to phone’s memory

Saving mine for love’s recordings

Waiting to hear beeping summon

Company policy killed the sound

All phones lost monologic voices

Should have committed it

That appointment not kept

To good old paper and pen

Needing no sound, just presence

Woe be me

Woe be gone

That appointment not kept

Cost me my job
No tears wept

Something better
This way comes

©2012FrancesOhanenye

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

Working for Wood

My kitchen, my kitchen

Saving for months and months

Scraping, scrimping, suffering

Dropping Lincoln, Jefferson

Roosevelt, Washington, and Kennedy

Light hardwood floor
(c)pix2012FrancesOhanenye 

Into bottomless pit of a jar

Working for wood

Hard, shinning, long living

The kitchen floor finished

Gave my soul a respite

Gave my hands less cleaning

Polishing and waxing

No water for the thirsty floor

The doggone dog caused heart attack

The dripping, drooling, drooping dog

Standing on dark hardwood floor
(c)pix2011FrancesOhanenye 

Slobbered, soaked, and trailed saliva

On precious wooded kitchen floor

Fit to be tied and fists tightly folded

My bathroom, my bathroom

Saving for months and months

Scraping, scrimping, suffering

Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln

Hamilton, Jackson, Grant, and Franklin

Allowed familiarity and ease of getting

The rest, snobbish and far flung

Standoffish and playing hard to get

McKinley, Cleveland, Madison

Chase and Wilson, heavy hitters

Dreaming the dream of marble floor

Finished floor gave steps pride

Polishing and waxing, gleaming

The doggone dog caused heart attack

Please, avoid Princess’ peeing, please

Peeing on polished, pristine floor

The doggone, doggone dog

Fit to be tied and fists tightly folded

 

©2011FrancesOhanenye

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

Crinkle Fries Drapery

 Hunger drives mirage on the asphalt of sanity

Perception lies like an unfaithful spouse

Headaches and growling drummers

Beat resonance at stomach’s command

A distance left behind many million miles

The color of food comes in unnatural shades

Intense hunger amplifies sharpened perception

Wouldn’t it be heavenly for a glass of water

Right about now

Wouldn’t it be divine for a slice of bread

Right about now

Common things no longer ordinary

Smells, the artillery bombarding sanity

Enslaving the tongue’s gluttonous self

www.smilesteady.com

That drapery the shade of crinkle fries

Lies and deceives like that spouse

Holding the heart in heartless palm

That drapery the shape of crinkle fries

Deceives the senses shamelessly

Strips and strips of potato’s selves

Evoking mentality’s delusion of reality

Soft, ever so soft, gives under

Not hard, not fried or baked, soft

Forcing reality to face itself head on

Regret eats away what hunger left behind

©2012FrancesOhanenye

--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.

A Day Made Better

©2010FrancesOhanenye

Come, morning, come
Pull me out of warm, down comfortableness
Come, energy, come
Fill me with decaffeinated vigor
I rise with reduced self-resolve
There are those who smile in the morning
There are those who speak in the morning
Those who show kindness in the morning
Seem endangered due to mad-rush traffic
Seem endangered due to selfish inhumanity

Come, morning, come
Pull me into a day made better
Those who smile in the morning
Those who speak pleasantly in the morning
Those who show kindness in the morning
Make my morning a day made better
I bless each one of you
Seemingly endangered due to rush hour
Others’ excuse for inconsideration
I bless each one of you
Making my morning a day made better
Little things that mean the world

©2012FrancesOhanenye



--My dream has loved paper so much for so long because it gave influence to the parched voice of a fashionista poet. Finding this outlet, that voice is now replete with expressive sound.