Riddle of the day

Riddle of the Day

Arnold Schwarzenegger has a big one.
Michael J. Fox has a small one.
Madonna doesn't have one.
The Pope has one but doesn't use it.
Clinton uses his all the time.
Bush is one.
Mickey Mouse has an unusual one.
Liberace never used his on women.
Jerry Seinfeld is very, very proud of his.
Cher claims that she took on 3.
We never saw Lucy use Desi's.
What is it?




A last name!

You perverts thought I was gonna say Penis!!

I found this on Gather.com one of my networking places and had to post it here for ya'll!

Eleven Minutes

Oh, what poetry does pain bring.
The words inspired by misfortune and grief
seem to flow onto the page
with such ease
the writer holding the pen
so that the words themselves are so beautiful.
The tortured soul pouring out all
onto a page of indifference they run.
Pain so personal so real spills out,
the reader reaches into the page,
takes my pain as their own
feels the empathy-such is the way.
Still the pain doesn't go away.
Life distracts us mostly from the futility of it all.
Until, one moment shatters all the false joy.
Reminding me once again of my pain.
Eleven...

6-23-02

Making excuses...

So for fear that any of my readers will think ill of the darkness of my writings, most of what I have submitted was written at a point in my life where the shadows had come to stay. Every one has them, most don't confront them. I am confronting them now. I am putting myself out there to you my readers (if you are there) naked and exposed in an effort to overcome that paralyzing fear of rejection. I am facing my fears, letting the masses see work that NO ONE has ever laid eyes on but me.
So here I am literary world love me or hate me, this is who I am!

This is my disclaimer!!! Thanks Bobby!!! Hahaha!

Condemned

Past, Present, Future
There I stand
In judgement
Condemned, damned
I plead with the jury
the attorney, Judge.
None hear my case.
Bad decisions!
Wrong moves! I scream
Please, I beg, please!
Human, I plead.
Human deeds!
I cry into my hands,
sobbing and weeping.
The Judge sentances;
What's done is done,
what's said is said,
you are bad, bad, bad!!
My eyes look up in a haze
To the Judge I meet in a gaze
It is my own face
and voice reciting this
sentence to me
It is I who condemn
Still powerless I am
Over what I have decided.
Fear overcomes me
Engulfs me
The Judge screams
You are not worthy!
And I believe me.

Mother-in-law #1

(This is a funny dark little poem I wrote inspired by southern Mother-in-laws)

Rat shit
Cow spit
Vomit and snot!
Kittens are nice
Mother-in-laws are not!
From Hell do they rise
To hate and dispise
The wife in your life
For who knows what!
"Your hair's not right!"
They say just for spite!
"Our kind don't like your type!"
What class do they attend?
What course do they take,
To be such mean woman
to the wives that you take?

Human

An old woman told me I looked like a doll. An old black preacher man thanked me for making him feel welcome in this store and for not being blinded by color. He said, "Who knows, you might be an angel." I smiled and thanked him-but inside I raged-Angels can't be human! And human I am. Angels don't make mistakes, as a human I have. Dolls don't feel anything. Even when children cut off all their hair and they become ugly and aged, the doll smiles still in that perfect serenity. These strangers don't care about my past, it is of no consequence to them. Only the now matters. They don't see the hurt lost little girl. They only see a doll with angel's wings and that perfect serene smile that passes all the tests.

4/14/02

Thanks to Bobby Ozuna!

If you like the banners and artwork on my blog, go to Drawing Stories With Words and check out Bobby Ozuna. He designed the links and banners for me and is currently offering the same for those of you who do not want to use default images.

Blogspot.com/inotauthor for more on Bobby Ozuna
bobbyozunaonline.com
myspace.com/inotauthor

Thanks Bobby!!!

Strange 2001

The strangeness of the day complicates my thoughts
and my work althought the same, is taking on another form.

Kind faces seem strange.
The air is strange.
Mystery foul play.
It all incorporates today.

I can see the moon in all it's fullness
although the sun still shines.
Strange.

It's all so strange today.
There is death about,
rebirth is near.

The way I walk is still the same
and yet today it feels so strange.
I am a stranger in my body
everyone is strange.

Even though it is all the same
the only thing I can describe is
Strange.

Untitled from 2001

It scares me
the KNOWING of my mortality,
the UNDERSTANDING of nothing
the FEELING of empty.

Ironic how trials in life
inflict inpiration
where serenity does not.

Joy leaves no room for rhyme
forsaking time for life all around.
Sorrow stretches time so long
and leaves room to wonder
on how much is taken for granted
until there is no more left to take.

Words pour more from a wounded soul
on the grief and toil one could endure
and suffer no more.
As if to write could make it right.
One is left ot wonder...
Will I sleep tonight?

First, let me introduce myself...
My name is Jessie and I am aspiring to be an author. I have had a way with words since a young age or so my 7th grade English Lit. teacher told me. Spelling and grammar are however not my strong points. So this will be one blog that will be Filled with errors! I ramble alot and am very ver sarcastic...it's a gift. I love to network with others that are like minded and not.

I plan to post exerpts from the stories I am writing and some poetry from past writings.
Feel free to leave a comment on any of them, your criticism is welcome...just don't comment on my spelling or grammar...I know! I know! I will try to keep it to a minimum...

So sit back and enjoy...this will be quite an adventure!

Jessie