Latest Entries »

Ahh, a day that will go down in history. Ok, fine…not really. Just a day that I got what I wanted, and I wanted it bad!: Elite status on Yelp 🙂 I loved using it when I first discovered. People helped avoid the not so yummy places and find gems that I would have otherwise disregarded. So I had to show my thanks and yelp away! I’ve been a somewhat A.D.D. Yelp user, I will admit, but I’m trying hard to battle with it: reviewing a bunch of places in one sitting, and checking in when I’ve got wi-fi (or know someone who is nice enough to let me log into yelp on their smart phone…to those, it’s like a part of you is Elite too…but just a teeny, tiny, bit). I’ll keep yelping away, which comes natural to me. And I look forward to years of elite status (let’s hope they don’t throw me off the squad real fast!).


2 Stupid Things

My ex once said:


1. I don’t like running with you.

2. Couples that move in together are making a bad decision because it all goes downhill.


1. Well fuck you fatass. I don’t like running with you either.

2. Fuck you again. That’s how you figure out if the relationship works, dumbass.


So I have 4 final words: Go fuck yourself. HARD.

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

All We Need is Waldo

American flag, radio,

tv, cds,

Paints, posters,

crayons, colored pencils,

Desk organizer, pencil cases

Composition books.

Reading log, writing log, math log, science log

Secret Garden, Walk Two Moons, Hunger Games.

The series is in order.


World map, calendar,

drawings, postcards,

newspaper cut outs,


off the wall


out of the corner of her eye,

Table 4 chitter chatters.


Jansport, Jansport, Jansport,

Skullcandy makes backpacks?


The Statue of Liberty, The White House, The Boston Tea Party

And the home of Thomas Jefferson?


Newberry, Mystery


National Geographic.

Time for

Scholastic News for Kids.


Kenny, Robert

Spencer, Tyler

Jacob, Jake

Take a break.


Games manager, lunch helper.

And who’s the TA?


Sawyer and Hunter, at it again,

Can’t concentrate and pause the talking.


Flowers, potting soil, old hose.

April showers bring May plant-your-own-flowers.


Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas,

And Indians in a box.


Computers, keyboards, headphones,

collecting dust,

But iPads get some love.


White board, Promethean board,

Yet we can’t use either one.


Budget cuts and teacher layoffs

Lead to

Increase in class size.

Wanted and welcome: fancy gadgets.

What’s wrong with that picture?


Converse, Vans, Keds,

String, string, string.

Why can’t these girls leave

Leave cat’s cradle and friendship bracelets alone?


Office Depot pens, Ticonderoga wooden pencils.

Fractions, ratios, percents, proportions.

“I don’t get it.”

Directions, instructions.

“What do I do here?”

They never read.


Eyeglasses, hairclips, water bottles – empty and full.

Dictionaries, clocks,

Recycle bins, trashcans,

lunch bin, Paper bin, book bin,

fire extinguisher in

the room.


Fifty states, Angry Birds,

Diaries of Wimpy Kids.


Hey substitute,

“You can call me Bubba.”

“Like Bubba Gump?”

“Who’s Bubba Gump?”, says Robert “Bubba” [Gump].


Manila folders for art

and open house.


Benchmark, quizzes, tests, homework.

Lunch, recess, book fairs,

Oh, and Jump Rope for Heart.


Boy who draws,

Anxious boy,

boy who has ants in his pants,

oh boy,

there’s a Justin Bieber and a Lady Gaga.

And maybe that kid really has A.D.D.



Mirror, soap, sink, tissues, paper towels.

Tape, scissors, glue, dry erase markers


Carpet, desk, chairs, round table


Minimum days are for

Cupcakes, cookies and



But now, it’s

Time 2:00 go home.

The Ghazal: When?

She said, “let’s go to happy hour today!”

But no! I can’t drink that – it’s sour today.


Oh hello, lovely to hear from you.

Please, do tell me, how’re you today.


There’s a circus show at the boulevard.

Yes, уеs, that city – ours, today.


A marvelous thing came my way. 

He sent, to my home, flowers today.


I can’t believe the nerve of her to ask:

“Have you taken a shower today?”


I wanted to bake Russian pancakes.

To my surprise, I ran out of flour, today.


“Will I see you soon, Polina, my dear?”

If I can go one hundred miles per hour today.

Lazy Zumba

Her legs,

s            l            o            w            l            y


She sways her hands

the wrong way.

She doesn’t know how to move

her shoulders,

her head.

Around her, people

Jump on time

Clap on time

Turn on time.

…She’s in the wrong place…








No One Else Is Dying

Only if

they’re catching

their                                                             breath.

The Day

Today is a new sheet of paper.

Maybe the day is a blank page,

Maybe it’s lined and three-hole punched.


Today could be nothing like yesterday.

But perhaps that morning meeting is page two,

Or your weeklong project is another chapter of your book.


Today you’re off to work.

Your hours are lines on a college ruled paper.

The straight blue lines are your daily routine

Every line is a task you must complete, before moving on to the next page.

When done, you’ll file the sheet away in one of your folders,

Unsure of whether you’ll come back to it or not.


Tomorrow is the weekend.

You get to fill in the white 8 ½ by 11 rectangle any way you choose.

There is no start or end point

Maybe you’ll pick a corner, or begin in the center, if you please.

After it’s complete, you might save your work of art,

But there’s a chance you might toss it and never come across it.

The Perfect Picture

An old classmate of mine once suffered a great loss – her boyfriend passed away. I don’t know the details, I never asked, but I saw how hard it was. And all I can do is speculate that it was unexpected and out of the blue. I don’t want to say much, as these words are perfect, but I remember thinking once that my life was hard and bad, until I realized she had it far worse.


“You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what he’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on”

-David Harkins


center stage

blue jeans, white shirt, black shoes

miniscule microphone

“one, two three – tap”

“one, two, three – turn”

“one, two three – tap”



navy shorts, grey shirt, neon green shoes,

ipod in hand

stomp, stomp stomp

stomp, stomp, stomp



Interstate 5

black jeans, leather jacket, yellow Timberland boots

Harley Davidson

zoom, zoom, zoom,

zoom, zoom, zoom

zoom, zoom, ZOOM


bus stop,

brown khakis, black shirt, who knows what color shoes,

unruly hair

“how was your break?”


no repetition of event required

The Motto

This song makes me want to hop on a Harley Davidson and enjoy my adrenaline rush, with this song pumping in the background.

I’m the fuckin’ man, y’all don’t get it, do ya?
Type of money, everybody acting like they knew ya
Go Uptown, New York City, bitch
Them Spanish girls love me like I’m Aventura
Tell Uncle Luke I’m out in Miami, too
Clubbing hard, fucking women, there ain’t much to do
Wrist bling, got a condo up in Biscayne
Still getting brain from a thang, ain’t shit changed
How you feel how you feel how you feel?
25, sittin on 25 mil
I’m in the building and I’m feeling myself
Rest in peace, Mac Dre, I’mma do it for the Bay

Okay, getting paid, we’ll holler whenever that stop
My team good, we don’t really need a mascot
Tell Tune, “Light one, pass it like a relay”
YMCMB, you niggas more YMCA
Me, Franny, and Mally Mall at the crib-o
Shout goes out to Niko, J and Chubbs, shouts to Gibbo
We got Santa Margherita by the liter
She know even if I’m fucking with her, I don’t really need her
That’s how you feel, man? That’s really how you feel?
Cause the pimpin ice cold, all these bitches wanna chill
I mean maybe she won’t but then again maybe she will
I can almost guarantee she know the deal, real nigga, what’s up?

Now she want a photo, you already know, though
You only live once: that’s the motto, nigga, YOLO
And we bout it every day, every day, every day
Like we sittin on the bench, nigga, we don’t really play
Every day, every day, fuck what anybody say
Can’t see ’em cause the money in the way, real nigga, what’s up?

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
One…time? Fuck one time
I’m calling niggas out like the umpire
Seven…grams in the blunt
Almost drowned in her pussy so I swam to her butt
It’s Eastside, we in this bitch
Wish a nigga would, like a tree in this bitch
And if a leaf fall put some weed in that bitch
That’s my MO, add a B to that shit
I’m fucked up, tore down
I’m twisted: door knob
Talk stupid? Off with your head!
Nigga, money talks, and Mr. Ed
I’m so Young Money got a drum on the gun
Energizer bunny

Funny how honey ain’t sweet like sugar
Ain’t shit sweet? Niggas on the street like hookers
I tongue kiss her other tongue
Skeet skeet skeet: water gun
Oh my God, Becky, look at her butt! Tunechi