***Poetry... is a beautiful thing!***
Important Note: The poetry written by Sarah Pooler and/or her friends may not be used without her permision. If for some reason you like what you see, and want to use it... please e-mail Sarah at sari_poo@yahoo.com.... I am sure something would be worked out. Thanks so much!
Paint Brush
I keep my paint brush with me
Where ever I may go,
In case I need to cover up
So the real me dosen't show.
I'm so afraid to show you me,
Afraid of what you'll do- that
You might laugh or say mean things.
I'm afraid I might lose you.
I'd like to remove all my paint coats
To show you the real, true me,
But I want you to try and understand,
I need you to accept what you see.
So if you'll be paitent and close your eyes,
I'll strip of all my coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.
Now my coats are all stripped off.
I feel naked, bare and cold,
And if you still love me with all that you see,
You are my friend, pure as gold.
I need to save my paint brush, though,
And hold it in my hand,
I want to keep it handy,
In case somebody dosen't understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true,
But please let me keep my paint brush with me
Untill I love me, too.
-Bettie B. youngs-
to touch the unquenchable fire within that yearns for its equal, the unsatiable thirst that can only come from her lips, releave me of this torment, i beg of you, find me my love, find me, or life will only be an infernal of everlasting pain. -marley
A balance
Its safe to hide in the shadows of eachother,
in the presents of time.
taking drastic measures of thought,
to touch eachother.
Its a tender shelter holding bad out.
And allowing good into your life.
Its so tender and delicate, and so strong.
A balance of words, unity.
Something so soft spoken, it taints your heart
with knowing, and feeling how it feels.
It erases all the questions in mind.
It holds you with but a look.
And you lay your head down in soft, white peace.
You are subdued with content things.
It brings a smile on your face.
And your souls are free together.
-Sarah Pooler-
written 5/24/99 for Jesse
Droplets of blood, running down my face,
A tear falls to the floor- and so do I.
A sob- sobbing
Endless sobbing
A yell- a scream...
I wont be redeamed!
The floor is red with blood,
your face pale as porcelin,
Eyes wide open, staring at the wall.
-sarah pooler july 8, 1997-
Purple Proze
Tweedle Dee tweedle dumb oh my gosh i've rammed... my thumb... into a electrical circuit that is. Purple is the tree... purple is me.... NO ITS NOT, ITS SARAH HAHAHAHA.... say hi to LA and get a good nights sleep.
-susi rankis summer 1999 for me-
Imaged
the hail of my contorted emotion is banging down on this
and the uncertainty of where life holds me shines down from the moon
wash me away into an open sea of dreams,
so i can lose me forever, in happiness.
a green shade whispers through my mind
the hollows of my love for you
the purity of my now crying tears
its falling all around me.
i lay my head down and silently weap for you
only to again raise my chin up in a required strength
i took hold as gently as fate let me
and now im letting go as gently as you broke my heart
my sorrow is true in me for never being allowed
to see the true in you agian
as i am left here holding now made hollow memories made by you
with this green image whispering through my thoughts,
Hail, Hail, Hail
i will, however long time really is... or how far away my sea carries me
Remember you.
-sarah pooler 9/14/98 for dave-
Condescending arrangements of toiled feelings peirce my patience of fate
misfortune overrides generosity and greatfulness...
as I plummet to the death of something long sience dying.
As I lose the sight of letting go of something holding fast to my consciouness
and slowly slip into myself, and proceed with a falling out of directions.
Intentions too.
Backdrops pf purple fall upon my eyelids...
a brush of night-light dances in the air...
and it whispers in my ear.
I am lost to myself,
a place of sweet solace and amber.
And complete dispare.
Holding on to something unknown to the chambers hidden away in me
I pace the halls of love and love and loss.
And reddened tears fall to the floor below me.
and the air which I breath is empty,
of all elements of every day conceptions.
As I simply lay my heart and my head into my hands,
that do nothing for me.
And my soul aches.
-Sarah Pooler 5/10/99-