A bosom friend, an old woman and spinster,
Is a god-mother of auntie and uncle;
Chosen as their god-parent two years ago,
On their wedding at church in San Francisco,
A famous nuptial…I do hope you all know.
They’ve also chosen her as their counsellor,
At times when they’ve problems or be in trouble;
One day comes a storm in life of this couple,
Started from petty argument to quarrel,
Fumed up to prepare each flag for their battle.
She went there right away to extend her help,
Suddenly, I’ve heard a shrill voice like pup’s yelp;
Aunt’s bosom friend gave an advice boastfully,
Saying, “See, I’m happy! Stay single like me!”
WTFWT?! I shouted angrily!
(WTFWT- can also stands for What’s This Foolish Woman Teaches/Taught)
TO STAY or TO RUN
The woman lay bloodied on the floor,
Her false friend about to give her one
more.
Should she remain or get up and run?
She contemplated, as the morning sun
doth through rooster curtains peek.
Ah, foolish woman, did not understand,
He was lining up others, to make of her
nothing but pulp!
A very merry band who relished ruining
others.
Of course, this story is pure fancy in
the real world.
But we find cruel soul criminals like this
online.
Out to humiliate anyone who rises.
To belittle, besmirch, ignore, threaten
or to cyber-bully.
And he or she hooks them into his small
and pitiful online hate nation.
The woman she is well; she rises
with great dignity.
Knowing the wave of hatred against
her is in high gear,
Works courageously, typing poetry,
at times, on her keyboard is a tear.
Only the cackling of her destructors,
rings in her ears.
She is limping badly, so painful to see.
But this woman has overcome much
unseen adversity.
She came here not to win prizes but
To share her heart by poetry!
That, woman, I must confess, is me.
Panagiota Romios
3/22/2018
Angie’s blind eyes wander aimlessly in their sockets,
one white as the belly of a snake, the other a pointless blue.
She has one dress she wears every day, and a cane that is
without tip and has lost most of its red paint.
In the building she has memorized even the pale illusions
well enough to scoot about without hesitation.
She likes no one.
She likes me.
Thinks she is JFK, talks of herself quite lucidly and with
deadly accurateness.
Found herself a spirit-lover, asked me to perform a
marriage ceremony for them. It’s a sad
life with no one in it, although that does not apply to me,
who loves my self-imposed isolationism beyond reason.
I find a pretty stone broach, a stuffed teddy bear holding a
red satin heart that says, “I love you…” and a doll with
ribbons in its hair - these were her dowry.
I say the words over my open Bible, inviting blasphemy
to call out my name.
Now, she has become a Velcro-shadow.
When I am ill her zeal to cure me is fanaticism incarnate.
Foolish woman, I - who chose her own path to trod,
but along the way tripped over a crippled bird that is sure
to peck her to death.
A wise woman
Sells her brains,
A foolish woman
Sells her sex,
Real women sell both.
A car, it’s not the make,
It’s what you make it.
You can ride it
On your own,
Or with friends and parents.
When abused
Beyond repair,
You dispose of it.
THE WANDERING WOMAN
“Go tell the Spartans, Passersby--
A foolish woman does here lie.
She tired of each familiar face--
Thus died mid strangers in this place.”
i dont want you anywhere near my apple tree.
now soar.. high above
but before you reside here
know that i died near this apple tree
i bit into the fantasy of life
a foolish woman i was, making no riqhts
so the pain left only to return again
thunder busted my eardrums
yet I cried silently
in spite of me
you've returned, to spite your father's sin
daughter leave this place
a
p
p
l
e
s
to be continued.
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