I walk up to the mirror, to see myself cry;
There’s plenty of reasons, so don’t ask why.
I can’t even choose which one it really is
I just look at my face, with running tears!!
Disneyland dad bailed years ago, not much to lose
before the child wore his first pair of tennis shoes
ten years later he sweeps in for approval
causing nothing but panic and upheaval
although his ex-wife knows better, she can see
his presence is important to their child, Leroy Lee
She worked three or four jobs simultaneously
To pay for them to live in a walk up on twenty-three
Leroy Lee adores his new found dad who is rich
She keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to be a witch
Disneyland dad has money to show off after all these years
While she had to struggle to never be behind or in arrears.
He is the best, Leroy Lee said, he is a wonderful dad.
Mom keeps her mouth shut, does not out the cad.
Because he is Leroy’s father and Leroy seems to need this.
Disneyland dad swoops in and brings money and bliss.
We wrestle not with flesh and blood, you see,
but against our own thoughts, feelings and emotions that be.
Against hate and wrath, for they destroy the heart,
against lies and deception, for this is where they start.
How these things destroy, the goodness in me and you,
we should wrestle not, with each other, these words I write are true.
With our words, we steal, we kill, and destroy,
walking in this darkness, the heart knows no joy.
If you can see the truth, in these words I write,
turn from this path, and with self only fight.
When we walk up-right, standing on our feet,
the battles will be fierce, but our victories will be sweet.
Turning from this darkness, we begin to grow in the light,
for when we wrestle with each other, we all will lose the fight.
True Blue
Fake smiles. Fake people.
They say that they love me,
But I know it’s not true.
I give and give, but never take—
That’s the end that’s due.
Blue.
These days as I go on,
All I could feel is blue.
We aren’t the same right now,
And I know it’s true.
Sue—if I could sue for the pain you cause me,
I would be rich with envy.
Dizzy as I walk up and down,
Hoping you’ll change your mind
And turn my frown upside down.
But I know you won’t,
Because you think you're never wrong,
And that’s the one I don’t—
The one I don’t see as true blue.
You really have me blue,
But I don’t wanna be.
On those dark quiet nights,
I hear the voices that keep me up,
As I remember that day so long ago.
The promise we kept,
That we would never forget.
I look to the skies,
Searching for our star,
Our star that only belongs to us.
We made a pact, a promise,
On that night to remember,
Those who never returned.
I remember as we held them,
We told them your going home.
We promised we would never leave them.
We would bring them home.
I hear the soft footsteps,
Behind me on the beach,
I turn as my tears fall,
Expecting to see the final six,
But I see our whole company.
We see the star shining brighter,
Than it ever has.
We sit on the beach telling stories,
Of our fallen comrades and,
Those days of yesteryear.
The families walk up, hugging us,
With love and appreciation.
We toast our brothers and sisters,
Families and friends,
As we laugh and cry,
We will always remember,
Them dearly on ,
This day of remembrance.
I am Jenny Donnay
I am caring, genuine thoughtful
I wonder what it would to be walking and have Jesus walk up to me that ask me how I’m doing,
I hear the song of birds singing me a song.
I see Jesus holding His arms out to embrace me
I want both my kids to be happy with their life.
I am Jenny Donnay
I pretend that I am happy and content at church.
I feel as if sometimes I put on my mask.
I touch God in my prayers
I worry about the future of my daughter without a job.
I cry silently in church as to hide my sacrifices
I am Jenny Donnay
I understand I can only control my actions
I say that God is in control of my life
I dream that all adults with special needs are accepted in society.
I try the be the best person I can be everyday
I hope for all people to experience Christs love.
I am Jenny Donnay
Oh, aren’t they adorable, my near-sighted grandma said.
I turned and looked; these moppets looked rather dead.
I kept this to myself, but felt their creepy evil stares
As we turned to walk up our apartment stairs
That night I felt those dolls and puppets calling me
I looked out the window and what did I see?
The ringleader was pointing straight at my heart
I felt they were going to pull me apart
My heartbeat was fast, palpitations quick and hard
Calm down! I yelped to my inner poet and bard.
But I felt threatened, as if evil were coming for me.
I heard maniacal laughter from at least two or three.
In far away desolate valley of the Himalayan hills grand,
I was driving fast on the soggy road around the wetland.
The car got stuck in the sticky mud, I couldn’t take it out,
I was in for awful trouble in the wilderness, I had no doubt.
Luckily, I spotted a dilapidated manor house not very far,
for help before nightfall I could hurriedly walk up there.
Its door I knocked, a pale man took me into a room stale
that greeted me with smoke of the dim lantern to inhale.
His curled lips quivered, he faintly said, ”you’re hungry”,
and disappeared into the dark, closed the door swiftly.
He didn’t return for long, I explored, saw a streak of light
in a room where I found him stone still, sitting upright.
He held caressing a human skeleton, I was horrified to see.
He saw me, said, “this friend is too old, a new one you’ll be”.
Cold sweat rolled down my spine, I shivered to the frozen core,
ran out of the haunted house into wild through the back door.
move on back I say to my gray dendrite jar
It is in the closet, over there, not very far
It wants me to be a country music star
I laugh at the audacity, give a har har har
ambitions? Not really. I don’t want to think.
Since my retirement I’ve been in the pink.
Not wanting to take on monotonous jobs
staying away from Joes, Billies and Bobs.
I have no dreams or goals to fulfill.
Just loving my daily walk up a hill.
Enjoying the weather, mild like this.
Not jumping for snakes, not giving a hiss.
My brain can stay on that closet shelf.
I don’t need it to pen poems about elf.
Imagination must be lodged in my heart.
I do nothing extra, you can’t make me start.
I wanna go home
I wanna stay at the fanciest spots in Islamabad,
go to the mountain tops of Kashmir,
drive in the dusk of the busy roads in Karachi,
drink from the rivers of Hunza valley,
shop in the bustling markets of Multan,
cross the silk road and visit the grape fields of Jalalabad,
walk up and down the green hills of Jhelum,
run through the rice fields of Sindh.
I wanna go home.
What else can I do but prolongingly sleep,
Until I must tend to my own bodily needs.
What else can I do but secretly weep,
Until you show me how your heart bleeds.
What else can I do but feel this love so deep,
As I daydream about you being so sweet.
What else can I do but occasionally creep,
Wishing we could go back in time and meet.
What else can I do but walk up hill so steep,
This hill a metaphor of how we are far apart.
What else can I do but hope we can reap
From seeds I am sowing within your heart.
What else can I do, I rather take the leap.
I rather fall with you, I'll be your parachute.
What else can I do to ensure it's you I keep,
Please just tell me my love has taken root.
Once lost in Himalayan forest I spotted a house bare,
before the nightfall I could hurriedly walk up to there.
I knocked the door, an old man let me in a room stale
that greeted me with smoke of a dim lantern to inhale.
His curled lips quivered, saying faintly, “you need food”,
closed the door swiftly and disappeared into solitude.
As he didn’t return, I looked up, saw a streak of light
in a room where I found him stone still, sitting upright.
He clutched a human skeleton, I was terrified to see.
He said, “this friend is old, a new one you will give me”.
Cold sweat rolled down my spine, shivering in the core,
I ran out of the haunted house through the back door.
Clutched jaw, grinding teeth against pulp,
until ash and blood coat a deadened tongue.
The nightsong quiets—a pulsating silence encapsulates the land
as I walk up to a pyre built of withering dreams and deadly nightshade.
The cold, bitter air brushes against protruding flesh.
Looking toward the skies, faith stripped and shamed,
I climb and take my place among my ancestral spirits.
The silence of the night breaks, with chants of *Burn the witch* filling the void.
Leering eyes and foaming mouths scream obscenities my way.
But even among this fanatic freakshow, I hold on to my dignity.
I do not let them see the fear festering beneath my eyes,
nor does my lip quiver.
With insurmountable strength, I hold my head high
as I watch the torches preparing to set me ablaze.
Closing my eyes one final time, I breathe in everything I have ever held dear.
Memories flood—of loves lost and gained,
of the changing seasons,
of my connection to this glorious earth.
I can feel the flames licking at my feet now.
But I will not scream,
for my resurrection will come soon enough.
My dog is outside warning strangers off our property
the neighbors, delivery men, me if I walk up the driveway
stay away or you will be sorry, says his ferocious bark
it is deep, hoarse and fierce sounding
He treats us all as if we have machetes and stabbing knives
until we get closer….
if we get close enough, he leaps all over us with joy
me, the delivery men, neighbors, burglars, murderers
He is joyful to have a person to play with
If a child comes by, he goes nuts
Follows them home
His bark is totally deceiving
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