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No Film at Eleven          8/4/11           ©2011 by Heidi Parsons

I don’t wanna go
To another film alone
An’ I’m tir’d of comin’ home
Jus’ta chew a doggie bone

To the cold corner banished
When humanity vanished
Don’t mind me, I’ll just lie here
A-lickin’ my wounds

Where’s the life I once had
Where’s the comp’ny I kept
All that faded to black
And there ain’t nothin’ left

Sitting here in a room
In a flat in the ‘burbs
I might as well be in
The Mojave Desert

Image

http://images.wikia.com/rango/images/b/ba/0Mojave-Desert.jpg

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I also write poetry

I also write poetry from time to time; here’s a recent example:

EVE    ©2012 by Heidi Parsons    

She danced from blue to indigo
then twirled her violet skirt before
she tangoed into aubergine
and spiraled into ebony
her laughter sparkled, sprayed
across the space in finest droplets
until the echoes ebbed
and all was still

what then could I do
but stagger back and stand in awe
at her dark beauty
drawing me into its depths

my jukebox mouth is out of songs
my razor tongue has lost its edge
my mind a canvas waiting for
a brush’s tinted touch
and yet there is no sorrow
as I watch my words take flight
a warm air updraft
carries me to morn

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