Talkin To My Damn Self (In the tune of "Walkin After Midnight" by Patsy Cline)

I'm always talkin, to my damn-self, 

be-cause no one else, ever seems to listen to me. 

So I'm left talkin, to my damn-self, like I am crazy. 


I have good ideas, that no one ever hears, 

cause they're too busy,  always staring at a screen.  So I'm left talkin, to my damn-self, like I am crazy.


I'm often asking myself why, do I even try to get my voice, to be heard. 

Unless I shout and scream, no one hears me,

and when I do, they tell me, I'm mean.


Now I keep talkin, to my damn-self,

Cause there's no one else, who gives a damn about what I say,

 and ill keep talkin, to my damn-self, cause they drove me crazy.


I'm often asking myself why, do I even try, to get my voice, to be heard. 

Unless I Shout And Scream, No One hears me,

And when I Do, they tell me, I'm mean.


So I'm Left Talkin! To my damn-self! Cause there's no one left! who gives a fuck about what I say!

And I'll Keep Talkin, To My Damn-self, Cause I Am Cra-zy!!


Barbara Lynn

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We all feel ignored, invisible and down right crazy at times... or is it just me??

One Day At A Time.

Loving you is like tying my stomach in knots just to connect a few dots

Loving you is like asking the robin that thinks it's a blue bird to remember it's a robin, and it's laid an egg.

You laid an egg!

Or, rather you helped procure one.

You're here now. Remember?

You're back on this plane(t) of rock hard existence

Where you know only shame

How's that working out for you, so far?

You see... Loving you is like picking up each piece of plaster in a disaster and [then] asking it to stop crumbling

Could you please just stop crumbling. FUCK.

I can't take it anymore with the decay.

Put your self back together.

Loving you is like losing a piece of time, in the grand scheme of all things,

and then setting expectations for when this will all come back into frame.

When will this all come back in to focus?

When will this all come back?

Will this all come back?

Loving you has been like the most gut wrenching ride, I've ever felt in my life.

It's like a constant influx of hellos, and a steady stream of goodbyes.

Loving you is like holding onto a stream, where you can see it flow through, passed you,

but there's nothing stealthy enough to hold you.

Besides, why would I?

What would be the point in building a damn to stop your flow?

I mean-- like-- GATDAMN can he flow! The world doesn't even know.

But, I do. I know what you can do, because I've been wrapped up in you,

and I've let every aspect of me cave into all the cavenous pits you've created wthin

...and here we are.

We're back in your pit of shame and despair, and I don't have time.

I can't fucking be here.

I have things to do...

A baby to take care of--

and you...


Loving you is doing everything I can to not be bitter.

Loving you is remembering that all I wanted was for you to live to be the man he needs you to be.

Loving you means knowing I still have to love me.


"Useless Statistics"

by Jeph Johnson

Why do they always think

we want to know

how many pounds and ounces

a newborn baby is, 

yet they never report

the circumference

of the mother's vagina

for reference

so we can compare?

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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I'm drowning into nothing 

I don't know how to make it right

I just wish I had something 

to intervene my life

Because I'm tired of the hardship 

Of the struggle 

of the night

Im hurting from the failure 

and the loss of my light.

I stay strong for the babies 

But my mind is screaming in its plight 

To be more for my family 

And do everything that's right

I feel guilty when I want something just for me

A little ounce of dignity 

But my goals are far from sight

I just want to be more of myself,

of a mom, and of a wife.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just having a conflicted day.  Wanting to be with my babies and accomplish other goals.

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Not My King

He is a creation of my making. 

I carried him protected him within my person until the day of his birth. 

Once here all my childish wants and affairs stopped. 

I can't go out tonight my son comes first. 

Can't sleep all day my son comes first.

If all I had to do was watch him explore the world all day I would be at peace.

He knows how to push the limits, but he doesn't know any better yet so I guide him. 

I couldn't imagine anything being more important. 

Nothing comes before him.

Not a friend or family member no matter how close.

This is now my responsibility to cherish, teach, and defend. 

Anything that would draw away my attention, or ability to provide for him must be cut off. 

I could never write him a rain check. 

I would tear down any wall separating me from him.

Our distance causes me distress. 

Not to discredit anyone else but as for me he is priority number 1. 

It's ok to have a life and fun outside of being his parent but I realize that is only temporary. I could never part with him for any reason.  

Anyone who would have me try isn't worthy of his presence. 

I barter and compromise with no one on his safety or care. 

By this same token I will train my child up on the way that he should go. 

With patience, discipline, and love. 

A model citizen after my grandfather and father. 

Pouring into him the information on how to avoid the mistakes of my past, whilst knowing he must make his own future.

I can't hold his hand forever, and some days I may have to simply witness as he falls. 

It is my job to nurture and build his ability to love.

All the while making sure he has plenty examples of real love.

I am his mother, not his queen. 

He is my prince, not my king. 

One day he will have a woman and family who needs his full attention.

When I am sure he is secure in his decision to work is done. 

I will always love him and guide him when asked, but she will be his new number one.

She will care for him, inform him, and be his help mate for this new stage of life. 

And I will enjoy the fruits of their love from my new position in life. 

He will always be my baby boy, but he is destined for more than my watchful eye. 

My prayers will cover him when he is out of my sight, and likewise when he reunites with his rib. 

Gift of Life



Smoothing caresses of the night air embrace our tender -Cures-,
With -Cares- of a thought forthwith to relieve our minds with -Ease-,
Simply not to -Tease- the sense with unpleasant -Lies-,
Falling back on an acquiesce of mitigated -Ties-,
As does moonlight soar gently atop a raging water -Fall-,
After -All-,


Thusly committing to undisturbed seductions amidst abiding -Memories-,
Ensures a bond most faithfully held between two -Treasuries-,
A pleasing promise to an individual’s mirror of the -Mind-,
To cometh along ones truly acquainted -Bind-,
Presenting light to a world most devoid of -Unity-,
Is an result of soul and mind in a body encompassing -Purity-,
Of one’s own flesh and -Bone-,
Man brings to being a gift only he may -Own-,


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Christmas Dinner

The lines of your arm,

like the lines of a woman,

pinpricked and allergic. 

A parasite,

snacking on the disc that rides on the backs of elephants she saw marching in a line

like the girls she watched from the window. 

A family quilt,

stretched and pinned.

Splintering like the doll I used to start your heart. 

He stuffed a ghoul inside your mothers crock pot;

the one with the peppers painted on the side. 

Laymen, swaddled in sea foam green

and their breath smells like toothpaste .

Rubbing molten latex on your sacred cyst 

filled with baby pink puss. 

Contort into a butterfly

only to crinkle paper.

Doused in scented oils I used to clean your grandmothers hair.

A raspberry rascal pulls at the corners of your mouth;

forging a depression to match the one between your legs,

to match the one on yellow carpet. 

Turning you into a banshee

sweet with the salt that your mother lounged in.

Berry coloured streaks run along the sides of you like they ran across the hospital bed.

It's left you topheavy

and bathing on a roof,

back turned to King David. 

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My Child Inside

8 months and 28 days,
I toss and I turn tonight
blankets on, blankets off,
the streetlamps outside are too bright

I moan, I whimper
I need to get some sleep
I feel so uncomfortable
my sweat is soaking the sheets

He is getting so big,
I'm swollen round and firm
any day now he is due to come
He's excited so he squirms

But mommy is trying to sleep
mommy needs her rest
he sure is having fun in there
but hes being quite the pest

I rub my womb to calm him
I whisper into the night:
"Shh shh sweetheart"
my stomach is stretched so tight

I can feel his little heart pumping
I can feel his feet
he is almost done growing inside me
and I cannot wait till we meet

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My Rising Sons

This is of the love I share
With my sons I hold so dear
They are my life, my very world
They are the beings that are adored
They came into my life against my will
But I love them all my heart even still
I would not give them for the universe
They are my blessing, not a curse
Every day I hold them and play
How I care for them I cannot say
Through the smiles and the tears
Through their triumphs and their fears
I will be there with comfort and love
Whether or not they push and shove
When they play and when they fight
I will be there to help with all my might
No matter what happens to me in life
I will watch them grow and live with strife
Death will never come for me
Until they are strong enough to see
The love I feel for them is strong
Even beyond death, my heart is where they belong
They shine bright through my darkest hour
They are like the rising sun, sorrows they devour
They burn up the pain, they burn and bring joys
Perfect little beings, my precious baby boys

Author's Notes/Comments: 

About y 2 wonderful sons

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