Posted by: Miss McBooty | April 28, 2011

My Lips Break the Waves

Poseidon has three beds.
One for mistress and one for sea.
The third he holds for me.

“Relax little one,” he booms,
“And forget all you’ve learned.
Happiness is beneath the waves I churn.”

“But Sir,” I respond.
“If you give me fins,
I’ll simply desire wings.”

Posted by: Miss McBooty | February 22, 2011

For Nic

This poem was written for me many years ago. This person is still a close and dear friend and was kind enough to share his poem with me.


I’ve missed you
The dare always met
You led me to new places and defined my boldest lines
History can be pleasant even if it wasn’t always at the time
It hardly seems strange your eyes still move me
Importance is a measure of arms length and souls connectivity
I’ve found all I’ve ever looked for
Your footsteps all prints on paths well traveled
I would trade your hands for nothing
You have moved my pen more than once
I still have much ink to give.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | February 4, 2011

Kings, Queens and False Dreams

The king with his crown
shrugs on his throne
made from golden bricks and silky threads.
It sways high amongst the clouds.
Back and forth, he promises robes of velvet
to anyone who will praise him.
He tells tall tales of travels unimaginable.
Tales of forbidden grandeur and adventure
yet he chooses to travel alone.
In this odd kingdom, is a beautiful maiden
who is covered in dirt and rags.
So long ago now, the king promised her the world.
He promised her travels, he promised her trust,
he promised her unending love.
Today she waits, still dreaming.
Now fat and happy,
the king drinks his sweet wine.
Drinking his drink
and forgetting the forgotten.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | November 18, 2010

Pictures From Long Ago

She looks at pictures from long ago;
wisdom apparent on her brow.

She touches her lips as she smiles;
remembering his kisses in the rain.

She closes her eyes and dreams;
dancing along side her memories.

She breathes clearly now.
There’s no where else she’d rather be.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | September 9, 2010


Descending into this faded view,
I’m not sure where I’m going, or where I’ve been for that matter.
We’re never quite sure where we end up.
For some there’s comfort that lies in that fact.
For others, like myself,
it leaves an uneasy feeling in the back of our throats.
Tossing and turning, the sheets scrap every inch of my skin in the darkness.
Rough like sandpaper, this cotton weave transcends reality.
A dim light beams brightly onto the back of my cornea like a laser beam.
The street light flickers,
on and off in a redundant act that becomes so familiar, it feels like a piece of home.
Sinking deeper now, turning away from the light.
Now home drifts farther away than ever before,
Not even a secret can survive here.
Alone at last.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | September 8, 2010


You hold me close and refuse to let me go,
I run my fingers through your graying hair.

My heavy head fits perfectly in the crook of your neck,
and you whisper softly in my ear.

I forget why I was upset, I forget what I had lost,
I lose all control.

Limp in your arms I know,
All I need is you.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | August 24, 2010

When Circles Dream

When circles dream,
Do they dream of the stars
Shining their bright faces in the sky?
Or do they dream of dragons
Breathing fire onto brave knights?
Do circles have nightmares
About their infinite being?
Do they dream about ghosts and ghouls
Who drift in and out of our world?
Do they drift off into deep space
And wonder about adventures outside of their own?
When circles dream,
Do they dream of you and me
Shading ourselves under the willow tree?

Posted by: Miss McBooty | July 20, 2010

Ghost of Her

Stand up and feel the cold of the floor
Look at the frost on the window pane
Touch the pillow where she laid her head
Caress the blankets that laid at her feet
Walk down the stairs to the kitchen
where you cooked her breakfast on Sunday
Remember how you never believed in love
until the day you saw her face
How the light of the day never
seemed to fade from her golden tresses
Whisper her name, the name that completes you
Realize, that everything has changed
Yesterday she was in this house
happy and warm in your arms
Today she is gone, and all that remains is
the ghost of her yesterday.

Posted by: Miss McBooty | July 15, 2010

The Cookie Jar

“Keep away from that!” Warns Grandma
as she shakes her wooden spoon from afar.
I timidly obey and wonder about
the mysterious magical cookie jar.
When I was little I had hoped for cookies and 
lifted its lid when she turned away.
POOF!  I immediately turned into a chicken 
and continued to lay brown eggs for a day.
Since then she’s shared stories of fantastic powers —
enchantment completely unpredictable.
Nevertheless I remain determined to discover
the secrets within Grandma’s magical cookie jar.
Posted by: Miss McBooty | July 14, 2010

Whispers in the Wind

Happy Dark Poetry Wednesday!

She collapses in bewilderment on the grassy hillside.
Gently calling out his name,
she tries to remember the feel of their last embrace
but can only taste blood on her lips.
His gaze meets hers only for a moment
before he turns his back and disappears into the mist;
Their love fades into a spurned memory
as she manages, “I will see your blood on my hands.”
Her soft whisper withdrawn with the wind.

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