Hot and cold
The air can't decide
Whether
To be
Breathable or
Suffocating
As here I sit
Smothered
In
H20.
~Shana C. Sloan
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Snazzy
Ella Fitzgerald's
Jazz
Floating in
From the living room
Makes
Surviving in this
Blues
Room
Much more
Tolerable.
~Shana C. Sloan
Jazz
Floating in
From the living room
Makes
Surviving in this
Blues
Room
Much more
Tolerable.
~Shana C. Sloan
Monday, April 12, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
I Remember
A little boy
Arms out like wings
On his daddy's shoulders
In the Target parking lot
Say hello, Dad says
HELLO, the little boy shouts and smiles
Oh to trust
And fly
Like that
Again.
~Shana C. Sloan
Arms out like wings
On his daddy's shoulders
In the Target parking lot
Say hello, Dad says
HELLO, the little boy shouts and smiles
Oh to trust
And fly
Like that
Again.
~Shana C. Sloan
Friday, January 29, 2010
Over Time
Hair blonde
In the 60's sun
My pig-tails of stubby candy canes
Made my head look happy.
Hair brown
Middle school perms good and bad
Settled in for a spell
While braces came and went.
Hair brownish-gray
Silver wires
Sprout easily these days
I tame them with a bottle.
~Shana C. Sloan
In the 60's sun
My pig-tails of stubby candy canes
Made my head look happy.
Hair brown
Middle school perms good and bad
Settled in for a spell
While braces came and went.
Hair brownish-gray
Silver wires
Sprout easily these days
I tame them with a bottle.
~Shana C. Sloan
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Mess
Concentration is
Difficult today
Mind filled with
Squares and circles
That do not fit
Maybe if I
Pull my thoughts out
One at a time
They will
Untangle
The Spaghetti
that is currently
My brain.
~Shana C. Sloan
Difficult today
Mind filled with
Squares and circles
That do not fit
Maybe if I
Pull my thoughts out
One at a time
They will
Untangle
The Spaghetti
that is currently
My brain.
~Shana C. Sloan
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Joshua
My hand
Will always be here
If you ever need to
Grab it
So freely you love
And enjoy your world
Every bug and bird a new friend
Each grain of sand a story untold
You ride the
Carousel of your day
Smiling and carefree
Until you look around
And fear
Just for a moment
That I am gone
Forward you race
Mama!
Soon I see tiny fingers
Reaching
Out of the corner of my eye
Grab it!
It will always be here
My hand.
~Shana C. Sloan
Will always be here
If you ever need to
Grab it
So freely you love
And enjoy your world
Every bug and bird a new friend
Each grain of sand a story untold
You ride the
Carousel of your day
Smiling and carefree
Until you look around
And fear
Just for a moment
That I am gone
Forward you race
Mama!
Soon I see tiny fingers
Reaching
Out of the corner of my eye
Grab it!
It will always be here
My hand.
~Shana C. Sloan
I Wonder
I wonder how many
Crumpled up papers
Writers have flung into
Wastebaskets
How many pencils
Snapped in anger
How many
MacBeths
'Night Mothers and
Hamlets
Have been left to
Fill up the holes
Left by frustrated poets
As they marched through
Unkept backyards
Searching for
Just the right
Words.
~Shana C. Sloan
Crumpled up papers
Writers have flung into
Wastebaskets
How many pencils
Snapped in anger
How many
MacBeths
'Night Mothers and
Hamlets
Have been left to
Fill up the holes
Left by frustrated poets
As they marched through
Unkept backyards
Searching for
Just the right
Words.
~Shana C. Sloan
A Goodbye
My last night here
In my friend's apartment.
My last night here
In my apartment.
All the brick
All the high ceilings
All the memories
Gone
Locked behind the door
To which I no longer
Hold a key
Hidden under a stranger's
Posters
His/her taste unknown.
~Shana C. Sloan
In my friend's apartment.
My last night here
In my apartment.
All the brick
All the high ceilings
All the memories
Gone
Locked behind the door
To which I no longer
Hold a key
Hidden under a stranger's
Posters
His/her taste unknown.
~Shana C. Sloan
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
To Write
To write is to
Dream the insides of your brain
Tangibly
To escape reality
And become
Your soul
To feed the world
With your best-rooted
Secrets.
To write is to
Sandwich
your fantasies with flavor
To command order
To your thoughts
To settle for nothing
But the honest truth
Even if it's a lie.
To write is to become
Complete.
~Shana C. Sloan
Dream the insides of your brain
Tangibly
To escape reality
And become
Your soul
To feed the world
With your best-rooted
Secrets.
To write is to
Sandwich
your fantasies with flavor
To command order
To your thoughts
To settle for nothing
But the honest truth
Even if it's a lie.
To write is to become
Complete.
~Shana C. Sloan
Monday, December 7, 2009
Refresh
Tears fall--
They needed to
But the dam
Is still
Very full.
Tread lightly
Or don't.
Just know
Ahead of time
What you're
Getting
Into.
~Shana C. Sloan
They needed to
But the dam
Is still
Very full.
Tread lightly
Or don't.
Just know
Ahead of time
What you're
Getting
Into.
~Shana C. Sloan
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Gold
Old friends:
Faces comfortable
Voices Known
Always.
Peripheral vision
Serves me well
As I view
Where
Much of
My life
Began.
My heart
Smiles.
~Shana C. Sloan
Faces comfortable
Voices Known
Always.
Peripheral vision
Serves me well
As I view
Where
Much of
My life
Began.
My heart
Smiles.
~Shana C. Sloan
Friday, December 4, 2009
Well Deserved
Did you buy cigarettes
The man with the mediocre mustache demanded gruffly
No...his depleted wife replied hesitantly
We'll have to get a carton at Costco then
The man curtly responded
Then he turned and walked away from her
Confident
and
Satisfied
with a Snuggle dryer sheet
Stuck
to the heel of his
Cowboy Boot.
~Shana C. Sloan
The man with the mediocre mustache demanded gruffly
No...his depleted wife replied hesitantly
We'll have to get a carton at Costco then
The man curtly responded
Then he turned and walked away from her
Confident
and
Satisfied
with a Snuggle dryer sheet
Stuck
to the heel of his
Cowboy Boot.
~Shana C. Sloan
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Heavy
A mis-fit of
sorts
I see the patches
and the dirt
A floppy hat
is dead weight
on her head
Pushing on through the night
preferring to ignore
the lights and sounds
of the city
Distracted momentarily
by a stray
she reaches out to touch it
I see the patches
and the dirt
and the love that
is dead weight
on her heart.
~Shana C. Sloan
sorts
I see the patches
and the dirt
A floppy hat
is dead weight
on her head
Pushing on through the night
preferring to ignore
the lights and sounds
of the city
Distracted momentarily
by a stray
she reaches out to touch it
I see the patches
and the dirt
and the love that
is dead weight
on her heart.
~Shana C. Sloan
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Scattered
Lost in the
chaos
and
buried in the
foothills
of Lifestuff.
Soul aches
to crawl out
to live!
to grant wishes!
to
SHINE!
~Shana C. Sloan
chaos
and
buried in the
foothills
of Lifestuff.
Soul aches
to crawl out
to live!
to grant wishes!
to
SHINE!
~Shana C. Sloan
Meeting Granny
His hand on her hand
A tribute to life
Though neither one knew
The significance
Of the touch
She needed him
That day
And he needed her
Everyday
Just to be.
Wrinkles and young
Skin
Toothless grins
All around
The gap of five generations
Closed
That day
His hand in her hand
A tribute to
Life!
~Shana C. Sloan
A tribute to life
Though neither one knew
The significance
Of the touch
She needed him
That day
And he needed her
Everyday
Just to be.
Wrinkles and young
Skin
Toothless grins
All around
The gap of five generations
Closed
That day
His hand in her hand
A tribute to
Life!
~Shana C. Sloan
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