~wrt.ng~

wrote about myself once
re-read it years later
a pretentious piece
should've been edited
that girl
somewhere inside me
while i may not like her now
i still love her
"poor thing"

(Copyright © Donna L. Quesinberry-2002)

~she spoke with aquinias, he told her to go home, to wait~

she spoke with Aquinas he told her to go home, to wait

she ate persimmons

midst white noise

bared in

mirrored reality

rousing peaks

details clamored, oscillated

high to low

low to high

equalizers balanced

giant birdseeded ledges

garnered breasts

swollen heart

pacing

midst white noise

(Quesinberry-2002)

~she moved mountains then ranges took control ~

what is it to write ~ dropping consciousness ~ reality in the limelight ~ vessels that deliver hemaglobin's scripts ~ free versettes ~ free versors ~ transcend their own air

<><><><><><>

crossed earth

grabbing dreams

putting them in parcels

to send back home

~~~~~~~~~~~~

opened tabloids

countering ills

packaged them for shelf

images to store forever

~~~~~~~~~~~~

discovered mysteries

escapist visionary renderings

holding auras captive

in every space

saying vacancy filled

(Copyright © Donna L. Quesinberry-2002)

~random writers~

hands play

keys hard

banging

jelly rolls

thighs beat

marmalade rump

tap

beat

di - lay - shun

di - lay - shun

pupils

focused

on vintage

window

staring

fixated

on crinkly skin

saged harlequin

osmosizes

beat

revelations

in silence

slaps knees

palmy,

creak toes

keeps tune

without motion.

di - lay - shun

di - lay - shun

hands playing keys

bang hard

jelly rolls rump

marmalade thighs tap

beats

9 hundred 32 dayed

wisdom gatherer

focused dialationed pupil

at vintage window

stares

fixated without motion

on crinkly skin

16 thousand 262 dayed

saged harlequin

osmosizes

visionary revelations

lessons in silence

slaps knees palmy,

creaks toes

keeps tune.

(Copyright © Donna L. Quesinberry-2002)

~canvassed naval and he said not to pick lint hairs~

City Lights
housing street
hums

portabello crops
poured on checkered cloths

meadows
lands
seaports

he stood.

Naked suited
with angulations.

(Copyright © Donna L. Quesinberry-2001)