Miss Sarah Elizabeth's blog

I am playing a game
that you made for me.
It is long and strenuous,
but there is a prize I see.

This game is of waiting,
and for you this I will do.
Long days, weeks and months -
I will see this game through.

I knew what I was doing
when I said I'd stand by for you.
As much as I want to see you now,
to both our hearts I stay true.

So hurry home to me soldier,
while I pray to the good lord above
for you to come back into my arms.
I send you all of my love.

Close my eyes
and
let the fantasies
consume me.
Spread my dream ridden wings
and sore
into the open arms of
the skies above.
Rest my head
on the soft chest
of the clouds.
Kiss the wind
and make love
with the rain.

Don't cry leather neck,
for I can feel your pain.
I am in the field of battle
surrounded by the weak, the insane.

Don't look away leather neck,
for there is not an escape.
The horror is embedded in us.
Keep an eye on your nape.

Don't let go leather neck,
keep your rifle held tight.
Ghosts lurk beyond every corner,
always be prepared to fight.

Don't stop now leather neck,
your digi's help you blend.
Red and gold cords round your neck,
it's oohrah! until the end.

Keep fighting leather neck,
Eagle, Globe, and Anchor pin on your chest.
Semper fi, America! Read more »

Give me my freedom
and let me live!
You are strangling me,
I have so much to give.

But you won't let me go.
You show no remorse
and you won't quit
on this hell ridden course.

I stand up tall.
I will not back down!
Your words are hitting brick,
I smile at your frown.

I'm leaving you now.
I scoff at your sneer.
There will be no more hurt,
I have shed my last tear.

To love and to hate.
The words caress each other,
intertwining in connection.
A bond as one.
Vibrations shake them
until they collapse
in a heap of contradictions.
The "it's complicated"
rising from the crash.
It's climax
is the deciphering of
where the line divides.
How do we choose?
Does hate or love envelop us
or
do we pick what position
we want to take?
It is an erotic journey
and wherever our heart takes us,
the pulse
will beat faster,
taking us higher and higher
until someone or something
shatters.
shutters.
releases.

Work is my freedom
home is my cage
dream away the holiday
write down all my rage
yesterdays fears still haunt me
tomorrow's world unknown
I will fall down again
my fog horn loudly blown
this haze will not stop me
I will regret no longer
take everything in stride
this has only made me stronger

Bittersweet wind, crisp
stinging my face
numb to the watery tears
freezing on my rosy cheek.
A step on cracked ice
with a pother of snow
around my bodice.
I could stand and fall
or run to see if I
make it to the other side.
The clouting claws at
my ears,
it's macabre groaning
pitting my nerves.
What do you do
when you know running
delays the fall,
and no matter what you do,
there is no escape from
the eventual plunge into
the freezing slumber of solitude.

Her hair swirls around her face as she looks across the street to the mountain rising above. To her left and right are two guys, not quite men but definitely not boys, speaking amongst themselves about which route to take. A loud honking catches her attention, and she turns her head to see a light blue Chevy truck roaring on by. Once passed, she runs across the street in her never before worn sneakers and purple bag at her side, the rap of boots on concrete following closely behind her. Read more »

A rustle of leaves; red, orange, and yellow.
Backdrop rising to the cloud filled skies,
a vast mountain overlooking the white slumber of peace.

Go inside.
Strong young hands rest on pews
as camouflage dots the room.
Some cadets in realms of dreams, in fits of laughter, or heads bowed in prayer.

Sanctuary.
A wall of sacred books rests in back.
Some bindings new while others contain a wonderful
old book smell.

Listen.
Music reverberates in the room.
The piano keys pressed for anyone willing to open their ears. Read more »

Haze fills my mind as the repetitive sounds fill my ears. I roll over thinking it’s one of those dreams when you know you are dreaming, and I snuggle into my bear and blankets. The noise continues, sounding slightly quiet at times and increasing in volume slowly. “Dave, dave, dave, Dave, DAVE, DAVE, DAVE!” I ease myself away from my sheets, bundled up in Middlebury sweats and an overly large sweatshirt. It’s freezing, and when my feet touch the carpet, I automatically begin a blind search for my fuzzy slippers. Read more »

Knock, knock, Knocking
on the wooden floor
crying out a name
over and over and over again,
not stopping until someone runs into the living room.
She sits in the chair flailing her arms
and small legs that stop at her knees.
"Get my Mom, mommamomom, getgetgegettt
mommamomomom."
She is delirious,
not seeing someone standing there speechless and running
to the house attached so she can get the woman's mother.
Her mother power-walks in,
maple syrup in hand and starts to hold the woman's head,
pouring the sugary thick substance down her throat until
she finally comes to. Read more »

One touch, so soft and eloquent,
one caress of brazen heat
simple lines mark the sensitive flat
blood courses through with every heart beat
tingling sensations linger once brushed
warmth stays and serves true
eyes look into eyes with something to feel
and she knows that she's in love with you
linked together as one, pure and whole
a pulse in sync, rings like a band
palm to palm your life is shared with her
while she kisses the top of your hand

What morals have I?
What values do I keep?
Betrayal of ourselves and mind-
can I be healed while I weep?
I look into the horizon
and I see nothing but fear.
I try to keep my head above water,
a die hard fight for every tear.
Someone is there,
holding there arms up high.
They are there to catch me,
will they be there until I die?
I wish to love this person
with every piece of my heart.
To give trust and respect is important;
the fundamentals of a new start.
How do I prove to him
that my morals and values are true?
I love him with all I have,
even though it's something new. Read more »

She is from Baby’s Breath in her hair,
pearls on her ears and neck.
She’s from the pink dress with poofy sleeves,
and the pink rose corsage pinned to her chest,
from the car behind her, with the boy awaiting
to bring her to her junior prom.
She is from her bright smile,
enjoying the fact that her parents are allowing
her to go with the boy with whom she would
spend fifteen years of her life with.

She is from blue spotted wallpaper,
From the dining table she sits at with
her best friend and young godson.
She’s from curly red hair,
dangling from her friends head,
which is nestled gently against her own.
She is from the little boy sitting in her friend’s lap,
wiping the tired from his eyes,
wearing nothing but a white t-shirt.
From empty cigarette boxes littering the table,
from hoping her friend will stop smoking,
unlike her grandmother who died of lung cancer.

She is from the old apartment kitchen,
her tea-rose collection scattered behind her Read more »

Johanna Rossman stared at her reflection, a solemn expression on her face. So what if she was beautiful? She pushed her black, shiny curls behind her shoulders and sighed. Why is it that society felt that every beautiful young woman needed to be married off early? Okay, she's a debutante, is she just supposed to grin and bear it? She turned her head only slightly, so the light could catch her high cheekbones and long neck. Yes, she was beautiful. But it didn’t matter to her now. She slowly began to undo her corset, her body finally feeling at ease as the strings loosened. Read more »

Oh my dearest copper penny,
That is attained on the ground,
The numbers of you I have are many,
of something that is so small and round.

Your rusted appearance is no fault,
Nor your unique smell a burden.
Collected in jars, you are an exalt,
Luck in you? This I am certain.

On sidewalks, trains, and the bus,
A glint of a cent can be seen.
Adding to my sum is a plus,
The savings of which I am keen.

Ben Franklin’s candy you help me buy,
Abe’s face can be seen a plenty.
To always keep you, this I will try,
Oh my dearest copper penny.

A feeling of such relief has overwhelmed me. I can’t believe how one little word has taken my worst fear away, and a weight I didn’t know was there has been lifted. “Hi.” It was this word, not my name that caught my attention. I turn at the sound of that voice, hoping to God it’s real. There he was, not daring to look me in the eye. He was scurrying amongst the swarm of students all rushing to class on the stairs. His hair gelled up in spikes as usual and his side bag strapped to him like always. All seemed right, and he was there in my vision, in the flesh and blood, breathing with every sign of life I could hope for.
Was it only this morning that I had addressed two authority figures with fear for him and his family? Was it only this morning that I handed over the only piece of material evidence that I thought would be the last I had ever heard from him, his last words in the world? Read more »

Soft and white, she silently lays there,
her crooked corners and all.
So many memories we share;
she’s been there every time I fall.

Each small square holds a tear
on her large and flat home.
A heartbreak collected every year;
here my cheek rested, as thoughts did roam.

Wrapped around me, she kept me warm
in every single silent and cold night.
She’s there in every thunder booming storm,
her soft substance a pillow when dreams took flight.

A small hole resides in her beautiful essence,
her imperfectness I would never alter.
Though this does not effect her presence,
for I love her and I would never falter.

My blankie, she is mine forever,
she was mine since I was four.
Give her away? I would never!
She is something I absolutely adore.

A little hand reaches for mine
That simple gesture, one movement of the hand
So much meaning.

The left over smell of dried water paint
Lingers in the air as the small child
Walks away

The flip of every page
Determines a new dream for
The watchful eyes of the young.

Small tears run down his face
Creating small streaks on the soft cheeks
of a Luke warm frown

Deep and tiring music erupts from the walls
Signaling every pair of grumpy eyes
To take a nap.

Its not until then, that I realize why
I’m there reading and playing
Games of house and puzzles.

The innocence in every little smile
And smooth face as their
Dreams take them far away.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Only until the tug of my fingers do I open them
And look down as a little hand
Reaches for mine again.
A Luke warm smile coming across my face.

Walking down that long, marble hallway
each little footstep echoing on the
sterile white walls.

The smell of fresh ink dots the air,
each dreary eyed secretary staring
blankly out their clear plastic windows,
occasionally wiping the old
stains off their glasses.

Beside me are three older women,
each dressed in blackish fancy clothes
in a lousy attempt to impress the judge
in one case,
or for the other two, hide the
few rolls residing on their stomachs.

As I look ahead of me,
I spy it.
My personal liberty bell, sitting there
in all of its sweet copper covered glory.
Black ropes cut if off from the rest of
the continuously moving world.

Someone comes, and unlatches one single
black velvet rope, allowing me room
to squeeze inside.
My small hands reach towards the bell,
gripping the icy chains.

I start to ring that bell.
I ring it with all of my might, signaling
that I finally belong to someone.
The sounds vibrate through Read more »

A mother sees a daughter nearing womanhood.
What shall she tell that daughter?
“Walk confident; know what is around you.”
And this might help her feel safe
When she is alone in Washington D.C.,
Scurrying for an appointment on
The worlds busiest atmosphere Capital Hill.
Tell her to learn from her mistakes
So the same habits won’t happen in College
And she won’t procrastinate
with homework and laundry.
Tell her to think of consequence before action
And know what risks are being taken,
So she may not regret
sneaking around that one day.
Tell her to watch her money
and handle it cautiously
and that if she’s not careful,
her credit may be as bad as other’s in her life.
Tell her that everyone is unique
and they are people like everyone.
So instead of picking on the
Different races
And religions
And GLBTQ’s
She sticks up for them and yells,
“They are people just like you, Get a life!” at the accusers. Read more »

It sits on top of the dresser,
Its tarnished silver still glistening.
A heart box, with black velvet
Lining the inside walls.
She gave it to me,
The day before my birthday.
She, who fought in court,
Never gave up once.
Who won, and got it on paper,
The adoption final.
I feel security looking at the heart box.

“Together Forever” it says.

The engraving on the top came off.
On the floor, I glued it back, value returned.
My heart box, in my hands in my room,
Reminding me of late night chats,
Drinking hot chocolate,
Dancing the night away
In a crowd of people who we don’t notice.
It holds an arrowhead I put in from my grandpa,
An amethyst stone from grandma.
It sits there, watching me from its
Home on the glassy top of wood.

A treasure that holds treasures.

Why in the world is there so much violence?
So many tears and sleepless nights?
All the eyes of those who are different silenced;
everyone blinded by closed hearts so tight.

Bare feet run along the dusty red ground,
every pounding pulse is the will to survive.
Words of different tribes are yelled with no sound,
and another innocent soul in heaven arrives.

Straw hats and shovels mark a brown man’s life,
the sun directing all of his ways.
In the streets, a wrong word is met by a knife,
leaving the man with nothing left to say.

Angled brown eyes all look exactly the same;
their wits enough to make them very smart.
Yet leaving their babies on the street bring no shame,
since they were overpopulated from the very start.

One person says that we need to go to war.
The next thing you know, more men are dead.
Now money is scarce, and job opportunities unsure.
Every middle class person has new tears to shed.

All of their life’s, they are lead by their creed, Read more »

Life was near to perfect.
Fights subsided, future almost set.
Sailing through the past few months.
Then it started to change.
Perception of perfection, changed with one word.
Change.
In feelings.
Now life is not near to perfect.

LIFE. PAIN. EMPTINESS.

These three words mingled into one.
To read and watch movies, just so one can be someone else.
Live in their shoes, so one can get a break from feeling hurt.
Appetite is little to none and one has to remind themselves to eat.

CONFUSION. HEARTBROKEN. ME.

I'm trying to find myself in this mess.
PERCEPTION, PERFECTION, DECEPSION, REJECTION

I just need something.
Something to hold onto.
A piece of myself.
I need to forgive, to heal.
But HOW?
How much time has to go by before this ends?

"A part of Life." That's all I'm told.
Time and a part of life. Learning experience. Lesson.
How many life experiences, how many broken hearts?
How much time has to go by before the lesson is learned?

Response to literature. Based on the book Montana, 1948

“In 1948 my father was serving his second
term as sheriff of Mercer County, Montana, (15)”
The flat lands and dirt and wind were my life.
The wind always blew.
It was always blowing something away
or bringing something new in.
That summer of 48, the wind never stopped blowing.
And I was twelve.

We had a housekeeper named Marie Little Soldier.
She was a beautiful Indian girl.
“She had a wide, pretty face and cheekbones so high,
full, and glossy I often wondered if they were Read more »

Response to literature. Based on the book Bless Me Ultima

A loud noise cries out into the night,
announcing the presence of something
momentous.
As keeper of the night,
he soars through the
light, cool breeze,
looking down over the marvelous
valleys of the llano.
He perches himself in
a juniper tree.
Singing softly to the darkness,
putting the little children to sleep.
He watches over a family,
keeping harm as far away as he can.
He eyes his prey and lunges making
sure there is nothing left.
He can see everything that happens in the mists Read more »

It is funny how something can change your life forever; it becomes so addicting that you don’t want to let go. It is your escape, your outlet from the outside world. A place where you can let yourself be free and no one will judge you, because it is your place.

Hmmm, I want to linger.
Hmmm, a little longer.
Hmmm, a little longer here with you. Read more »

Those who don’t know us think we are the regular mother and daughter. They see us in the store and think we look like sisters. They come into our house thinking we live by ourselves. They think she is an extraordinary woman, very beautiful and strong. She walks normal, acts normal, and talks normal. No one would ever know. Read more »

I am looking foward to the day
when someone gives me a long stemmed rose
and a box of chocolates
or a necklace and a pair of earrings
without the thought
that they might gain
something out of it besides
a thank you.

The lights are dim.
The world is full of colors.
Dark greens and reds. Blues and purples.
I feel the music pumping through me.
His arms are around me.
Nothing can interrupt us.
Movement.
We don't stop moving.
His body completely in time with mine.
We are both sweaty and gross but who cares?
Not him. Not I.
Laughter.
He twirls me in circles.
The world still spins when I stop.
We keep laughing.
We don't have a care in the world.
Passion.
His forehead is on mine.
Our eyes are locked.
Everyone is surrounding us, but it's only he and I.
Nothing can break this connection Read more »