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Poems by Susan L. Foret

Diary Of My Life

I am born
and my lips nuzzle a plastic breast.
The mother who sustains my life
shares her time with a boy in pinned cloth
and I spend my time playing with my toes
while sunning in my barred bed.

Half a decade lapses
and pigtails and freckles
wants Daddy to push the swing.
The chilled wind shoves me forward
while his rehearsed hot air
warms a strange family's faces.

Eleven candles inflame
the plainly decorated pastry.
And the boy with whom
I ran the field and tossed the ball
leaves me for studies of a 13 year-old
that I cannot read.

College girl in a new town
millions of printed words are my friends.
But my intelligence betrays me
while the drink burns my throat
and darkness and the locked door
boxes me into his pressure and pain.

She is born
and her lips suckle my voluptuous bosom.
She gives me new life
as I have given her
and our days spent playing
and our nights snuggling beside his clammy back.

Three deceitful years pass
his skin denies our bond.
The so-called man that I couldn't live without
only seeks darker passions
inside a bottle and male flesh
in secrecy.

I am twenty-four
and my lips guzzle cups of caffeine.
The daughter who maintains my life
shares her time with playmates
and I spend my time picking up the pieces
while reading behind my tightly-locked door.

Jazz Filled The Air

She swept the golden brown curl from her face
The roar of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Beaming in the mist of neon and exhaust
With the sunset to her back

He brushed the golden brown curl from her face
The swell of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Glistening in the mist of pillows and sheets
With the moonlight beside her body

She swept the golden brown curl from her face
The chiming of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Shining in the mist of flowers and lace
With the sunrise in her face

He brushed the brown curl from her face
The moan of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Glimmering in the mist of crowds and ink
With the twilight in her face

She swept the grayish brown curl from her face
The howl of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Fading in the mist of smoke and liquor
With the spotlight to her back

He brushed the gray curl from her face
The wailing of jazz filled the air
And he watched her
Withering in the mist of sterility and prescriptions
With the sunset in front of her


Another hello
Another how's life treating you
Another clasped hand
Another titilating kiss
Another good bye
Another closed door
Another night alone

Another too short trip home
Another sorry I'm late
Another how was your day
Another hug
Another kiss
Another cold plate of leftovers
Another late night show
Another turn out the lights
Another good night

Another phone call
Another meeting
Another fight the traffic
Another desk
Another keyboard
Another day
Another dollar

Another pill
Another smoke
Another why me
Another deep depression
Another hideous sunrise

Another precious moment
Another secure feeling
Another new experience
Another place
Another time
Another thinking of no other

Another traveling home
Another see you soon
Another mundane day
Another dreaming of another

Stranger Advice

It was upon a midnight eve
A stranger talked to me
I was walking in the moonlight,
When a hermit I did see.

He looked up from his resting place
And told me a story;
A tale about his long lost love,
A woman named Laurie.

She was a girl he knew for years
And grew to love her name,
But years after she passed away,
He never was the same.

"Don't fall in love, my dear," he said,
"It brings you only pain.
For I have lost that all was life,
I have nothing left to gain."

A single tear ran down his face,
And cleared his weary eye.
He missed his one and only love,
And uttered a big sigh.

He grabbed a gun that was near him
And gasped his final breath,
He looked at me and gave a smile.
Finally, he met death.


Seduced by the taste
Forced by the hunger
I eat from the platter
I meet with the scale

Seduced by the car
Urged by the speed
I drove on the street
I dove from the sirens

Seduced by the kiss
Stimulated by the feel
I laid with the man
I stayed in the bed

Seduced by the smell
Cheered by the thirst
I drank from the bottle
I sank to the floor

Seduced by the fame
Encouraged by the power
I stepped on the weak
I lept to the top

Seduced by the match
Pushed by the fire
I lit from the box
I hit on the house

Seduced by the high
Enlivened by the need
I sat on the street
I pat on the vein

Seduced by the money
Applauded by the thrill
I robbed from the store
I sobbed in the cell.

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Biographical sketch: I have been writing various types of poetry as a hobby for several years. After
encouragement from friends, I am trying to have more of my works published. I hope you enjoy them, as I have enjoyed writing them.

Susan L. Foret recommends:

The Complete Poems by Anne Sexton

Reason: Sexton's unique, yet dark visions touched me, as I could relate to her deepest feelings
revealed through her words. What a tragedy that she is no longer with us.

Recommendations for writers:

Perhaps, I am not qualified enough to answer, but as a novice writer, I try to do "emotional recall" and conjure up feelings, thoughts, smells, and sights and relate them in my works. I also find it helpful to write, as a means of venting, when I am in a highly emotional state.


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