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Quotes about addie

Aspiring Miss DeLaine

(A CHEMICAL NARRATIVE)

Certain facts which serve to explain
The physical charms of Miss Addie De Laine,
Who, as the common reports obtain,
Surpassed in complexion the lily and rose;
With a very sweet mouth and a retrousse nose;
A figure like Hebe's, or that which revolves
In a milliner's window, and partially solves
That question which mentor and moralist pains,
If grace may exist minus feeling or brains.

Of course the young lady had beaux by the score,
All that she wanted,--what girl could ask more?
Lovers that sighed and lovers that swore,
Lovers that danced and lovers that played,
Men of profession, of leisure, and trade;
But one, who was destined to take the high part
Of holding that mythical treasure, her heart,--
This lover, the wonder and envy of town,

[...] Read more

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Kim Basinger

My priorities had been changing before I had Addie but after she was born they changed completely. I don't count - my daughter sort of owns me.

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Glass Candy

Glass candy
Transparent
Pink, blue, green, orange
Any color.
Glass candy
Inedible
Invisible
To most.
Glass candy
Shiny
New
Kind of rare, right?
Glass candy
This poem is nonsense
But at least it makes a point
About glass candy.

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Porcelain Dancer

I opened the music box
And music poured out,
Enchanting me.
Inside the music box
A porcelain dancer
Spun round and round
On her toes.
I lifted a finger
As the music died out
And touched the tiny dancer
She was cold
That tiny dancer
Of porcelain.

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So Long Ago

'To thee, who lost a love as I,
Allow this little book of living song
To bring thee solace, and the comfort
That is thine, to know thou livist not alone,
To bear a burden such as mine.
Addie Marketier,1853.'

As if it were a live, hot coal
That seared my heart,
I held this little book of love sonnets
That she had held so long ago.
I turned the pages she had turned. I touched
The teardropp stains on lines of verse
That she had underscored,
And left the pressed rosebud
Where it had lain a century or more.

I thought of what the past had wrought
With images of her soul-grief.
I seemed to feel her presence, as a being

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The Angry Soup Of Racism

ain't it a shame:

when hate lynches

a 14 year old, Colored boy

in 1955, Mississippi,

and blows away the dreams of

(four innocent little Negroe girls) ,

in 1963, Birmingham, Alabama.

yeah,

bus that to your segregated thoughts:

as I “interracially” walk you,

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The Priest They Called Him

fight tuberculosis, folks. christmas eve, an old
Junkie selling christmas seals on north park street.
The priest, they called him. fight tuberculosis, folks.
People hurried by, gray shadows on a distant wall.
It was getting late and no money to score.
He turned into a side street and the lake wind hit him like a knife.
Cab stop just ahead under a streetlight.
Boy got out with a suitcase. thin kid in prep school clothes,
Familiar face, the priest told himself, watching from the doorway.
remindsme of something a long time ago. the boy, there, with his overcoat
Unbuttoned, reaching into his pants pocket for the cab fare.
The cab drove away and turned the corner. the boy went inside
A building. hmm, yes, maybe - the suitcase was there in the doorway.
The boy nowhere in sight. gone to get the keys, most likely,
Have to move fast. he picked up the suitcase and started for the corner.
Made it. glanced down at the case. it didnt look like the case the boy had,
Or any boy would have. the priest couldnt put his finger on what was so
Old about the case. old and dirty, poor quality leather, and heavy.
Better see whats inside. he turned into lincoln park, found an
Empty place and opened the case. two severed human legs that belonged to

[...] Read more

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