Friday, April 22, 2005
Simply Said - 3rd version
Drag Simply said: I miss her. 25-hour days are killing me. Where is she tonight? I'm crashing and sinking Need a fix of honey. She used to call me her superhero. What kind of hero has pizza crust in his bed? Super-zero. Need to feel like a regular guy, one with clean sheets and friends to meet. I feel like having a cigarette. I need this drag to get me by. Need a patch to get me through this one. Need a patch to get me through this night. Simply asked: Do you ache for me? Would you think of me...
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writers block- a plea for help
writers block- a plea for help every morning for the past week I sat in front of my screen, finally i have some time but nothing comes out. Has the well run dry on Vib?hum...the snow has melted and I promised to come down from my tower when the sap returned, so I`m back..anyone has any suggestions to get me going again? Love, Vibrance:-)
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Sunday, April 17, 2005
Johnny's heartbreak
Sometimes when I see you it's so shameful to me I can hardly contain my pain god I must be vain The world is bleeding in front of my very eyes well it is, well it is, well it is just turn on the télé. My world is bleeding Yeah Johnny's heartbreak is on the six o'clock news A fabricated tale of my dismembered life without you Is it flattering to you to see me flat on my back? Pretty baby in my fantasy walk me down to the waterfront where the breeze is easy... pretty baby. In my fantasy... Yeah...
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Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Falcon over Central Park ~ 3rd version
Falcon over Central Park ~ I have a bird view of the world perched high in my tower Downtown Montreal. Like a falcon over Central Park. Life, the light is much prettier from up here than down there. Men in gray coat with faces to match roaming the earth. Dirty sidewalks and melting snow, sheets of newspapers flying around are as far as it gets from my dreamland of sea and sand. From up here, I see the clouds floating by, the cargo boats streaming along Saint-Lawrence River wave formations that I...
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Wednesday, March 2, 2005
that's what love is.
did you believe them when they told that she wasn't carrying your baby? did you believe them when they told you that she hadn't been true? never, never, you said.Never my love would be so cruel. Never my girl you said. The little boy doesn't have you eyes, your nose, the little boy doesn't have your anything but then again, he's got your smile, family expression is what they say... so...so what. That's what love is. Blind. Kind. And please hold, hold and hold on tight to each other for this...
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Thursday, January 27, 2005
I dreamt of
visiting Poland on January 27, where I would attend a commemoration ceremony to be held on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of liberation of the Nazi Auswitch, then I faced the reality that I would not be able to go, so I got up this morning and wanted to write a poem. I can't. I just want to tell you, and you and you over there and over here, that I love you. I just want to give you love. I want love. Oui, je t'aime. Ane
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Wednesday, January 12, 2005
prophet
the next prophet will come to me in the guise of a crescent moon chocolate sweet, succulent and good for my mood. anybody who is kind and willing to spend money is welcome to call me. the next prophet will be a poet. Maybe.
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Friday, December 31, 2004
See my blog in Spirituality and Religion. :-)
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Wednesday, December 29, 2004
blue dress
i knew you would call just like that pick up the phone sitting at your desk with the view of the bay to say nothing that I care to hear. I have a different view the woman with the blue dress for ever forever for ever in the shade smiling at you and me in this equation not quite the same in the horizon next time i'll skip a heartbeat and won't take the call, dear.
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Monday, December 27, 2004
Opening scene for the GOLDEN LIGHT OF LASKHMI
SCENE 1: IN. DAY. INSIDE LARRY'S TRUCK / NICOLE'S HOUSE ON THE PHONE. BLACK SCREEN, the opening credit rolls as we hear the following and slowly takes in the location. LARRY, a tall, slim trucker with blue eyes, dirty blond hair and bad teeth, is driving fast. He looks panick striken and anxious. Larry takes a deep breath before speaking. LARRY I'm getting there, I'm getting there... NICOLE (Firmly, with a slight French accent) Larry, slow down honey, slow down! LARRY(with a Florida accent) I...
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Killer for Hire
I searched Killer for Hire and came up with you but you are the reason for my hunt What's a girl to do? I'm not asking for an answer It doesn't matter how far I run you're always pursuing us I wonder if we're going to finish on the six o'clock news Man kills his wife and child I searched Killer for Hire and found Witches of the World Unite What's a witch to do?
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Monday, December 20, 2004
but for now.
It is so cold today the smoke at the factory way in the horizon is roaring at me,galloping toward my balcony. Is that the best Romeo I can manifest? A thick blanket of dark smoke. In warmer days, it dissipates and never brings attention to itself. But today... Well your words are cheap. Blew up in smoke. Is that why I'm seeing it in that light today? It's so cold outside, a Montreal winter of icy hell where everything stands still, only the most courageous or slave to the labour force venture...
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Sunday, October 17, 2004
Tibet I pray for you
I watch you hop around my home and bring gentleness and laughter to whoever glances at you How apt it is that we named you Boudha.Boudha. Boudha. the thing is as I meditate on the state of your homeland I tell myself no wonder the Chinese succeeded in genociding your gentle people You are honoured with the charge of guarding and protecting Lhasa the sacred town you fluff silky stubborn and radiant being of love is no match to the tanks you don't even bark I pray for you Tibet I pray for you...
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Tuesday, September 7, 2004
Voice
Voice. That kind of smoky cigar whiskey voice That makes me want to melt in the present And forget any promises of tomorrow that were ever made to me. That I ever made. (dolce) He had that kind of smoky cigar whiskey voice. And I forgot all promises ever made. If men only knew what women are capable of If men only knew how deep our urges are and how dark our rage is, They would would stir in their sleep They would cower in the shade with fear crawling up their spine They would cover our feet...
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Wednesday, September 1, 2004
Once a belief in me
Once a belief in me, a gift from my mother and her mother before her that men would look after my sisters and I lived deeply inside. So long ago, it was in me. That my beauty and eccentricity would grant me security. Now all of this is long gone and now I take what I can get. Yes I take what I can get and I get what I can give. It’s two in the morning, got lost again on one of those damn California freeways and the guy at the gas station says to me “you're driving alone pretty lady” - and I say...
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Friday, August 27, 2004
children are not ours
he is ours. legally he belongs to his father he belongs to me. We fight my half his half what's left for the kid in that equation what happened to compassion Something is wrong children don't belong to anyone children are not ours children are fools seeking peace and adventure I belong to him. While he sleeps in my bed I belong to him. While he detaches I belong to him. That's all. I gave birth to him little ego of mine takes pride in knowing He doesn't belong to me. I'd settle for Urban justice...
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Wednesday, August 18, 2004
We are what we are
He presented himself as a predator of sex Quite obviously a wolf of lust I shot him down as a lamb he came back I love you he said as a friend too if that is what it must be As a woman of character a bee with her honey I opened my arms Steadfast I held to my belief of mutual respect and camaderie Expectations weren't met now I get barely cordiality do I care? Sure I do. do I miss? Sure I do. As a woman of character As a predator of sex we are what we are. Ane Laszlo-Howard, copyrighted August...
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Saturday, August 14, 2004
Memory (c)
I remember The days we spent together How you led me to what sounded like forever My sweetest darling, moments by moments felt so intense laughter and kisses that would never end but from then on to a place in my heart torn by whispers and hisses Tell me You Tell me How about when a man who has lost a woman can after all these years Rise into her… Memory and bring her down crying on her knees Do you remember these moments too – that first kiss You said “Men Kill for a woman like you”. You said...
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Thursday, August 12, 2004
A Yogic Love Song~Plunder My Spirituality~
Eternal love and unconditional devotion. This is your song. The song of the "I Love you", whispered in the middle of the night. Yet this is the love song of defeat and fear of water that was never swam across. This is the song about the day you looked at me and said “We went to the Mountain Top. As high as I get. But this Might Not Be Right for Me". These are the words about my capacity for love. Show me. Show me. Show me where it says that I will accept that non-sensual rebuttal of my love, - I...
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Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Monologue of grief & Loss
Monologue/poetry maybe in another form. Comments and suggestions by my fellow bloggers are most-welcome. PAULINE, 1978. The set: A bedroom furnished Scandinavian style, early 70s. A woman in her late thirties, early forties sits in front of her vanity, facing away from the mirror. The bags from Holt Renfrew are still on the floor. She walks over to them and picks them up and starts rummaging through the bags while sitting on the floor, "What did I buy again? Yuri will love that black dress. Is...
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