Just my thoughts...

Just my thoughts...
The randomness that is I

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Musical Genre of You

The reason for my song.

The refrain? I love you more than anything. My world. The song I sing.


Our chorus was unrehearsed, yet perfectly coordinated in pitch, tone and rhythm.

Then there was the bridge. There was no troubled water, we just sang a little softer.

Soon there were no lyrics to sing. We just hummed our way along, still in unison, this beautiful song.

Then the duet faded into a solo, almost done.

How do I stop the music in my heart from playing our song?

You were my verse.

Unpublished work © 2010 D. Newman





Butterfly kisses, french kisses, a peck on the cheek.

Each of these kisses fulfill a need. In me.




Kiss on the forehead.

Kiss on the neck.

Kiss between the shoulder blades on my back.

October 31, 2007

Unpublished work © 2007 D. Newman

inner rage


hand connecting


fist crunching


bookcase turning


glasses shattering


tires spinning


tears falling


heart breaking

Unpublished work © 2009 D. Newman


I get so lonely,

don't want just anyone holding me.

Gotta share more than a sex drive.

Does anyone really know I'm alive?

They say oh you're so this and so that,

man, I'm so lonely, I don't even own a cat.

Physical attention is great, don't get me wrong,

but where is that one person who gets my song

I sing

without even opening my mouth?

The one with a ring.

There was one, once upon a time,

that I thought was the rhythm to my rhyme.

The lyrics to my song.

Worthy of my time.

Guess I was wrong.

"I could..."

"We should..."

"So good...


But how many times did you come see me?


Your actions are louder

than any one word spoken.

Not once have you ever given me a single token

of your love

or something "just because".

The happy couple that never was.

You say I deserve this and that, yeah I do.

Obvious to me, it won't be coming from you.

Does anyone get me?


I'm so much more than what you see.



Not even close.

Can I have your attention? I'd like to make a toast

to the beautiful, sensitive, compassionate, strong, fiercely protective person that is me.

The one not many take the REAL time to see.

I may never find my one and only.

Will I find a way to kick this sadness and not be so lonely?

Unpublished work © 2010 D. Newman


It's warm and humid
A hot breeze
Dark clouds cover the heavens
Suddenly cool winds blow
A rumble you can feel in your belly
Flashes throughout the sky

Raindrops splatter against my skin
Large wet drops
Not a lot, just a few at a time
There's almost a chill in the wind
As the drops become smaller, they multiply
Another rumble rolls through the sky

The rain is cleansing
My hair is plastered to my face
Dress to my body
I need this cleansing
I need freedom
I pull my dress over my head
Toss it to the side
The spring shower pelts my body

I kick off my shoes
And step in a puddle
Wiggle my toes
I reach behind me
And 1, 2, 3, 4 the girls are free
The cold rain causes my nipples to tighten even more

Another low rumble across the sky
I loop my fingers through the sides of my panties
And slide them down
There I stand, in all my glory
Hands up and out and reveling

Unpublished work © 2010 D. Newman

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

He Loves Me

****Written during Domestic Abuse Month****

He promised he'd never leave me. Take care of and cherish me, because he loves me.

Bitch! Whore! Slut! He didn't mean it though, because he loves me.

He threatened to kill me, but he loves me.

He got me ice when he blackened my eye, because he loves me.

He held my hand when they sucked my dead baby out of me, because he loves me.

He didn't mean to push me down those steps. I know, because he loves me.

He even picked up my prescription for that "thing" he gave me, because he loves me.

He doesn't want to meet my family because he loves ME.

I know he's fucking her, but its because she throws herself at him. HE-LOVES-ME.

He slammed me against the wall and I can't get up, but deep down I know he loves me.

I'm in a coma and he's not here. He must not have a way here, I know he loves me.

I'm gone and he didn't even come to the funeral. I guess he didn't love me.

Unpublished work © 2009 D. Newman