NaPoWriMo,  Poetry

I Know, I Know…

I’m really behind. I’m so sorry. We’ve almost completed the move and hope to have the last things out next week. We’ve had very minor snags and everything seems to be going somewhat smoothly, but I will be giddy when this is all over. Packing and unpacking. Trying to make things fit. Sorting away those items that don’t have a new home in the new home…it’s exhausting. On top of it, there’s writing to be done and new schedules for the kids. Somehow, I’m managing to get things settled into a system. And at least the kitchen is unpacked and clean. You have no idea how happy that makes me. The kitchen seemed to be the staging point for everything it seems and it was where all  our packing boxes went. I thought I was in a black hole; I would unpack and take boxes out and somehow they’d reappear while my back was turned. And let’s not discuss the Twilight Zone episode where none of the items we’d ordered showed up so we had to have them shipped again, as well as the missing cable guy who swore we weren’t at home when he came by to set up our internet and cable service.

Sigh.

So, yeah. I’m way behind. Still, I am going to try and at least get something new posted today. I left off at Day 2 on NaPoWriMo so here’s Day 3. The poem I’m posting is one I wrote last year but it fit in so well with the prompt that I felt ok about posting it again. Day 3’s prompt was to write a fan letter poem. There were a few celebrities I had in mind while writing this and I suppose you could say it’s something I would say to those “dreaming” of becoming famous. It’s not for everyone and many have succumbed to the pressure fame claims as it’s cost.

 

fan-mail

Celebrity

By Jesi Scott

 

Your name in lights on the blazing marquee,

Life of the rich and famous and grand luxury.

Sitting in the cinema with your face on the silver screen

Dancing with the leading lady, the latest drama queen.

 

Dream baby, got me dreaming sweet dreams, the whole day through…

 

And there you are, on the red carpet, walking in like that,

Swaggering like Jagger, confidence tipped like a hat.

That cookie-thief grin and those daydream eyes,

Grown-up Georgie Porgie leaves ‘em crying with his sighs.

 

Dream baby got me dreaming sweet dreams, the night-time too…

 

Flashing lights and photo shoots and models on your arm,

You keep the fan-girls melting with your legendary charm.

But what do you do when the boys go in and the girls turn off the light?

Whose bed are your boots under, whose arms hold you tight?

 

I love you and I’m thinking of you, that won’t do…

 

Do you ever miss the days when your face wasn’t so well known?

Do you ever think about a different life, other seeds you could have sown?

A bird in a gilded cage, a prison sweet, but a prison still.

Are you really yourself or the product of someone else’s will?

 

Dream baby, make me stop my dreaming, you can make my dreams come true…

 

And all of the money and sex and rumors, all of the drugs and dross,

Are they worth exorcising your soul, is fame worth that loss?

 

Sweet dream baby…

 

How do you justify the deal you made with the devil’s sycophants?

Maybe happiness can be bought, though it’s hard to see in your diffidence.

 

Sweet dream baby…

 

But you keep me investing in your little fame machine,

Feeding the monster of my fantasies in your tight little jeans.

 

Sweet dream baby…

 

What happened to the little boy who kissed the girls and made them cry?

The media reports he exited stage left without saying goodbye.

 

How long must I dream?

 

There ya go. Yeah, I cheated and re-posted…but this is one of my favorites and really worked with the prompt I think. Tomorrow (maybe) I’ll have a new one. Then again, I’m planning on painting a bathroom blue (because my roses are already red).

xo Jesi

P.S. Coincidentally, last week we received mail for someone two streets over and on our way to pick up more boxes from our old house we stopped by to give it to the owners. Imagine our amusement when, while exchanging introductions, we discovered they had our missing boxes…and the exact same brown door we have. We know where the black hole begins. But, take this as a lesson: ALWAYS double check the name of the street you’re trying to find. *Twilight Zone outro*

Jesi Scott is an aspiring writer of novels, a poet, and blogger. She has guest-blogged over at The Well-Tempered Bards, and has a post featured at For Love Of…. Jesi has two poems published in Memories of Mist, a literary anthology, and one published story in a newsletter. She is currently working on releasing her first poetry collection as well as writing her first novel. When not writing, Jesi can be found getting lost in bookstores, singing and dancing around the house, experiencing culture with friends, and generally having fun with her four sons when they aren’t driving her weeping into her closet, which she calls her Padded Cell. She loves to rescue stray bookmarks, as well as books, and has opened her heart to any and all stories needing a home. Archery is her current favorite thing ever but you might want to stand back a little as she still has a tendency to drop the bow occasionally.

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