Saturday, April 13, 2013

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Yesterday's Mistakes



Don't waste time agonizing over the mistakes you've made, but don't ignore them either. Learning from your mistakes is crucial to your growth and happiness...

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Parasite

I promise I'm no longer bitter, but I wanted to share something written when I was (perhaps it's obvious?)




How dare you call yourself human?
You are a parasite.
You live and feed off your victims, contributing nothing in return.
You are a bottom feeder.
You lurk in the depths of hell and feed off the hopes, dreams and naiveté of the innocent and the sinless.
You continue to pick at the bones when the flesh is long gone then run off with the carcass so there is nothing left to bury.
You've fooled many.
I among them.
You morph effortlessly so no one catches on.
But when you've made your final transition, it's far too late to avoid the inevitable death of another soul.
 
© Susan Barton

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Me Without the You

 
You told me that you loved me
Now I know you lied
Did you  really think I’d wither?
Curl up? Wish I’d died?
 
How sad to be so broken
To lie to one so true
You have no clue what love is
Deception’s what you do
 
I won’t spend time obsessing
the you without the me
Your web of lies aren't binding
I’m glad to be set free
 
One day you’ll fall in love with
someone you’ll think is real
But she won’t love you back
Won’t share the way you feel
 
You’ll be the one that’s lied to
You'll know how much it stings
But I'll be on to other,
Bigger, better things
 

 
© Susan Barton



Saturday, March 23, 2013

A Mother's Dream


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


I dreamed you were a boy again
I held you close and tight
You clung to me like long ago
Eyes innocent and bright
 
Then toddling not too far ahead
I watched your every stride
Giggles drifted through the air
My heart so full of pride
 
But then the dream was over
Reality once more
The man who stands before me
Is marching off to war
 
Against my better judgment
I’m sad this choice you’ve made
I pray the Lord protects you
May angels come to your aid
 
So now I must let go and
I’ll trust you’ll be alright
I’ll close my eyes and hope that
I dream that dream tonight
 
 
                                                                                                      
 

 
                                                © Susan Barton

Murder or Suicide?





















You may be surprised to know
that when you sleep
I press my head to your chest
To be assured you have a heart
 
How can you say you love me,                                
but hurt me to my core?
True, your blows are invisible
My spirit is what’s black and blue
 
I blame myself
I consented to this crime called murder 
And I’ve given you permission                                      
To prolong my death
 
The time has come
To save myself
And walk away
From my own suicide
 
©  Susan Barton 2013

Friday, March 22, 2013

Copper Kettles and Conversation

 
Fingers bent, misshapen, sore
She drinks her tea, stares at the floor
 
Thoughts wandering, she brings to mind
of happy days she left behind
 
Of friends and family who have past
All the memories she’s amassed
 
Days go by without a soul
She knows how old age takes its toll
 
A long, sad sigh escapes her lips
How she yearns for new friendships
 
For copper kettles and conversations would she give
the last few days she’s got to live
 
 
© Susan Barton 2013
 
 


Belladonna

 
 
If I had some belladonna
I’d put some in your soup
Not a lot, only a little
Just to make you sick
Sick enough to need me
And I would nurse you well
If I gave you belladonna
I could climb out of this hell

 
© Susan Barton 2013


Regrets

Last night he looked beautiful
 
Laying in the moonlight

Today he looks ugly

I let my lust get the best of me

The jello shots didn’t help either

I can’t wait to get rid of him

But he looks like he’s

made himself comfortable

Remote gripped in his hand

Feet propped up on my coffee table

I didn’t realize how big

his nose was

Damned bar lighting!

 

Last night she looked so sexy

Sprawled across the bed

But she’s not so hot in the daytime

Her boobs are kinda small

And she’s got some cottage cheese fat

On her chubby butt

That’s the last time I get wasted

And go home with some random chick

At least she has a big screen TV

I can still catch the game
 
 
© Susan Barton 2013

Women Rise Up

Okay sister, listen up.
I’ll only say this once.
If every woman were to lay down
and give up
where would we be?
No right to vote.
No right to choose.
No rights at all.
I know your life’s been harsh.
You’ve been beat down.
I’ve been there too.
Rise up and be angry.
Challenge every unkind word,
slap and blow suffered at the hands of man.
For every unjust act.
React.
Fight back.
Put down the diet pills, padded bras,
wrinkle creams,
and be you.
Not some distorted view
of someone who
has no clue
of what you’ve been through.
Challenge your mothers, sisters,
and most importantly your daughters
to stand up and be heard.
If not for you, then for them.
So that someday things might be better,
easier, safer, unbiased
and equal.
 
 
© Susan Barton 2013
 


Instead of Obsessing I Could Change the World


 
I’ve decided that
 
If I channeled my obsession for you

into a worthy cause

I could move mountains.

 
Instead of planning revenge

I could feed the homeless.

Two hang ups a night instead of twelve?

I’d have time to read to the blind

 
Sitting in my car,

outside your house for hours

could be spent

handing out condoms at school.

 
Going to court for violating

restraining orders

takes more time than

ringing the Salvation Army bell.

 
I could dish out a lot of soup

at the soup kitchen

if I stopped cyber stalking your girlfriend

and emailing your mom.

 
Yes, I could make a difference in this world

if I could get you out of my head

out of my heart

and out of my blood.


© Susan Barton 2013
 
 

Loving Someone Who Used to Love You


 
If we could trade places

for just one day, one hour, one minute,

my pain, I’d gladly give you.

The hollow void you left behind

would  then be achingly suffered

by you night and day.

My life would be as peaceful

as the expression on your face

when last we spoke.

How true, what they say,

the saddest thing is to love someone

who used to love you.
 

©  Susan Barton 2013