To this small kitten I have been smitten She has a cute pink nose And wiry little whiskers Although, I'm allergic I just want to kiss her She has pretty blue eyes And a bobbed wee tail I think maybe I'll name her Gayle Simona A. Brinson
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Don’t try to change me I am who I am I am the daughter of Peter And the sister of Sam I love to read And most definitely write I sometimes write poetry In the dead of night Where the only sounds That I can be heard Are the fluttering wings Of whispered words I enjoy the feel Of my feet in the sand And making mud pies With these two hands Don’t try to change Into someone other I am the sister of Val And Marie is my mother Simona A. Brinson
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I awoke this morning To a painted sky so beautiful That I said to the Lord, Who is most diligent and dutiful "Now Lord, you're just showing out today Your artful hand has not betrayed The depth of your majesty Who other than you Can create such tapestries With stay-puff clouds And magnificent hues Of reds, yellows Magentas and blues" Simona A. Brinson
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How is it that I love Such a man as this? Have I been deceived Or is my judgment amiss? Am I so wrapped up In this artificial skin, That I have lost sight of The queen within? Simona A. Brinson
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I am a sane prisoner In a madhouse of men To this cruelty I shall give pen Ordinary rights I have been so denied My truth used against me Concealed in lies And false morality My voice suppressed By a lack of humanity And oh, what a miserable humanity you are So full of hypocrisy And blindly devoted To the slavocracy Of the status quo That you would criminalize And crucify all that is Unique and undeniably me For that is my only crime Now I find myself in exile Imprisoned and branded a freak In order to gain freedom I must acquiesce to the code of the condemned But I am no hypocrite And I will not bend To the pressures of Societal norms I will not concede Nor, shall I conform So, if there be no justice In this devilish den I shall remain a sane prisoner In a madhouse of men Simona A. Brinson Inspired by: The Princess Louise of Belgium, My Own Affairs
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In the closet Sometimes I HIDE My vanity And my selfish PRIDE From this judging world And its critical TONES For, I fear I may get STONED. But why should I hide From you HYPOCRITES When you're standing In your own piles of SHIT You know what, clean your closets And mop your FLOORS And stay the fuck away From my closet DOORS! Simona A. Brinson
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Tuesday Morning Out by the lake I sat on the ground To take a break And before me Shone the sun So, I gave praise To the One Who breathed life And conquered death And gave the newborn babe The sweetest breath He made roses red And violets blue He created you for me And me for you You are my heart, my soul Though we have not met There will be no discord So, I shall not fret Until then, my love I will rest assured For together We are immured Simona A. Brinson
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When shall winds blow And rains fall To cleanse My bleeding heart From the sorrow And the ache That's torn it all apart When will lilies bloom And marigolds glisten When will the whippoorwill sing So, that I may listen Cause all I can hear From this heart of mine Is the whimpering Of a melancholic whine Simona A. Brinson
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I will not beg you To be a part of me So, I'll set you free To traverse the wild and discover Perhaps many lovers Who have the time to groom And time to teach you A thing or two About love and devotion How to share your thoughts and emotions Because I don’t have the time Nor the inclination To groom a boy into a man I have made my last donation Simona A. Brinson
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I cannot love you
Into loving me
No matter how I try
I can't love you anymore
Nor can I love you any less
Seems I have poured out more love
Than you can bear
Like a tank
You are full of my love
And empty all the same
It puzzles me
How this can be
How can love like manna flow
And be siphoned so quickly
Could it be that your tank
Is really a sieve
Ne'er the place
That love could live
Simona A. Brinson
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My Life In Word 