A Poem by Monday Parker




Abandon religions

Forgotten futures

Past dead

The dust of a yearbook friend

Only salty memories of

Sour young breath

Gone at half past the hour

Leaving only warm plastic chairs

I stand on rolling green hills

My sandaled shoes, squeaking with wet grass

Looking down my passionate mind

Contemplating what ifs

Only what if

But no, here she sleeps

With a head pillow of earth worms

With their strange accordion bodies

Eating away the marks her past left

Mistakes and occurrences of a childhood

Left her mean with crumbled sprit

Twisted dirty laundry

Chipped trashy blue nail polish


That was all that was left of her

After that night

After than man

And that was her wrapped up in that green bag


What about her mother?

To her the horrific stories of her first born

Her cookie monster

Her punky Brewster wanta be

He left only pieces of her flesh

Matching really

To the patchy clips of her past

She never was whole.

I stand here, watering her grave

With my sorrow

How long ago she changed me

Left me with some of her pieces

Still years later

Making sure my nail were freshly painted

No chips


© 2008 Monday Parker

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That sounds so sad.. I cant say I like the sadness of this one...kinda takes me to a dark place. Is this real? Whats going on in this one? I always like yur descriptions...could almost feel the grass

Posted 7 Years Ago

love its!!!! so discriptive!!!! keep writing!!

Posted 10 Years Ago

your writing is so inside.. i dont know if im saying it right.. thats the only way i can describe it. So sad and true all at the same time. I think we should all try in think
no chips.
cuz the people before us that just let it all slip away
grew gray with regret... and then passed.

Posted 10 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
Added on February 6, 2008
Last Updated on March 1, 2008


Monday Parker
Monday Parker

Sacramento, CA

I am better with words.... more..