A poetic challenge...can you appease the Gods of Vanity? ....c/c?

I know Freud's ghost starts stirring,

when he hears my teachers' purring

over my insightful, well-written reports

about something other than mothering

or little boys who come up short.

If he were alive I'd give him a box

of fine hand-rolled Cuban cigars,

discuss treatment via electric shock,

shed tears recalling the phallic years,

solve the mystery of mismatched socks.

I suppose a Freudian slip from my lips

would make you think the man was correct

when he said the Electra in me was skipped;

(no father figure to provide and protect)

or reject

See, I have it all figured out.

I miss you, Sin.

I loved your Pisces poem so very much I ever tell you that? I live them all but that one was exquisite.

Since I have awoken - I remain unbroken.

The rain falls harder, ice, sleet and hail stone.

Through darkness fear and destitution I am alone.

I cannot be broken down,

Even though my vision turns ugly and brown.

Chained to this by-blow little town.

Redneck, blowfly, sundry - want to die.

My ancestors were slaves.

Slaves who committed a crime and sentenced to a life-time

"For the term of his natural life."

Ah but a knife - and suicide, that which I hide - an answer to this cancer.

I hide my face and my disgrace.

It is as though I have a secret place,

Inviolate from all this hate.

Life is an insult to me.

A travesty that should not be.

I open my eyes and I do not see.

The only way for them to win is to kill me -

And that's playing right into my hand - I have made my stand.

I give in - You win.

Pain - Suffering - Torment - Despair.

At this point I don't even care.

I am working on this right now - I like Shirley's poem thus far.

I was about to delete this - but I'll leave it here. Someone may find it interesting despite it being disjointed, off topic, unrelated, silly and hurtful.

I should go now - I hope someone usurps the gods of vanity.

Don’t Blink

For years, I saw the world

Through broken glasses.

Vision was there

But details faded from view.

Persistent, yet spotty prayer

Would wantonly drift from my brain.

Oh, this plea for help,

This plea, for a way to see…

Hope was running on fumes

When sight fell from Heaven.

As an answer burst clear,

When my fog lifted,

And freckles were seen

On the face of my messenger

For the first time

What a gorgeous gift,

To be able to see flaws…

And rejoice in them

EvelynMine 09/29/11

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Oh wow this would take the modesty right out of me but maybe later I will try to fit sexy and perky into a tight little poem! Bwaaaaaa - nice tout you got there!

Okay, Sin...I'll give it a try (by the way, happy to see you)

I cross and uncross my sexy gams

and see your eyes watch me

your lust I can almost reach out and touch

but you'll just have to let me be

as always you want what you can't have

I'm not yours can't you see

those sexy legs you long to touch

belong to your best friend Pete

(pure fiction...well, except for the legs part)

ah... I am so fine simply divine

my striking eyes of blue on you

are making tracks of music as

I stretch across your lens,

unequaled is my smile

my glow all of it me not fake

jello, and when I pass your table dear

all other girls will disappear..

I am real - real messy too from

my ratty jeans to my uncombed do

and my tiny bug tattoo

go obscene green when

I land on your screen and you

gaze in the shades of

baby's blues