Hi all! Here's what you need to know about me: I write a bit, I recite a bit, I talk a lot! Thanks for stopping by!🎈
Fleeting -It's on my left arm; it sears. It's on my wings; I try to bear it; in tears. It's in my chest; It beats. It's in the air; I suck it in and it fogs my wits. It used to be inside my mother. It still resides within my father. It's growing inside my sister's womb, as we speak. It fills every second of my time; be it minute, hour or week... I have it here, somewhere...Among my daggers and swords... Look! It's almost out but it's still lit... -Lovely. Any last words? -Yes. I'd like some more of it! ------------------------------------------------------ "It does not promise to deliver souls across the sea For it is not the ship of hope. It is meant for the Powers that Be that won't let me be; it was that or hanging rope. It is courtesy for the fragile fierceness that is my pen; and ash kicked at Their judging eyes It is the black garment meant to be worn only when I am in need of a good disguise. It is not the pulchritudinous bud of purple or white no fragrant blossom of a tropic shade! It is not the last crisp brushstroke of a spring night before rite of passage to summer is made. No hint of vague promise, no "perchance", “ perhaps”, no “maybe”, “possibly” or “might”. It stands for "I am mine"! May the old order collapse so that I alone decide what battles to fight! It is not plaintive of any permissions, no polite pray to be excused; feigning to be cordial. It is not the white glove of propriety, the polite way to offer a suggestion or proposal. It is not meant to poison you with doubt; albeit cryptic it is no vilifying naked tooth. It's an impression to hopefully lure the unbiased critic while taking the focus off of the dismal truth. It is meant to conceal, fog; a decoy till I make it safely outside; slip away when I must; be elusive. It is a meaningless empty herald that's there to hide the tedious person within; it's all illusive! It is the passport that will help me cross the border from cowardice to bravery; like so many before me- It is necessity; mere letters arranged in a certain order: Mae Foreman: It means nothing! It's just a name for me. P.S. The day that someone calls me by my real name and proudly I say "aye" Then only will I truly be in terms with all that's I. "Art is the imaginary solution to a problem that is unsolvable in real life."
I am a Greek woman; born, raised and still living in Greece; currently in my late twenties. I fell in love with music from early on as a young girl and through it I discovered poetry. I have been writing for the past four years. WOL has been a great outlet for me. It hosts a lovely community which embraced me and helped me get over my fear of exposure! Here I was able to experiment, discover new interests and develop other skills. One of them is reciting, which I've come to love and which I have lately been pursuing more seriously. I write prose, poetry, short stories, mother goose rhymes and just whatever my head can put together! I hope you enjoy my work. I still use my pen name "Mae Foreman" because over time I've grown accustomed and frankly fond of it as it enabled me to be bold, but at the end of the day, I am the same person I was, before I cooked up my alias! You can contact me via WOL or through the e-mail adresses I display on the section above. Thank you 🎈 Nora
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
The 21st Century Paradigm (18/07/2019)
The Benefits and The Perils (18/07/2019)
The Bluebird and the Wallflower (17/07/2019)
Mid-Summer Monsoon, Pantoum (16/07/2019)
The Madman and The Lunatic (14/07/2019)
Wake Up And Smell Reality (11/07/2019)
The Summer of my Dismay (Volume 27) (10/07/2019)
Mirror Says (08/07/2019)
Ring Around The Poison Ivy (26/06/2019)
Rage, rage, rage! (22/06/2019)
Secret Truth (29/03/2019)
Love Song (27/03/2019)
Keep it Close (19/02/2019)
GR (In the South) (09/02/2019)
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.