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Friday, November 14, 2008

Lighting Matches To Memories

It’s was so cold outside yesterday. The only event I was looking forward to last night was taking a hot shower, putting on my favorite pajamas, powering up my laptop, and blogging. The moment I had looked forward to all day was ruined when I noticed that the water wasn’t getting hot. On a good day, the water in my house is so hot you could fry a whole chicken and boil pasta. My suspicions were confirmed however when I could see that my pilot light had gone out. It could only happen to me and on one of the coldest nights of the year. The one thing keeping me from enjoying the perfect night, at least in my mind, is my fear of matches. Instantly I was transported back to Denham Springs, Louisiana and the time my brother set our house on fire. It was right after Christmas and my Grandmother had just given me a crate of beautiful books and a bookshelf. I loved my books, and I would read one book every night before I drifted off to sleep. My precocious brother was spoiled rotten. On this particular day my Mother would not give into his temper tantrum or his demands. In unruly defiance my brother cemented himself in my closet and thus became a pint- sized arsonist. The fire destroyed everything I’d gotten for Christmas. My beloved books my Grandmother had sent me were burned beyond recognition. I’ve been afraid of matches ever since.
For goodness sake, all I wanted to do was put soap and water on my body and a childhood fear had resurfaces. I knew that as long as I couldn’t bring myself to strike those damn matches, I would have to live with the smell coming from my body. Okay flash forward. I had a few options. I could take a cold shower, light the damn matches, or call someone. I chose the latter. I sat in the horrid stench of my armpits and waited until my handy man hero lit my fire. Isn’t it funny how you think you are over events that happened years ago and then one single event reminds you that you aren’t? It might seem ridiculous to you that I’m afraid of matches. I think maybe the matches gave me the freedom an excuse if you will that allowed me to be afraid. The books are gone, my childhood is gone, and my brother who took his life is gone. Maybe lighting the matches would signal that even after 11 years my only brother really is gone. By lighting the matches I could admit that I was angry at my brother for causing that fire that destroyed my books and a piece of my childhood. I wasn’t ready to do that. Strongholds can easily be built in our subconscious, but they must be demolished so that healing can take place.
None of me is free until all of me is free.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 8

Monday 11:52 pm

I’m starting another week nope still not dead

Even if the “S” is tarnished on my chest

My heart is protected like a Secret Service vest

Met a really nice man who insists on keeping me fed

I got AIDS but I’m still cute vanity goes to my head

A former whore has to eat for dinner we met

Regular visits to the salon AIDS doesn’t stop me from looking my best

Dinner was casual mutual attraction stored in a mental shed

Xenophobia won’t prevent me going where his Latin eyes led

He stared at my lips I think he digs the color red

No sex without a wedding ring that’s how I go to bed

My anonymous tip for lustful couples wishing to wed

Memories linger but finally I’ve let go of Jess and Ted

I feel so caged in this two story empty nest

Jess & Ted beat me to heaven but I was promiscuous with my sex

The Holiday Season approaches this will be the loneliest one yet

Do I feel lonely? Would I like some company yes

I’ve mastered hardship. I keep a 4.0GPA on hard tests

A sailor on his last tour of duty I want to be at parade rest

Tuesday 12:20 am

Dressed for my appointment don’t I look smart?

Ran my fingers across my blazer like a musician on a harp

Checking my reflection God checked my heart

Three strikes and you’re “Nurse” that needle is sharp

That nurse I got today isn’t quite up to par

Where was her degree obtained? She don’t look too smart

She kept missing my veins not good for my heart

If this damn doctor takes any longer I’m headed to my car

I fidget in the waiting room my thoughts travel far

Shit I forgot my Beano excuse me while I fart

Gas is a natural bodily function even if it breaks the charts

A lady doing unladylike things online with a naughty shopping cart

Wednesday 10:59pm

More than ever believing in dreams is a must

A former, a black man elected President, things are looking up

Some want the contents not the cup

White ivory on an elephant’s tusks

My face the day America chose a colored face to trust

Hope is like WD-40 applied so my dreams won’t rust

I listen to Boyz II Men Nate is the fine I got a crush

Not planning on dating, fantasies well hidden like a squirrel hoarding nuts

Kegal exercises make everything tight especially my butt

My hair still colored black. I untangle it with a wire brush

My rambunctious Shih Tzu Ginger thinks she’s tough

If the little bitch keeps peeing in the house a cold winter outside will be rough

Thursday 7:22pm

The secret of my success, fail until I succeed

CNN keeps them honest exposing culprits of corporate greed

Anderson Cooper is a “silver fox” his strut is mean

My personal chef uses EVOO instead of grease

This former whore could use a bailout but a cure for AIDS is what I need

Tears of never finding a remedy flow like a stream

The Liberal media helps me digest the GOP’s nasty leaks

I’m allergic to death it’s like an invasive dust making me sneeze

Cures need money not handshakes, speeches and dreams

I want more years but I got only a few weeks

Whatever I’ve fought for is worth more than I lost it seems

I wish I’d been more of lady than a paid tease

But which “John” is responsible for sowing dirty semen into me

I sleep on my stomach now my back hurts from receiving “Johns” seed

I ran through men like loaded bases onan All Star team

Now a hazardous waste bin for my dirty needles lies at my feet

Friday 10:38am

Early onset dementia transports me to a medieval fable

Maybe I’ll get an Oscar for my supporting role with Clark Gable

I wanted to get up today I don’t think I’ll be able

Pain has frozen me solid I yell for my hospice nurse Mable

Fuzz has started to grow on my navel

Reaching for my medication 20 pill containers on my night table

I’m drinking blueberry pancakes through a straw with warm syrup that’s maple

It’s amazing what I get done from home with a laptop and cable

It’s so cold in Iowa the coat I wear faux sable

I’d like to move to Florida to the city of Naples

Saturday 7:52pm

I said a tearful goodbye to the girls boy did it hurt

I got a beautiful plaque to show my worth

I make amends with everyone to whom I’d been a jerk

I even prayed for the soul of the “John” that was a Turk

I saw the Death Angel on the morning of the Fourth

I wish I had more time to make my life work

My parents are in town right now they are at church

Mother still knits. Father cries wearing a Find A Cure shirt

Both praying I make it and an empty casket isn’t 6ft in the dirt

A white dove outside my window on the ledge he perched

I’ll be exchanging death for heaven with the idea I flirt

I remember my babies one aborted, the other dead at birth

Sunday 8:00pm

My body betrayed me I’m thinking about him too

I enjoy his friendship I plus I think he’s cool

Wish I could reset life’s stopwatch back a sin or two

Then live out loud the way I always wanted to

He’s unaware of my illness maintaining privacy is hard to do

I’m addicted to his presence like foreign fuel

Every time I see him I say hold my mule

I need a safe place to tell my truth

8 is the number of starting new

I hid my “Diary” beneath a church pew

After I’m gone, Random House publish what I’ve written for you

Affairs are in order towards heaven I move

I delete my MySpace account I had 8,888,888 views

Dressed in my “Home Going” clothes, I removed my shoes

Death is near I read the spiritual clues

Angel of death hovers over me with a voice that soothes

Breathed my last “Lynn Moore” a former whore gone too soon

I couldn’t beat death my legacy lives in my “Diary” row 222

Heaven is so kickass. Heaven is wild like a peaceful zoo

The pimp in the velvet vest made it to heaven too

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 7

Monday 1:01am



Dilated eyes fixed on the podium big like a deer


In my estimation I've earned the girl’s tears


Transparency cancels pretense an eased conscience wearable and sheer


I hammer the ladies with anecdotes of the past and recent years


Sharing individual stories are shared over Kleenex and hugs not pretzels and beer


Sex, lies, and videotape maybe too much for an "untouched" virgin's ears


The secrets in this room beg for a politician's campaign to smear


Sisters openly discussing everything no subject is a road we won't veer


Holding hands through our darkness so the "light" at the end of the tunnel for all is clear


Convinced that triumph is attainable in unison, we rise and cheer


Tuesday 2:02am


Born at different times, yet our souls are the same age


They give me purpose keep me on an even page


I'm still cute and Power Point earns me a livable wage


Helping consumes the void where there was only hate


Agape love won't be confined or locked in a cage


Life, the place you don't get to practice before you go on stage


The pressure of living is too hard to gauge


Spontaneous combustion is possible given enough rage


If I can get one girl through this day


She will get up tomorrow and stare a bright future in the face


We are all molded by the "Great Potter" fashioned out of marred clay


AIDS hasn't claimed me after "HIS" righteousness I chase


Victory came by learning the error of my ways


Now I go to life instead of work and still get paid


No longer condemned by the choices I made


I continue helping young girls feel the same


I teach them about the man with the unforgettable name


Jesus Christ, the healer of all my pain


The eraser of all my shame


This Jewish man responsible for all my "foreign" aid


Like Barack Obama I vow to finish a "historical" race


Locked on target like my man Max Payne


Krispy Kreme doughnuts that unforgettable glaze


I eat a whole dozen fat grams can't take joy's place


Wednesday 3:03pm


I use to pray as often as I paid the water bill


God seemed like a distant relative, not a Father I could feel


The course before me a mountain not a mole hill


"He" forgave me after the life I've lived, the blood I spilled


Dying to belong when it was sinful desires I had to kill


Regret is a quota I hope I never fill


If guilt could I know “it” would send me a bill


Check my till


Not empty still


I was born with an unrelenting will


To live abundantly, go to heaven then chill


I'm still cute, reclaiming my life right now is my latest thrill


Thursday 4:04am


Like a ravaging cancer that has spread to my other breast


Negative thoughts still creep assaulting my rest


Dreams of my youth wasted with a pimp in a velvet vest


I laugh at AIDS thinking it's my final test


Money divides classes of people, but sex adds them in the same bed


The naughty deal done we fly back to our segregated nests


Friday 5:05am


Most of the men I slept with, if known would headline tomorrow's news


Hush money did more than make me quiet it coerced me to be mute


I was always fearful that my skeletons will jump out and say boo


"Lynn Moore" is my real name but "whore" was the "one" I answered to


The "John's" who paid for me had the power sex was a power tool


Benjamin Franklin gave me my cues


Thousands of 3 minute love affairs no wonder my body feels used


Say what you want, I paid some hefty dues


"John" or "Jane" can’t throw money and get me to what they want me to do


Legal living pays the least a clear conscience and pays dividends never taught in school


Getting up and going to life, not work, a 401K with eternal returns cool


The "she" living in my head evicted on the 12th of June


I served "her" notice after the Holy Spirit challenged "her' to a duel


All my "demons" have been exorcised, drowning in redemption's pool


Salvation is a choice. Sanctification is an entirely different process too


I don't need the comfort of a man I can make it through


Feeling so good I assassinated my flesh it was the perfect coup


Smiles linger on my face like early morning dew


"Lynn Moore" the former whore, journaling new rules


Saturday 6:06pm


An election season at the end, things start to get colder


Changing like John McCain as I scour my new client's folders


Seated in eerie silence feigned toughness rolls like a Colorado boulder


The sullen face of one girl strikes me mentally I reach out to hold her


Condemnation over everything "she" is the clay that molds her


Refusing to give up, I repeat they shall live their lives like its golden


Life comes full circle. The more you know you grow a little bolder


Sunday 7:07am


Journaling thoughts helps me understand what all of this means


Gripping the rails skating in small circles afraid to let go in the rink


Falling still trying to hold on I get up and don't blink


Some things I did because I could, others because I didn't think


Swallowing pills sensing good and bad angels on the scene


The whole bottle I didn't want to feel another thing


Bad angels chased me to death. Good angels chased life back into me


The entire bottle I still managed to stand on my feet


AIDS lies dormant basically balled up in a sheet


Jesus is wholly responsible for "Lynn Moore" needs


I'm cured of my "Fetish" I can't wear your clothes anymore Eve


No more paw prints I cover my tattoos with tailored sleeves


I purr like a conservative Republican not a liberal Democrat in a frenzied heat


Before I dress I caress good vibes positive words feel better than tweed


Weren't you ever taught that "nothing" is what it seems


The mind wanders to places never knowing where those places lead


Are you baffled at how a "whore" could be exonerated of murder in 7 weeks


Imagine my face when I realized this "Diary" was a 49 day dream

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 6

Monday 8:32 pm



Happiness is the pool I'd really like to drown


A fatal prognosis is why I frown


I'm so lost I doubt I'll ever be found


3 "familiar faces haunt my conscious now


A velvet vest, camouflage and "her" every time I look around


The dreams I had were worth writing down


Even nightmares find my journal a great place to lounge


God insists on talking but I tune Him out


My past still has the louder mouth


It whispers so low that I think it's loud


Going back is North and moving up is South


My compass constantly points to doubt


Hospice nurses all over my house


Consistently missing my veins ….ouch


Tuesday 5:21 am


A faded picture of "her" in a silver frame


When Lynn Moore was "her" name


"She" was still cute but never that vain


"Her" beautiful face looked the same


Why had "she" darkened her gorgeous mane


The little sanity I have left doesn't feel sane


My anger bridled like a sedated animal finally tame


Mixed feelings of hurting "her" make me feel lame


My only intent only was to maim


Then the rules of engagement began to change


If only the "pimp hadn't changed "her" name


She wouldn't have left and aborted baby "Shane"


I had come for "her" and hopefully to claim


Poetic justice from this mesmerizing dame


Maybe forgiveness a new target at which to aim


Wednesday 12:38 am


Cut the crap and cut the check


Since "I" took over Amari's is the best


7 whole days and "business" hasn't been slow yet


Words from the velvet-vested "one" to the picture of the chef


Katt Williams heard the "pimp" distress signal, I escaped death


Got to get ready for the "Playa's Ball…pimps never rest


My velvet –vest was bulletproof, the bullet was a failed test


There was never a "body" with "her" head I wanted to mess


The men in the suits were sent by me not….Feds


I've been watching the "whore", I know "she" killed Jeff


The menu for tonight whore and ex- boyfriend dead


Like a wrongfully convicted felon, I always pay my debts


I'll "smoke" both their asses and I'll jet


Just like Jess


From prison, I got him "hooked on Meth


Maybe I’ll cage them both like pets


The "mood" oh I’ll definitely I'll set


I'll be the best "John" "she" ever met


She can't get rid of me I'm in "her" head


"Her" the name "whore" when "she" laid on Roe v. Wade's bed


Thursday 6:19 pm


Transgressions have again landed me in a quagmire


Will 4 deadly letters finally let me retire


My life is a landmine and I'm the tripwire


Of the Lord I now wanted to inquire


I put on extra strength deodorant so I wouldn't perspire


Nervous like I'm walking blindfolded on a circus high wire


Between God and "I" not sure what would transpire


I was "thirsty" for change like a vampire


A smile that was probably my best attire


Now of me just what would God require


"Our" meeting left a lot to desire


He told me some things that would certainly inspire


Friday 9:23 pm


The time had come for me to alleviate


With my past, I no longer wanted to negotiate


From the school of hard knocks I evaluate


The "past" keeps chasing me so, I must abbreviate


A take home test so I can graduate


God is the "One" who will officiate


Would I do what "He" said, I must demonstrate


Now I do not want to insinuate


Those things I've done I'll deviate


Sometimes mitigating circumstances extenuate


The idea of settling the score I infatuate


The last steps to total "freedom" I initiate


Ending the terror from the velvet vest associate


Saturday 8:48 am


God and I are speaking now, I found myself back in church


I laid on the altar and sacrificed my life and hurts


I didn't miss a beat. I turned right to the verse


Even had an "above your tithes" offering in my purse


Hadn't seen a sanctuary since Ted was in that hearse


Testimony service ran over 30 minutes, but I did not curse


I told the Lord I was sorry for all it's worth


When I got up from the altar, I no longer felt like dirt


I decided to iron my past like a wrinkled shirt


When the pimp came for me I watched "his "blood spurt


This time it wasn't "her" a cop got to him first


My chances of getting into heaven the bubble just burst


Sunday 9:21pm


It's not "me" it's the pills


Having AIDS has certainly made "me" ill


It's the "intimate" stranger that I don't want to feel


So much medicine my urine is teal


But I'm still cute, so I learn to deal


I gobble those meds like a 4th meal


Life and death are on a date and I'm the 3rd wheel


The "cop" rushed to my side instantly I could feel


Hate, "he" once had for me, broken by an impenetrable seal


On the way to my house, Jesus had changed "his" heart a clean kill


"We" both began to seek the Lord with a highly flammable zeal


Peace protected "us" like a sin retardant shield


I finally put my foot on Satan's neck and dug in my heel


Now I don't get the urge to run from God I kneel


Lord "fix" it was all I said. "He" said I AM God "Lynn" still


At last I found an "unconditional" love. But is "this" real


To Be Continued…

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 5

Monday 1:00 am


I'm fighting my way back to mentoring and those troubled teens

I sense the devil pitching another curve ball, but it is seen

So John 16:33 is the verse I read

I see Dr. Ted every couple of weeks

An hour "mental" makeover, reveals the beauty in me

Dr. Ted prescribed an extra sleeping pill for me….peace

Raised in the suburbs but my "street" smarts are keen

We discuss "some" of the things" she" does that are mean

I gave up smoking, got my tobacco stained teeth cleaned

Addicted to "His' eyes. I may have to be weaned

Call my beautician, make an appointment to extend & color my weave

All of a sudden Dr. Ted makes house calls on my street

The "voices", are silenced by the meds, the killings have ceased

But "she" creeps up every now and again demanding release

Kidnapped by Dr. Ted's looks, I hold his face hostage in my dreams

I long to "look" at Ted but I'm afraid "she'll” see

The bases fully loaded. I can't hit the "run" for my team

The FBI questioned me about a body they have no "solid" leads

Tuesday 7:32pm

"He" treats me like a queen always paying

I vow to remain a "lady" in waiting

The shame of once being a whore fading

"He" likes to take me skating

"Jess" …the earlier version of me not breaking

A comatose heart is waking

Look at the time it's taking

For a "new" batch of love that's baking

Being open to love scares me that's all I'm saying

This time it is not a role I'm playing

With my "John's" I was always faking

With "him" a love built on friendship is what we're making

My ring, the jeweler is plating

A "timeless" sign that "he'll" be staying

Our love "session" ends and I'm aching

Dr. Ted and I are dating

Again….God sent me…A King

Those jealous nurses who’d had so much wit, are hating

Wednesday 10:19am

Satan ordered the hit. "He" hired a good shot

Afraid to kill Ted no "he's not

A "stealth" detective in our attic loading bullets on a cot

"He’s” very secure with the surveillance he got

Poking around for information, somehow got botched

A high stakes game of "connect" the deadly dots

Led Ted to a coroner's parking lot

Unlucky 7 7 7 in a casino slot

21 bullets X marks the spot

Making sure Ted was dead the "killer" watched

I've accepted burying my loved one's as "my" lot

But I'm still cute with another life insurance check on my notch

In Thursday's police blotter Ted's name was at the top

The "smoking" gun is still hot

The "pig" that fried Ted's bacon is a dirty cop

I bought me a nickel bag of pot

What do you have to say to me now God

Thursday 3:41pm

Forced to get out of bed on this day

I'm assigned a Victim's Advocate. Her name is Kay

Death was the price for Ted's life, and somebody needed to pay

I'm so angry at God. I've forgotten how to pray

If the "Almighty" knocks on my door, I'm not responsible for what I say

He commands that I be "still" while a "busy" killer waits

Death keeps asking me out, so why shouldn't we date

May the invitations to my funeral fall where they may

One more tragic loss, a one way ticket destination grave

Misery makes my "soul" dirty, I fired my "spiritual " maid

You’re so quiet God? Because you have nothing to say

When the Grim Reaper sends for me, I'll be wide awake

Thanks for nothing God! I'll move mountain my own way

I feel "her" making a comeback I'm holding "her" at bay

The weapons formed against me have prospered any way

Friday 4:01pm

The answer to the question why

My past made the sky the limit & the limit the sky

God doesn't really care about the tears in my eye

He sits in heaven doing nothing, watching me cry

He promised things would be different if I gave Him my life

It's His abandonment keeping me company at night

I thought God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit & I were tight

I don't share His vision. I don't see His light

Darkness I clearly see. It's the "light" making me blind

Gospel truths are mixed with "worldly" lies

The "world" gets their fair share, God holds on to mine

My spirit is decomposing in a crawl space concealed by caustic lime

Hungry like the wolf I took a few bites

My T-Cell count was abnormal. Are "we" going to die

Never getting a break ever in life is my plight

I feel like an unaccompanied "soul" with no angels in sight

Can AZT preserve me……the doctors think it might

Saturday 12:27 pm

Killing is the "stimulant" that made "her" high

"He" was "sweet" as pie

About to be divided by himself, like a number that's prime

The "one" that cut 'her" off at the traffic light

The "fag" called her "fish" she called the "fag" fried

The only reasons "she" could give for killing this "sweet" guy

Like Keisha in New Jack City" rock a bye

'She" measured once and cut twice

Not enough like 2 packs of soy sauce surrounded by mounds of rice

One more wound to get the "kill" just right

So she "dotted" his eye

The "sugar" in his tank dissolved like ice

He sang like a Soprano in the key of dead when he died

Branded "D" for deceased, "She" tanned his hide

Lynn is too scared, so "I" handle her fights

That "fairy" rests for all eternity a man-purse by his side

"She" had snuffed out a "3rd" life

Lynn get a clue…in "her" diary, "she" writes

A, D, S Guess "who" is the missing I

Health is God's "losing" gift, AIDS is my "winning" prize

Sunday 3:15am

Hiding out in an abandoned shack

Scurrying really fast

$4.25 per gallon mileage eat up "his" gas

"He" scampers like a rat

A computer scientist with a license to hack

Gave "him" the information he lacked

Whenever "he" meets up with "her", 1 "icy" hello void of tact

With the devil's All-Star line-up, "he" made a pact

Missing more than a 'few" free throws like Shaq

Armed with a rental car and a map

"Lynn" wasn't hard to track

Look for the Samoan "trick" with extensions colored black

Hell bent with one fact

A whore & a pimp, "his" baby was whacked

"He" shot "someone" in a velvet vest….right in the back

Now you tell me? "Who" is the Mack

"He’s” a dirty "cop". The case closes from evidence lack

Sewn over "his" right breast pocket, a Pro-Life patch

A Government issued M-16 in the hands of a quack

An honorably discharged Marine, hoorah ready to kick some ass

Semper Fi …the "jarhead" is home from Iraq

To Be Continued....

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 4

Monday 3:37am



Gun in my face, what to do now


Charm won't work here so I begin to pout


"She" said… kill the enemy or slow him down


I'm in my sheer nightgown and a clown's in my house


He snarled “don't move” “ don't open” your mouth


From the way "he" moved, I could tell he had gout


I looked for a weapon, none was found


He handed me my journal and said write this down


Eyes pierced through me with a beguiling frown


I wondered what "he" was going to do now


He secured my wrists and threw me on the couch


I still needed a weapon. I glanced around


Before he took his "Johnson" out


A hanker chief drenched in chloroform covered my mouth


After this, there was no sound


Till this day, no suspects match the description of a rapist clown


The woman that whispered to me? Who made those sounds


Tuesday 9:28am


When I heard the alarm clock, I hit snooze


With all that happened, I found solace in booze


My body had healed but my soul was bruised


Kate called. She suggested a cruise


She learned of my brutal rape on the 6:00 news


Lead story: A former whore singing the blues


I headed to Jamaica with other "desperate" women to schmooze


All of the men looked expendable, only one will lose


"She" rummaged around looking for one to choose


"She" fancied "him" weak, just someone to use


Blood tainted with hate boiled, and started to ooze


Spotted the "one" worth talking to


Little did "we" know, it was "him", and he had spotted "us" too


Wednesday 8:05pm


Somehow, I thought I knew his face


Features so familiar yet hard to trace


With fruity alcoholic beverages, he and I make our way


To a secluded beach we reclined on a chaise


He slipped a "roofie" in my drink that day


Sinister plans designed to make me pay


Revenge is sweet, "he" repeated the phrase


When I came to, I was amused and a little bit dazed


Someone jolted me from my "date-rape" haze


My eyes grew listless but "hers" appeared glazed


There was another "side" to me and "she" looked crazed


"She" took over and I was amazed


She gnarled at God, You and Lynn were a fleeting phase


A killer doesn't have much time to praise


With gasoline and matches she set the clown ablaze


"She" crept back into Lynn's mind like a memory that fades


Thursday 3:39pm


He moved like an ancient robot


Applying Aveeno SP 45 sun block


I protected my Samoan skin from sunspots


Human ashtrays we smoked a lot


The segregated sex I wanted to boycott


I thought I hit the jackpot


Walked like he was constipated…not hot


After all that "mackin" and what not


He never found the right spot


I filtered grainy snapshots


Of SVU showing me mug shots


He leered at me his eyes were bloodshot


A "familiar" voice within earshot


But pinning the tail on the donkey he could not


Memories "she" started to unblock


Trepidation was the feeling Lynn begot


"She" killed Charles with a big rock


And stuffed him in a lock box


Buried him in a good spot


8am 11:20pm


The vegetables steamed the entrée: roast


He wore expensive trousers and a embroidered cloak


To your demise "she" silently toasts


I'm gonna enjoy killing this English bloke


"She" tied his freckled hands with rope


Ironically, she granted "him" one final grope


"She" lifted the knife for the final blow


Edward died suddenly of a stroke


Facing water on a grassy slope


I nudged him slowly, and watched "him" go


With lightening speed, I caught the last ferry boat


Back in my hotel, I immersed in a tub with soap


Grey Goose, Newport's and my hand elope


Would "she" stop after 2 murders…..nope


Sweet revenge replaced "her" hope


And God became her cruelest joke


Was it reality or was it dope


Who is it that washes away sexual sins? I'll contact the Pope


Saturday 1:54pm


Lynn's journal makes for an interesting read


Fate had been so unfair to "her" and me


Lynn started to become undone, unable to speak


When "I" take over, I'll set "Lynn free


Lynn started to resemble a peach


Soft and fuzzy with nectar so sweet


An unwilling student I'm obliged to teach


Lynn's God still hung onto her like a leech


"She" shouted at God, Lynn will never see


“She" wrote what 'she" wanted Lynn's life to be


We're so cute and I do mean we


"She" started filling in pages in this former whore's diary


Sunday 7:13pm


In the Green Haven "facility", I was chained to a bed


Mentoring on hold until I get some rest


With any warning, lights would burn out in my head


200mg of Lithium 2 x a day the doctor said


Allowed out of my restraints only to be fed


Schizo-Affective Disorder on my progress notes scribbled Dr. Ted


A menacing "voice" silenced only when I take my meds


Men dressed in black with badges ….feds


"Someone" had surfaced in a velvet vest


The body “appeared” to be dead


To Be Continued…



The Diary of A Former Whore PT 3

Monday 11:15 pm


Like a drum, everything loud is hollow inside

It's been this way since Jess died

I no longer count the tears I cried

Letters with no return address, are being left outside

Dread washes over me like a deadly tide

A man in a dark sedan leaves them, a neighbor spied

I convinced myself nobody is after me... I lied

The past is a sneaky bastard open your eyes wide

Where did Jess put the gun I chide

Anger is my new roommate so I let her abide

I sleep with a .44 Magnum by my side

"Come and get me muthafucka" you can't hide

I'll smoke your ass, and watch you die

Unbeknownst to me, a dark sedan, was parked nearby

With "his" telescopic lens watching the chicken I fried

Tuesday 3:54am

An anonymous letter outside my front door

Reminding me again I'm just a whore

It read, I know your real name it's not Lynn Moore

One day soon I'll even the score

Seriously Lord, I can't handle no more

What the hell, was I put here for

I prayed from 12 midnight to the am of 4

Seeking the Lord's face like never before

I get off my knees and I pace the floor

I hope God heard me because my knees were sore

Sweat dripped like blood on the clothes I wore

Wednesday 10:16am

I'm still crying myself to sleep

The mire clay is waist deep

Shoulders weighed down cemented my feet

I don't feel so cute now. I feel weak

Mourning my husband I don't want to eat

The baby I carry will never get to meet

The man who made singleness we

Somebody keeps sending anonymous letters to me

Sitting in eerie silence and hear the floorboards creak

Am I being stalked by a creep

Opened another letter it read REVENGE IS SWEET

Thursday 5:31pm

God please don't expect me to smile

I gave You a chance and Satan took a mile

Deep depression leads to exile

Memories of Jess will keep me there awhile

I'm so angry I'm spewing bile

Still got life insurance papers to file

Warm blood dripped on the bathroom floor tile

Flowing steadily like the Egyptian Nile

Please don't let me lose "our" child

Terry cloth towels grew into a crimson pile

Jess had picked a baby name. He decided on Kyle

Friday 4:18am

I keep mentoring to the girls. Maybe I've found my niche

Trials make no appointments visiting the poor, middle and rich

My Power point presentation went off without a hitch

My opening theme: Life's A Bitch

But halfway through, I start to feel sick

The doctor with the suspended license grabbed her medical kit

It would be the last time I felt my baby kick

Fully dilated, he came quick

Kyle was delivered stillborn. I had a fit

Nurses tried to amuse me with wit

My mother flew in. She still likes to knit

In the waiting room nearby, patiently "he" sits

Lord, I can't take no more of this shit

Cigarette in hand but it's not lit

That oxygen tank will blow if I flick my bic

The mystery man is on the toilet. He'll be back in a bit

I wanted to yank the tubes out, light up and split

Saturday 2:25pm

This hospital bill will put me in debt

Is it voodoo or a witch's hex

My body is yearning but I haven't had sex

Money on the table death places a bet

I could really use that life insurance check

Who is haunting me? I'm still vexed

The letter read YOU ARE NEXT

Black roses delivered by telegram I sweat

Who it could be? I still don't get


I push the thoughts away and clutch my chest


Flashbacks of a pimp in a velvet vest


I check my phone and there's a text


The Unknown sender words: REMEMBER ME YET


A male nurse tended to me taut muscles he flexed


Men are the reason my life is a wreck


Haven't met one yet who compares to Jess


Anxiety makes me horny, and I could care less


At some point a river has to crest


Sunday 3:40am


No letters lately, things have certainly calmed down


My eyes were jaundiced and my urine was brown


My gallbladder burst. The doctor on suspension, took it out


But I'm still cute so I painted the town


Parked at the bar, and ordered another round


Tired of mourning I'm ready to fool around


Completely hung over but it was a recognizable sound


Knock, knock, knock on my door he pounds


I opened the door in a sheer nightgown


It's 2am there "he" stood dressed as a clown


The telegram read YOU'RE GOING DOWN


To Be Continued…

The Diary of A Former Whore PT 2


Monday 8:35 am


Remember me, I'm Lynn Moore

A recovering addict and a former whore

Well I've calmed down and I'm writing more

I'm watching an old movie with Zsa Zsa Gabor

Jess usually gets home a little after 4

I always meet him naked at the front door

Passion erupted at each other clothes we tore

I only give Jess what he came home for

When we make love, it's hardly a bore

His touch is gentle, nothing like the "Johns" before

He makes a trail of kisses to my inner core

He works all day and I do the chores

I drink the love. He likes to pour

Tuesday 10:45 pm

Since I left the "business", things are great

Nobody could've told me that "tricking" wasn't my fate

Jess and I relocated to a brand new state

We flew home. My parents met us at the gate

They forked over the cash first-class rates

Jess really loves me, he's the perfect mate

We met some new friends one of them is Kate

She met this loser we call him Nate

They had unprotected sex, now she's late

Kate throws up everything she ate

Raising a kid will be a lot on her plate

Boy? or a Girl? We'll have to wait

Nate buys his drugs from a guy named Tate

Tate sells crack on my street under a crate

But Jess proposed and we set a date

We still play chess, but now we skate

I wear short shorts, on really hot days

I'm still cute so you know they hate

Girls cast themselves at Jess like fishing bait

Jess doesn't even look their way

I won't lose my man, not today

Just around the corner is my very worst day

Death comes for all of us either way

Wednesday 4:20pm

Now Jess and I were doing fine

On our wedding day we sipped on cheap wine

Walking the straight & narrow kept us in line

I cook a lot of chicken using Thyme

Marriage seemed to make us shine

But just like with the passage of time

Our marriage started to decline

Jess began to whine

I started losing my mind

We fought all the time

I wish I had a dime

For all the words we spoke that were unkind

Remember the pimp? He's doing time

He's up for parole in five

His lawyer is on the grind

Loopholes in the law are easy to find

Time is starting to wind

The trouble, I thought we could ride

I guess our vows weren't the ties that bind

Our ignorance is sublime

Thursday 9:48pm

Like day old bread our marriage is stale

Poisoned like it stepped on a rusty nail

We had moved to Illinois to fix what failed

I thought sex was love, and that love was for sale

Jess I love you, can't you tell

If this gets worse, I just might bail

Tears on the pillow that acts as a pail

Separation agreement drawn up and in the mail

Saying I don't love him would be a tale

My Mother didn't teach me how to keep a good male

Can't we get past this marital hell

It's you I love. It was for you I fell

Jess grew distant and closed his shell

My soft cries turned into a loud wail

Damn, just what is that awful smell

Smells like a divorce my worst fears yell

And my former pimp has gotten out of jail

This news....does not sit with me well

Friday 6:48pm

Jess hooked up with some college hockey ref

He introduces him to "Crystal" meth

And dates a "big boned" stripper named Beth

She cheats on him with a dude named Seth

As quiet as it's kept

He's sleeping with a black guy named Jeff

Who owns "Amari's" he's a chef

"Crystal" was the last kiss of death

For now, I smell "her" everyday on Jess's breath

That bitch destroyed everything we had left

Saturday 7:13pm

Jess obediently followed his flesh

He kept "Crystal" hidden in his desk

He seemed to love her best

He started to love me less

Our marriage was a mess

Sometimes I listen to John Tesh

Love & drugs don't mesh

I'm thinking of heading West

I'll wish Jess the best

Now who is sending this test

It's the enemy at his best

But God promised me rest

Jess started messing around with Beth

But she's still sleeping with Seth

Now they're all hooked on "meth"

A fire in the drug lab caused their deaths

Now I have nothing left

Everything died with Jess

The pimp is the older brother of Jeff

I haven't had a decent night's rest

I'm smoking cigarettes

Sunday 5:40pm

Unsure as to where things went wrong

Jess started staying away too long

His demeanor changed so did his tone

Then he just stopped coming home

I knew then it wouldn't be too long

It's been weeks since the sun has shone

I scream, damn Jess, my baby, is gone

I've learned to manage on my own

A life worth living is not to be lived alone

I've picked up a few pieces and tried to move on

Guess who's in town and ringing my phone

To Be Continued……..

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Amber Alert: Missing Famly



Families all around the world will loiter around kitchen tables in a few weeks chugging eggnog and sugar cookies. If your family is anything like mine, hopefully that eggnog will be spiked. Does the drama plaguing your family remind you of a big white elephant standing in the room that everyone pretends they don’t see? Come on don’t deny the tension that fills the room when your wealthy Aunt Martha drops by with her spoiled brats in tow making anyone not in her tax bracket feel cheap. Grandma Mary’s stuffing is heavenly, but she detests Aunt Jan’s husband because she thinks Uncle Bob is a bum. Please don’t act like the family isn’t gossiping about Kelly who just delivered her 5th baby out of wedlock. Kelly always knows where the party is but can’t remember to buy a box of condoms. Oh and Cousin Mike who will sleep with any woman with a pulse, will probably saunter in with his latest scantily clad fling. The whole family knows Diane doesn’t have anything to do with her own children but is forever acting like that mom on the Sunny Delight commercials. And who can forget Cousin Pat the crack head giving the annual “I’m Getting Myself Together” speech right before he gives your purse the 10 finger discount.
I don’t care as much for the holidays anymore. I guess the novelty wore off when I discovered Santa Claus drove a Buick and worked at a chemical plant. Maybe it’s because my family is and has been estranged for many years. Oh we put on good front pretending we’re a close knit group but there is definitely some disconnect. I humbly submit for your consideration that Amber Alerts be issued for missing families. What a novel idea huh? What does a happy family look like? Can you spot a knock off? It’s simple you compare the knock off to the original. It’s been years though since I saw my family happy. I’ll need viable clues if I am to aid law enforcement in finding them. In the place of my relatives are these cheap imitations trying to pass themselves off as the real thing? It’s only Thursday if you happen to find yourself alone this Thanksgiving huh? Amber Alerts should be issued right in time for the holidays so no family member has to be. I hope your family this Holiday Season is found safe.

Monday, November 10, 2008

My Truth and Nothing But My Truth


I am no different than the spin doctor who turns fiction into fact for a living. The only difference is between us, I don’t receive a paycheck. Show me a story that hasn’t been polished and doubt I’d even read it. I bring this up because of something that happened to me last week. I don’t know if I’d be particularly liked if my thoughts were made public. My trusted journal is the one constant in my life. I consider my journal my friend. I can be brutally honest never having to worry about how I come across. The paper I write on welcomes my most private thoughts. Leather bound keeping all my thoughts safe and sound. Like Ragu, it’s in there. I’m not afraid of being candid in my journal. My journal doesn’t judge only accepts. If only people could be like this no matter what you expressed huh?
Last week I admitted to my psychiatrist I sometimes withhold what I really feel from him. When he asked me why, I stated it was a fear of how he would see me. This is really funny because this man is trained specifically to deal with emotional issues. Life can be a real bitch. If I told my doctor what really goes through my mind, he’d probably secure me with 4 point restraints and admit me on the spot. So the other day I finally admit the truth and what does he do? He took out his trusted pad and wrote me a script for a new anti-depressant and increased the dosage on one I was previously taking. Doesn’t that beat all? I thought this was too funny not to share. The one time I decide to be honest with him because of what I thought would happen, happened.
Are you always honest or do you find yourself holding back? If the chicken really tastes like wood do you hope a brood of termites lurk nearby? A gorgeous woman probably a perfect size 6, struts past you with toilet tissue stuck to the bottom of her shoe, do you tell her? Your lover leaves much to be desired even with the latest penile enhancement drug. Do you lay there and fake an orgasm or secretly wish you could close the deal on the leftover Moo Shoo pork in the fridge? The truth can hurt. The truth can set you free. The truth can even cause the shrink to increase your medication. I don’t think any of us are capable of being 100% honest. With that said, what web are you spinning in that sadistic mind of yours?

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Jock "EYE" ing For Position



Jock EYE ing For Position

Get in line

And hurry this time

A fine brutha ya'll

And he is here on display


Hang up your cell phones

Smear on your lip gloss

Push up that push up bra

Get your best strut on

Swing that bone straight weave

All so that he can look at cha!


Yeah I noticed you too

While in the back of this club

I'm the plain one watchin all the "hot" chicks purses

See I wanna get in line

But I just aint that fine

So under my "plain" girl breath

I start (girl from the around the way) cursin


We all hope to be chose

The prize at the end of a long hard day

Each of us secretly saying, if I can land this brutha

And all his sumthin, sumthin

Hell, I can give up my own rat race


But oh Brutha Brutha

Why would I ever lose my place

And leave this race

When I want you just as bad as she

The sad news is

I'm buried under fake designer purses

Drowing in pleather knock offs

And you'll never get the chance to see me


Maybe there's one thing I possess

That the chick in line ahead of me just don't got

But the jeans get tighter, the breasts get larger

Each woman ahead of me is a real "pro"

And that's why I keep losing my spot


Every woman in this club

Thinks she's the only one who's "hot"

I'm probably the only one here....way way in the back

Who actually thinks I'm NOT!


Can you look this way

Toward the big purse pile

Yeah....It's me...all the way in the back

Do you see me?

The average looking girl

Yeah the plain girl

Hidden by the fake purse stack


Brutha, brutha do you ever get bored

She's sweet, only to get your ATM card

Plotting to make you thier lastest score

But I loved you on a day

When in pain, you cried loudly in the rain

I'm standing in this line

But only for your heart

I was expressly created by God for you

So why are you in this club on a mission?

The woman you're dancing with, is a over-priced call girl

She'll want to be paid if you cast her after an audition


Hmm ..I think I'll get out of line

Cause this aint the place or the time

Don't want to win you like this or this way

I loved you, long before you walked in here

I want you to come findeth me

Findeth me….and change my last name


Yeah no more standing in lines

No clubs with strong drinks and dark sultry lights

A single file line

With only ME in it

Single Brutha No Vacancy

…Filled …Position…WIFE!!!!

To All The BOYZ I've Loved Before


To All The Boyz I 've Loved Before

Boyz, I'm taking this time to tell you that I am sorry

Most of you were "boyz" only disguised as men

Pretending, when all you wanted was me on my back

Some of you thought you chose me, but many times it was I who chose you

You stroked my fire and then blew ashes as you got up and left

I let you, low self esteem said to do so

You laid with me for a quick release

I want you to know

All of you boyz, that you shot blanks

The very seed you sowed into me

Spilled into an smelly dumping ground stenched with lust

Just a vile wasteland with all the others

This is the place where love built on pretense goes to die

You never really touched my soul

You only pierced my needy sinful flesh

Like the twin towers

What I felt for each of you has fallen to ground zero

Though you touched me you never really "touched" me

You bragged about me

You added my name to your notches

Now I've done some mathematics

I've subtracted all of you

And added the ONE"

The power I gave you to talk me out of my panties

Is vetoed by a resounding loud and proud scream of NO

Boyz you thought it was only you who had game

Or don't you know

Women are skilled at choosing too

I lost count until I decided to say NO

I lied to you too

I gave in sometimes for need, for cash, pampers, and gas

Love? Never!

Love? I never met her when I slept with you

Lust yeah I know her all too well

She introduced me to you

She took your 2 am service calls

She even slept on your wife's side of the bed

Sorry boyz

You thought only men had game

I dribbled, traveled, and ran all the bases

Like an actress craving an Oscar I played whatever the role required

But now I've fouled out of the flesh game

I've finally fallen for ONE who gets me

I'm amazed that I can still stand after I let all of you beat my body repeatedly with sex, lies, and videotape

Boyz you no longer quench my fires

With just your unsatisfying three minute desires

Five years celibate because of HIS love

The ONE who erased all of you from my spirit

Is the ONE now who gets all my sweet love!

His life started so humbly

It ended when He was nailed to a cross

His words tell me I'm a treasure

Not ashes, easily stumped or another body for a man to toss

He has changed my life, not with a mean word or a fist

Everyday I run straight to His arms

Jesus, the BOY who became my MAN, I simply can't resist