Poetry from Linda Allen



The way of people is to forget

to reject tomatoes with a spot

to scan away all deficiencies

they move quickly

to throw everything out

that does not seem perfect to them

The way of people is to forget

to see past the color of one’s skin

to see what is underneath

they move quickly

to throw out names and say things

that don’t need to be said, heard, or felt

The way of people is to forget

to remember everyone has flaws and is not perfect

to NOT judge, like the good book says

they move quickly

to pass judgments on others and not see

that all people are deficient in someway

The way of the people is to forget

we are all here together just trying to survive

we are all unique

we are all perfect in our own way

we move far too quickly through life

that we forget to live united

Useless Nonsense

I have often asked myself

about things I don’t know

I see the fork in the road

and honestly feel I took the wrong road

I have been put in a crucible place

Having a fracas with myself about a step I never stepped

I have confounding thoughts of hope and everlasting love

I hear the phrase

La vita e bella (life is beautiful)”

but I am afraid it is nothing more than

a honeyfuggle “they” want me to believe

I see the moon and I believe it

has to be more than paranormal

I exhaust myself at

all the thoughts

that prevent me from sleep

It is like an eternal fire I have in me

The passion of a warrior

never to sleep

I breathe deep, in hopes it will

breathe me to life

or at least back to life

sometime my life seems –


or as if I was denied the grace

to succeed most days

Jesus, grant me the sophistication

and grace to believe

that things aren’t always what they seem

As the weather gets colder I see

flaming marshmallows, bon fires, and togetherness

I feel awkward,

socially awkward

I just don’t fit in with people

The sea

is in my mind,

The ocean,

and other things I may never see or do

I have dreams too big for this small town,

feelings of being trapped

and stuck

here in this small town prison


I have daydreams of a life

not well wasted

a life worthy of my

heart and soul’s feelings

I hear an

acorn woodpecker

gathering acorns


peck, peck, pecking

outside my bedroom window

in the tree

peck, peck, pecking

Is it any wonder I cannot sleep

with all this

useless, nonsense on my mind

24/7 365

Enemy Within

Perfection is our own worst enemy

We strive for perfection

We need the perfect everything

The perfect life

The perfect clothes

The perfect body

The perfect spouse

The perfect image

Perfection is our own worst enemy

Perfection leaves no room for imperfection

Perfection there is no such thing

I know I am not the only one

I know we are all different

I know we are all unique

Perfection, what is perfection?

Perfection is all humankind’s enemy

Perfection creates nothing

The perfect life

is the life you create for yourself

The perfect clothes

are what make you feel comfortable in your own skin

The perfect spouse

is the person that is your equal no matter if they may be the same sex as you

The perfect image

is the image you see in the mirror, you are your own perfect image

Perfection is our own worst enemy

Perfection only has power if you give it power over you

Perfection we don’t need it, we are our own kind of perfect