Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Mar.28, 2010
Nine beating hearts, 18 hands, 90 toes, hungry to be heard, held, tickled
All at once, in unison
Reaching, grabbing, hitting, kicking, pulling, pinching, screaming for affirmation
Intense, stiff competition to confirm love, life, longing
Rivalry rears its ugly head
Sibling love
Strong, with strings attached,
tied
Tightly with bruised bonds,
bombing
set on mass destruction
Brutalized, black and blue bandaids
Beaten, Bitter hurt
HURT, HURT, HURT, HURT, HURT, HURT, HURT HURT
Painful cries
of kinship
family
Brothers and Sisters
Sandbox play, building castles in backyard boxing ring
Punching bag
Break through, breaking arms
Belting blows
With wind
knocked out
Breath
Flattened
Fighter remains
with worn out love handles
Here is my “Outlook” when initiating or accepting a “Meeting Request” in the corporate world.
Your number one objective when leading/participating in a business meeting – whether you are joining in person or via online – is to set a tone of mutual respect across all group members.
Set that goal as the top priority among all meeting attendees and watch what amazing accomplishments will result from the session.
People can move mountains.
Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Mar.19, 2010
Feeling fear
under thin skin
through fatty tissue and mindful muscle
that holds memory unconscious, captive
with stiff hip sockets
and wobbly knees, that crack when stepping softly
on grinding unbrushed teeth,
clenched lockjaw.
Coursing veins open round the clock for CBC samples
A pulse — steady, slow beat — spirals up the down spinal column,
leaking synovial fluid
to lubricate nervous system and ward off artery occlusion
Pinched nerves at the core plum line, centered
With heat generator set at 98.8 fahrenheit.
Hot flash
Hormonal fueled flow, monthly non-stop menopausal cramps
Rushing to itch unscratched surface
Virginity intact, deflowerd
Resulting in full flush
Rosy, red cheeks
Rash
Shy smile
and cute dimples.
Filed Under:
Books by Tess Press
Mar.08, 2010
There’s Still Time, published by Tess Press. Copyright 2009. All rights reserved.
There’s Still Time
Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Mar.06, 2010
Churning, choppy
Adrift in dark, deep riptides
of graying strands
Tangled, twisted strings of seaweed
Tightly taut
Trimmed to eroding hairline
Rough undertow
Parted at center, with 52 split ends
A tidal wave of braided rope
Rushing ringlets
Buoyed and knotted by anchored pearls
Storm surge
a curly kinky raging tide
of fizzling, frantic frizz
Teased coarse tints
Form floating tufts
of bleached streaked faded color
Rippled whipped foam
Combing the salt-and-pepper surf
with furious tall crests, that crash
a hairy ebb and flow, brushing
sandy pink sloping shoulders
Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Mar.01, 2010
Nothing
Blank
No place, nobody
A tiny dot
That waits
to talk
Touch
Breathe
Cry, Laugh, Argue View Full Article »
Left Milwaukee in May — that was nine months ago.
“Nine whole months and you still don’t know what you’re doing?”
Time goes by so fast. I shouldn’t be so time-conscious.
People tell me I have all the time in the world.
Keep thinking about Milwaukee. I loved that city. There is something very special about it. Even the smell was distinct.
The breweries — that’s what it was! Everything smelled like beer.
In the four years that I lived there I never did develop a taste for beer.
In Milwaukee I had the best of both worlds. It’s a large enough city that things happened there, yet it’s small enough that it didn’t overwhelm me as New York City seems to do.
I left Milwaukee the same way I arrived — scared to death.
The flight home was miserable. I kept looking out the window hoping the plane would crash.
It didn’t.
I landed in Newark — safe — I don’t know how sound.
So here I am — 22 — and living in New Jersey.
Here I am — 22 — and ready to begin my life.
What have I been doing for the past 21 years if this is the beginning?
Better to call it a new beginning.
Beginnings are always hard — so I’ve been told, and I guess
beginning to realize.
“The decisions you make now are going to affect you for the rest of your life.”
God, they make you so afraid it’s getting hard for me to decide what to eat for lunch.
“What about marriage?”
Marriage scares the hell out of me.
“Then what about a career?”
A career scares the hell out of me.
“Well you better hurry up and decide.”
I thought I had all the time in the world.
Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Feb.23, 2010
A snowy, bitter cold morning
standing alone
waiting for the commuter train
headed for work
to New York City
A stranger, a woman, a blonde
smiles beautifully and says
Let’s partner to stay warm, while
waiting for the commuter train
eastward bound
to New York City
Together we find refuge
in the warmth of her car
A white Cadillac, a metal igloo
me on the ready
to run and catch a ride for two
waiting for the commuter train,
the Bergen Mainline
to New York City
Rail rattles, whistle blows
iron horse
roars into the station stop
All aboard!
I run, she laughs trailing close behind
The link is made
a Loving, Everlasting Connection
it happened, while
waiting for the commuter train
traveling across the Hudson
to New York City
Filed Under:
Poetry by Tess Press
Jan.04, 2010
Three make-shift walls
Open for peer-to-peer probes
With pushpin-pricked panels, sporting grey canvass
Adorned with revealing to-do post-its
Enter smart workspace
with centralized-laptop worship services held daily
anointed by streaming calendar alerts and delayed instant messages View Full Article »
