ash trays (poem) by Steve Patterson on AuthorsDen

Using the analogy of a storm, Storms of Life encourages women to strengthen their faith as they experience difficulties and crises...

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ash trays by Steve Patterson Thursday, July 17, 2003 Share Print Save Become a Fan ash tray laying on my bed 3 cigarette butts yeah that's me
colors around my printer reds, green, blues and blacks they take me back the love i had makes me sad makes me remember what i had old cigarette butts old colors there by the printer the words i could say the words that went away long nights sad songs colors were wrong sittin' there by the toilet i run out of verse of course there's still the ash tray there's still the colors in my heart guess that's just a part of sittin' on the toilet ain't that the shits remembering the memories when they hit don't get to flush it all away some memories all ways stay toilet paper can't wipe it away those memories always stay

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Reviewed by Kay P Devenish	7/18/2003

Excellent analogy,I love it! Ash trays even when wiped clean still smell like the cigerette,yukky...still reminding of that smoke and the bad taste. I count my memories,even the bad ones(especially the bad) as good measuring sticks they help me to know what to do and what not to do. Memories are good but I do admit some I have deliberately buried ssssoooooo deep and I will NEVER dig them up again,I don't think it is good to look at painful stuff...if it hurts too much ....bury it deep, stick a cross on it,write its name('old crap' is good name for my bad memories) then look forward to sunny happy things. Thanks for your beaut poetry. A big sisterly hug to you from your pal in Australia Kay.




Reviewed by ♥ Kari Hirshey ♥ (Reader)	7/17/2003

haha, wonderful and creative write! :) Cheers, ~Kari~




Reviewed by Carolyn Red Bear (The Bear Paw)	7/17/2003

memories, memories... the only thing we can take with us.... thank you for sharing... In Spirit, Bear




Reviewed by Sara Coslett	7/17/2003

Memories are collectibles. Collectibles are obsessions disguised as hobbies. Sorry I am in a really bad funk tonight. Your poem as always makes me reflect on my own crappy life. That is the mark of a true poet. YOU!




Reviewed by Marlene Dawn	7/17/2003

haha...This is great! Marlene