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Terri Guillemets
Archives — 1994




This is the archive of my publicly published writing from 1994 — the good, the bad, the active and the retired.  Some entries were originally untitled with a title added later, and some were first published under other pen names.  —tg, 2023

SEE  ALSO 2024,  2023,  2022,  2021,  2020,  2019,  2018,  2017,  2016,  2015,  2014,  2013,  2012,  2011,  2010,  2009,  2008,  2007,  2006,  2005,  2004,  2003,  2002,  2001,  2000,  1999,  1998,  1997,  1996,  1995,  YOU  ARE  HERE,  1993,  1992,  1991,  1990,  1980s,  ARCHIVES  HOMEPAGE







Life:  my own little Pyrrhic victory.


      TITLE:  Plundered
      DATE:  1994 Jan 15







Music echoes rhythms of the universe
Music is audible time
Music is past meets present
Our heartbeats are the drums of life
We dance to life, not music


      TITLE:  Walking…hearing
      DATE:  1994 Jan 18
      NOTES:  revised







Music is rhythm of the universe meets rhythm of self.


      TITLE:  Tuned
      DATE:  1994 Jan 18







the smell of ink is
intoxicating to me —
others may have wine
but I have poetry


      TITLE:  Inkdreaming
      DATE:  1994 Jan 22







Sliding down the banister of life is so much more fun than ambling down the steps.


      TITLE:  Wheee!
      DATE:  1994 Feb 8







Hope is betting on the future.


      DATE:  1994 Feb 12







Tea brings Time to a crawl, its frantic pace resuming on noticing our empty cups.


      TITLE:  Tea Time
      DATE:  1994 Feb 15







She kissed me, and my mouth wrote a poem of welcome to her lips.


      TITLE:  Did it?
      DATE:  1994 Feb 25
      NOTES:  a Ward Elliot Hour story







Oh, God. Heaven wasn't supposed to come this early. I was still among the living, and now more alive than ever.


      TITLE:  Did it?
      DATE:  1994 Feb 25
      NOTES:  a Ward Elliot Hour story







I started out running
then learned to walk,
now feel forced to crawl.
But there's still so much run in me.

I started out knowing all the answers,
really knowing,
but that was when my world was small.
Now knowing is harder.

The bright shining
only reflects back to myself,
my own light blinding me.
I can't see the world and it can't see me.


      TITLE:  Orion's Under the Clouds
      SOURCE:  journal poem
      DATE:  1994 Feb 26







There are two sides to every story. Even my own story. Probably every story I've ever told myself.


      TITLE:  Two steps forward, one stumble backward
      DATE:  1994 Feb 28







Birds are beautiful and amazing creatures, until you walk underneath one who had a big lunch.


      TITLE:  Above & below
      DATE:  1994 Mar 5







Lightning flashes her blinding passion,
Thunder booms his primal reply.


      TITLE:  Heat
      DATE:  1994 Mar 7







I could smell myself awake with that coffee.


      DATE:  1994 Mar 9







Hate less, live longer.


      TITLE:  Everyone, everywhere
      DATE:  1994 Apr 5







her head was cracked —
      not tragically, just poetically
it’s how the poems got in —
      and out


      TITLE:  Cracked
      DATE:  1994 Apr 9
      NOTES:  revised







I'm so in love, every time I look at you my soul gets dizzy.


      TITLE:  Meet–ing
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 Apr 10
      AGE:  twenty







Two people who have chemistry evolve quickly to biology.


      TITLE:  Sparks & sizzle
      DATE:  1994 Apr 15







Butterflies, bees
our wingèd, happy friends
Oh, to dance in the air
and float on the breeze...


      DATE:  1994 Apr 16







Poetry dyes our souls with a melody half ours and half the poet's.


      TITLE:  Reading Poetry
      DATE: 1994 Apr 21
      NOTES: revised







Our passion and kisses were stumbling, but stumbling in sync.


      TITLE:  Shaken, stirred
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 Apr 22







How many stanzas in the springtime breeze?
How plenty the raindrops?
As He doth please.
There is no meter and there is no rhyme,
Yet God's poems always read in perfect time.


      DATE:  1994 Apr 27







My scars are mostly on the inside.


      TITLE:  Pain downward
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 Apr 30







We write to remember our nows later.


      TITLE:  Paper doesn't forget
      DATE:  1994 May 3







Birds singing in the trees:  the happy sound of freedom.


      TITLE:  Cageless
      DATE:  1994 May 4
      NOTES:  revised







There is so much love in my life. And so much life in my love.


      TITLE:  To be & yet to be
      DATE:  1994 May 12







Chocolate and coffee are ground from beans of happiness.


      TITLE:  Holy mocha!
      DATE:  1994 May 17
      NOTES:  revised







You've knocked my existence askew,
and yet I'm straightaway in love with you!


      TITLE:  Quintessence
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 May 20







You and I are a deep well of love in the desert of life.


      DATE:  1994 May 23







If you hide things in your soul, don't forget about them. Okay?


      TITLE:  Relearn everything
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 May 25







My excess fat scares me — it's a ticking time bomb to my body.


      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 May 31
      AGE:  twenty
      BMI:  27.5
      STATUS:  worrywart







Read instead of watch tv?
Now there's a novel idea!


      DATE:  1994 Jun 11







I don't have much of a way
to reach the stars,
except through my pain...


      TITLE:  I miss you
      SOURCE:  journal poem
      DATE:  1994 Jun 11







life is a treasure map
and also the treasure


      TITLE:  X
      DATE:  1994 Jun 17
      NOTES:  revised







Guilt sticks like glue.


      DATE:  1994 Jun 26







Good music can make the difference between a mediocre workout and a slamdamfantastic workout!


      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 Jul 1







Your ghost of memories haunts me.


      TITLE:  Memory haunt
      DATE:  1994 Jul 7







I'm a coffee is half-full kind of girl.


      TITLE:  Down–mid–uptown
      DATE:  1994 Jul 16







Into each life some ants must crawl.


      DATE:  1994 Jul 29
      NOTES:  Apologies, Mr Longfellow.







poetry is combat—
soul verses world


      TITLE:  Soul verses
      DATE:  1994 Aug 1
      NOTES:  revised







Getting caught at all the red lights
And even at some of the green ones.
Yellow's confusing and makes me blue
Cuz I'm never sure just what to do
Full speed ahead or stop dead in my tracks.


      TITLE:  Black & White Life
      SOURCE:  journal poem
      DATE:  1994 Aug 3







Just little cracks here and there
How was I to know
Everything would come
Tumbling to the ground

Is it possible to rebuild
Using parts beyond repair
All may appear sound but
How long 'til the next collapse

Scattered as it has become
The ruins are still my home
A safe and cozy one
My roots too strong and deep

I look at the sky above
Study the stars and imagine
How I'd like to go explore
But so impossible to reach

If I shot for the stars
Would I ever get to one
Or fall back to the ground
With no ground there to catch me

And fall right through
To the core of the earth
That would swallow me
Into its emptiness

Stuck there forever
With nothing to do but
Languish, able to feel nothing
But emptiness in my own core

Or maybe I'll find a star
And want to stay
But then notice the view
Looking the other way

So high up in the sky
Light years away from the ruins
Which from such a distance
Seem the perfect place

Then I might jump off the star
Falling fast to the ground
Only to find on arriving
Someone has built on my land


      TITLE:  Ruins
      DATE:  1994 Aug 4







mint sky
chocolate chip stars


      DATE:  1994 Aug 5
      NOTES:  revised







I even shower with my pen, in case any ideas drip out of the waterhead.


      DATE:  1994 Aug 5







Driving a brand new car feels like riding around in an open billfold with dollars flapping by as they fly out the windows.


      TITLE:  What's new is already old
      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  1994 Aug 6
      NOTES:  revised







As far as the Moon is concerned, he is always full.


      DATE:  1994 Aug 18







I was so in the present moment the past was no longer part of me.


      TITLE:  Curveball curls
      DATE:  1994 Aug 30







True love is letting someone else eat from the carton of ice cream you keep hidden in the back of the freezer.


      DATE: 1994 Sep 3







Evolution:  one small step for man, one giant leap backward for mankind.


      DATE:  1994 Sep 10







After a girl is grown, her little brothers — now her protectors — seem like big brothers.


      TITLE:  Grown in heart & beyond
      DATE:  1994 Sep 24
      DEDICATED  TO:  Doug & Steven







The stars, like many other things, are only romantic from a distance.


      DATE:  1994 Sep 24







All other seasons in Phoenix are just hyphenated summers:  spring-summer, autumn-summer, winter-summer.


      TITLE:  A dash of heat
      DATE:  1994 Oct 1
      LOCATION:  PҺoenᎥᶍ  ArᎥɀønα







When you unprose language, does it become poetry?


      DATE:  1994 Nov 11







Poetry —
unprosed words

Prose —
bloated poetry


      TITLE:  Revise
      DATE:  1994 Nov 11
      NOTES:  revised







Channels are blocked in the mind, from the day. Lie down in blackness of night, forgotten remnants rush to the mind, or creeping slowly appear in the dreams.


      DATE:  1994 Nov 20







Lessons from jealousy and anger:  sometimes the poison-keeper gets poisoned.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 1







Winter dies into the spring, to be born again in the autumn.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 4







Have your final drink first — and then stop.


      TITLE:  Advice
      DATE:  1994 Dec 4







My poems are love-drunk letters to the universe.


      TITLE:  So easy, so hard
      DATE:  1994 Dec 11







Angels mend our patchwork hearts with threads of love.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 13
      NOTES:  revised







Time is the only thief we can't get justice against.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 14







...hoping that Death
has called in sick today...


      DATE:  1994 Dec 24







Ah! a blessing beyond all fate
My soul mate is my sole mate.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 31







Here I am, a life brand new,
But no one told me what to do.
Got myself a stark blank slate,

Guess I’d better decorate.
Wanna be real pretty,
Must appear first-rate.

Stop, stop, the outside must wait.
Think there’s something inside me,
Need to find it and set myself free.

It’s taking so long, can’t find the key,
And all the others seem to know
In themselves what lies below.

So much searching, I begin to see
Secluded passions and the start
Of deep true feelings within my heart.

The lively outer is just for show,
Inside I am filled with woe.
Somewhere there’s a missing link,

The inner passion is more like pink
But always disguised in my blue.
Yank it off, nevermind the jolt,

This is me through and through.
I know my layers will always molt,
Matters no more—they’re all the same hue.

Having struggled through this bout
I feel I must redecorate,
This time from the inside out.


      TITLE:  Becoming Me
      DATE:  1994 Dec 31
      AGE:  twenty-one







Decorate yourself from the inside out.


      DATE:  1994 Dec 31
      NOTES:  brainstorming notes for 'Becoming Me' poem







YEARLY  ARCHIVES 2024,  2023,  2022,  2021,  2020,  2019,  2018,  2017,  2016,  2015,  2014,  2013,  2012,  2011,  2010,  2009,  2008,  2007,  2006,  2005,  2004,  2003,  2002,  2001,  2000,  1999,  1998,  1997,  1996,  1995,  YOU  ARE  HERE,  1993,  1992,  1991,  1990,  1980s,  ARCHIVES  HOMEPAGE





Terri Guillemets
Archives — 1994






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