<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:21:05.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jersey Girl Poetry</title><subtitle type='html'>Over the years I have written many poems. Some sad, some happy, some just matter of fact. Mostly a reflection of how I was feeling at the time. Here's a sampling. More to come!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258.post-5655782427723151048</id><published>2007-08-24T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:16:35.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend</title><content type='html'>2006&lt;br /&gt;Lori Krein&lt;br /&gt;I ran out the door, grabbed the mail real quick,&lt;br /&gt;Saw a note from a friend, who said she was sick.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe dying, could be, not sure how bad yet,&lt;br /&gt;So I wrote back a note, “Just try not to fret,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it’s nothing”, I said through my tears,&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could hug her, dispel all her fears.&lt;br /&gt;But I just sat there, trying not to weep,&lt;br /&gt;There was nothing I could do, for my friend, in pain, so deep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks later, she got sicker and died,&lt;br /&gt;I went to her funeral, came home and I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When there is death, the pain stays with us,&lt;br /&gt;We are the ones who make such a fuss.&lt;br /&gt;The dead just lie there, so quiet and still,&lt;br /&gt;Asleep forever, no need for a pill.&lt;br /&gt;To the next world they happily go,&lt;br /&gt;What happens when they get there,&lt;br /&gt;I guess we’ll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer here to share in life’s joys,&lt;br /&gt;Like walks on the beach, or kissing cute boys.&lt;br /&gt;Do they know what they’re missing, back here on earth?&lt;br /&gt;Do they think about life, way back to their birth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend I will miss, I cry every day,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never again see her again, not in the normal way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will see her, even though she has died,&lt;br /&gt;Still in my heart, way deep down inside.&lt;br /&gt;Her face, her words, her goofy little smile,&lt;br /&gt;So many memories, I think they’ll last awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3086395083103377258-5655782427723151048?l=jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5655782427723151048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3086395083103377258&amp;postID=5655782427723151048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/5655782427723151048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/5655782427723151048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/08/friend.html' title='Friend'/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258.post-6654602088678524517</id><published>2007-08-24T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:13:19.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diapers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="_Toc158808131"&gt;Diapers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;copyright 2003&lt;br /&gt;Lori Krien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby came out, all wrinkly and red,&lt;br /&gt;The nurse held him tight, as I lie in my bed.&lt;br /&gt;I was too tired to fuss much right then,&lt;br /&gt;She took him away, I slept until ten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They brought him back, all snuggly and asleep,&lt;br /&gt;I cuddled him close, and tried not to weep.&lt;br /&gt;Is he really mine, I stared at him in awe,&lt;br /&gt;He just so perfect, from what I saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon he awoke and opened his eyes,&lt;br /&gt;Soon after that came the loud wild cries.&lt;br /&gt;What do I do, with this bundle of wrath?&lt;br /&gt;Should I give him a bottle, or give him a bath?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I felt something warm, underneath the babe’s butt,&lt;br /&gt;It was wet and I thought, where’s the nurse? He’s been cut!&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw no blood, just a wet blanket there,&lt;br /&gt;Well, I thought, can I do this? Do I even dare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change my first diaper, what’s the first thing to do?&lt;br /&gt;I laid the baby down, and then I smelled poo.&lt;br /&gt;I got a new diaper, and went to work on the mess,&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was passing my first mommy test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were going well, so I thought with a grin,&lt;br /&gt;I turned to get another safety pin.&lt;br /&gt;When I turned back around, my face got quite a surprise,&lt;br /&gt;The pee-pee was squirting, right in front of my eyes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It went everywhere,  the bed and the floor,&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was over, but then came some more!&lt;br /&gt;I was at such a loss about what to do,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy test number one was not yet through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3086395083103377258-6654602088678524517?l=jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6654602088678524517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3086395083103377258&amp;postID=6654602088678524517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/6654602088678524517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/6654602088678524517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/08/diapers.html' title='Diapers'/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258.post-236335368790629720</id><published>2007-08-24T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:12:15.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't wanna take a shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="_Toc158808128"&gt;“I don’t want to take a shower”&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lori Krein&lt;br /&gt;9/18/04&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s shower time! Said mom and dad,&lt;br /&gt;Whenever they say that I get really sad.&lt;br /&gt;I hate standing there, and getting all wet,&lt;br /&gt;I’d rather be playing, on that you can bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for awhile I pretended, to get myself clean,&lt;br /&gt;I turned on the water, then did something mean.&lt;br /&gt;I wet my hair from the bathroom sink,&lt;br /&gt;And I washed my face til it turned really pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After awhile, I turned off the flow,&lt;br /&gt;So far my parents didn’t even know.&lt;br /&gt;I come out of the bathroom all ready for bed,&lt;br /&gt;Pretending to be clean, but I was still dirty instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks went by, my scheme working just fine,&lt;br /&gt;But then I noticed, all those friends of mine,&lt;br /&gt;Stopped coming around, to play after school,&lt;br /&gt;I wondered if maybe I was no longer cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I called them, they had something else going on,&lt;br /&gt;“I’m busy today” they said. Then they were gone.&lt;br /&gt;I wandered around, thinking, what bad thing did I do?&lt;br /&gt;Then my sister walked by, and said, “pee-u!”&lt;br /&gt;“You smell like a pig! Why is that stink?”&lt;br /&gt;And she ran far away, a big blur of pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stink? I thought, now how could that be?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t smell anything bad, just little ‘ole me!&lt;br /&gt;But as I walked down the street, people held on to their noses,&lt;br /&gt;It was clear that the smell was nothing like roses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I decided it was time to get clean,&lt;br /&gt;I was of tired of people being so mean.&lt;br /&gt;The water was brown as it went down the drain,&lt;br /&gt;And I noticed my color was no longer like stain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old life resumed, all my friends came back,&lt;br /&gt;I no longer smelled like an old garbage sack.&lt;br /&gt;Now I shower each night, I scrub ‘til I shine,&lt;br /&gt;I’m clean as a whistle, and I’m feelin’ just fine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3086395083103377258-236335368790629720?l=jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/236335368790629720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3086395083103377258&amp;postID=236335368790629720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/236335368790629720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/236335368790629720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-dont-wanna-take-shower.html' title='I don&apos;t wanna take a shower'/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258.post-8451386509072786898</id><published>2007-08-24T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:11:03.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't wanna go to bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="_Toc158808129"&gt;“I don’t wanna go to bed!”&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;copyright 2002&lt;br /&gt;Lori Krein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s 8:30 at night, time to cuddle in bed,&lt;br /&gt;“But I am not tired”!, that’s what I said.&lt;br /&gt;I know it’s time to sleep, but I don’t want dream,&lt;br /&gt;I want to stay up, I must think of a scheme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still want to play, with my books and my toys,&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to sleep, like the other little boys.&lt;br /&gt;I want to stay up, all night and just play,&lt;br /&gt;I don’t care what mom and dad have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I pretend I am sleeping, when they peak through the door,&lt;br /&gt;Then they tip-tow away, and I count up to four.&lt;br /&gt;Then once I know they are safe in their room,&lt;br /&gt;I sit up and smile, in the dark gloom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I do first? I think with glee,&lt;br /&gt;Should I play with my dolls, or pretend to have tea?&lt;br /&gt;There’s so much to do, and I have all night long,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’ll lie here, and make up a song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A song about clouds, floating up in the sky,&lt;br /&gt;All different shapes… there’s a fish, there’s a fly!&lt;br /&gt;They change and they grow, they get small and then big,&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could hold them, hey there goes a pig!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes, now they look really clear,&lt;br /&gt;I know they are far, but they seem so near.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I’m sleeping on those clouds in the air,&lt;br /&gt;I’m drifting along, not one single care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light as a feather, floating up towards the sun,&lt;br /&gt;I never thought floating could be so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know, my eyes open real slow,&lt;br /&gt;I am seeing the sun! How far did I go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where is my bed, and my toys and my dad?&lt;br /&gt;If I don’t get home, they will be really sad!&lt;br /&gt;So I closed my eyes once again really tight,&lt;br /&gt;I held them shut and with all of my might,&lt;br /&gt;I wished to be home on my pillow once more,&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes and took a quick tour,&lt;br /&gt;Horray! I made it! All my things are still here,&lt;br /&gt;It’s nice to be home, with mom and dad near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time it is night, I think I’ll just sleep,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll go to my bed with out a single peep.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll shut my eyes, and dream all night long,&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I’ll think of another nice song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3086395083103377258-8451386509072786898?l=jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8451386509072786898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3086395083103377258&amp;postID=8451386509072786898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/8451386509072786898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/8451386509072786898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-dont-wanna-go-to-bed.html' title='I don&apos;t wanna go to bed'/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3086395083103377258.post-31312919215981047</id><published>2007-08-24T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:05:55.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="_Toc158808092"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;MY STORY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;June 1996&lt;br /&gt;Going to work, day after day,&lt;br /&gt;For 13 years my life was that way.&lt;br /&gt;I made lots of cash, had so much fun,&lt;br /&gt;Went to the beach, laid in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out on the town, went out on dates,&lt;br /&gt;Danced at the clubs, searching for mates.&lt;br /&gt;He came to my door, another blind date,&lt;br /&gt;We played pool and drank wine, must have been fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work became a chore, I wondered “Is there more?”&lt;br /&gt;Life seemed dry, I needed something else to try.&lt;br /&gt;A child, I thought, would make the angst go away,&lt;br /&gt;Would give me a reason to get through the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had a baby, became a mom,&lt;br /&gt;Should we name him Marvin, Boris, or Tom?  &lt;br /&gt;The first few months were tiring and long,&lt;br /&gt;We went on long walks, I sang him some songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed home for awhile, watched him get big,&lt;br /&gt;Take his first step, pick up a twig.&lt;br /&gt;Drink from a cup, say his first word,&lt;br /&gt;Play with the hose, chase after a bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got lonely, bored and depressed,&lt;br /&gt;I felt really sad, like I needed a rest.&lt;br /&gt;I felt like a failure at being a mother,&lt;br /&gt;I was tired of taking care of another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How will I manage, juggling home and work?&lt;br /&gt;And I’d miss my baby; I’d feel like a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;What should I do to balance my life?&lt;br /&gt;I want to do more than just mother and wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be famous, be the best that there is,&lt;br /&gt;But my child comes first, so forget show biz.&lt;br /&gt;Never a singer, a dancer, a star,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll always be here, exactly who I are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can pretend, if only for one day,&lt;br /&gt;That when I sing for my baby, I’m auditioning for a play,&lt;br /&gt;And that to my little boy, I’m the biggest star he’ll ever see,&lt;br /&gt;His smile tells the story, and that’s enough for me!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3086395083103377258-31312919215981047?l=jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/31312919215981047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3086395083103377258&amp;postID=31312919215981047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/31312919215981047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3086395083103377258/posts/default/31312919215981047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jerseygirlpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-story-june-1996-going-to-work-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Lori the eco-artist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14986087397916929367</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yCbR90lGi-A/SLTaw3n8QXI/AAAAAAAAAY0/4uatB_5QM_o/S220/DSC04133.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
