In progress

Couldn't sleep, so blogging.
My teenage heart writes poems.


"Too much"


Twice that day I looked at you with scorn.
Once, secretly,
at the back of your head
across a crowded room
when I heard the squeak and crackle of your polite laugh.


The second, with forethought,
to your face
across the dinner table
when you winced about the day you'd had.


My full-frontal assault had no effect.
"Honey, do you have indigestion?" you asked.
My scorn-face melted into bemusement -- 
Feeling the muscles in my face relax,
I reclaimed my usual mask
of calm, demure contentment.


--Alice

For a Middle English word from the twelfth century, "scorn" gets a lot of play on the internet: with 1 million hits on Google Images, it's the name of metal bands, super-villains, and a wrestler; and it's mentioned in innumerable blog titles. It's a great word to use in a poem, and it's fun to say out loud ... "scorn." This pic shows what could very well be my next karaoke shirt.