J U L Y. 1999

Name or Alias:   Taryn Graham
E-Mail:   MisterPink@aol.com
Why do you write poetry?   I write it for the same reasons a lot of people do. It's basically an easy way to express myself. I can't imagine expressing some of the feelings to people directly. Poetry is basically a way for me to say what I want without hurting other people. Most of my poetry is negative and I think in a way that's a good thing. That way I'm not holding all those negative feelings in or taking them out on the wrong people. 

Why is poetry important to you?   To me poetry is a way of keeping me sane. I've been going through some of the hardest things in my life and I'm not good at sharing my feelings. It's a lot easier for me to just write them down, I guess it's kind of like therapy or something. 

As a Fiona Apple  fan, can you make a statement that connects you to Fiona and poetry?   I really can't explain it. Honest poetry. There's just something about her music and her words that make me feel like hey, it's okay to have these negative feelings, it's okay to write them down and get them out. She seems so smart and it's like wow someone that can really make you feel or react. Whenever I listen to her music or read something she's said, it makes me want to write, to express myself. I don't even know if that made any kind of sense but it's how I feel. I'm pretty sure I wrote all the poems you have while I was listening to her cd. 

I don't like to title my poems. Titles seem to make people look for the meaning of the title instead of finding something else in the poem itself.

they say she flirts with it all 
she's even knocked on the door of death 
and stared him back in the eye 
but deep down she's worried about 
what you're what they're what she's thinking 
about her 
and if the shadows aren't enough they 
have to go and add the rainbows 
and the suited ones can tolerate the rain 
doesn't matter to her though its all the same 
the torture of the different melodies 
last night the opera this night the strings 
suicidal tendencies 
trembling fingers bloodstained rings 
and she does all this just because she's worried of what you think 


masochists and politicians 
my moms got eyes in the back of her head 
or so she's said 
and i have to create myself inside their boundaries 
their limitations 
i have to eat their creations swallow my pride 
to make up for their mistakes 
take me for a walk tonite 
thru burning parks 
and we can listen to the tortured melodies 
of lost family members as they scream 
as malicious enough as it is 
its not bad enough to be fixed 
so we all sit behind our small wooden desks 
and let the ones with the big desks 
designate our lives 
when did we learn to forget and accept 


lizard tails and pony tails 
children in the backyard 
gazing into their drunken eyes 
brewing of fear and curiosity 
striking images turning into fists 
pounding softly upon the table 
crackling furniture pieces of yesterday destroyed 
listening to the same song the bird sang before 
broken records 
dancing hypocrites knocking on the door 
watch yourself your back is turned 
then the melodies begin again 
all too familiar 
cant help but to sing along 
they nod in disapproval 
waiting to shake your hand 


characters from long ago 
old westerns tv shows 
my character is long played out 
disappeared like all the rest 
popularity died down before it could surface 
shut out knowingly or not 
they let me keep my distance 
you know my name and face 
you don't know me 
this charade is all for you 
I'll let you believe what you want 
you let me fear the reactions of their wretched souls 
i back down for you let you win it seems 
and you never looked back 
couldn't even wave at me 
thank you. 


poverty is just in my head 
they go round and round and sometimes they'll end up dead 
so i'm swimming in this pool of blood but its starting to turn gray 
and i wonder who's blood this is who ended up this way 
chicken shit and lollypops  candy apples bloody clots 
wretched children on the floor begging for no more 
and then the clouds release their gifts pouring down on the innocent 
what will time take to heal 
cant remember when they got their last meal 
museums and equality take time for the rich 
hurry cause they're suffering 
i think she broke a freakin nail 
now how can she live 
shuffle in the laundry bags 
release the rats at will.