S E P T E M B E R. 1999

Name or Alias:   Beth Dileo
E-Mail:   oola@hotmail.com 
Why do you write poetry?   I write poetry to express myself, to vent any uncomfortable emotions that I've bottled up inside. I also write about things that inspire me, like tragic events. Writing about them somehow gives them some dignity and honor

Why is poetry important to you?    Poetry is important to me because it allows me to be as outrageous as I want. I can let it all hang out. I can be myself. It's not like when you're in a polite conversation and you have to watch what you say. 

As a Fiona Apple  fan, can you make a statement that connects you to Fiona and poetry?   Fiona has a lot of anger inside her, a lot of strong emotions. I have anger inside me as well, not to mention hurt. I don't always let things go, and this comes through in my poetry. Fiona also makes you think, and I try to do that in my poetry as well.

MY BURDEN
Your insults have weighed me down 
Like heavy stones upon my back 
A burden that I must carry 

They have caused tears in my eyes 
An unreasonable fear deep within me 
And pain in my heart 

I did not belong because of you 
And I hated myself because of it. 

Only now can I release the hate 
Realize that you were wrong 
Free myself from the burden 
That you gave me 
And move on with my life 

DEAD

Dead 
like the brown leaves of trees 
crunching beneath footsteps 
or the furry body of a squirrel 
lying on the highway 

Dead 
like the dreams of many 
locked away in their minds 
or the hope of peace 

Dead 
like the loved ones dear to us 
who leave us behind 
as they return to the earth 
Dead 

I SIT ON A PORCH

I sit on a porch 
A swing beside me 
A shaft of sunlight 
Beats upon my face, and warms me 

A breeze arrives 
Stirring up the dust from the road before me 
Gently rocking the swing, like a baby in a cradle 
Causing it to creak in protest 

I sit on a porch 
Isolated as an island 
Preferring not to acknowledge the world 
Preferring instead to dream 

I draw my knees to my chest 
Only too aware of reality 
Aware that I must soon face it 
But enjoying the moment instead

HIS EYES

The moment that his eyes met mine 
I could not look away 
They locked with my simple browns 
Those gorgeous spheres of pale azure 

Something made me look away 
Embarrassment to stare at such a man 
Harborment of a crush 
Or even something else 

But I will never forget the moment 
That his eyes met with mine