Wednesday, December 1, 2010

As Time Goes By

By Jan M Smith 11/30/2010

I have to chuckle in my beer mug
As I think of those women he took
And used in his sickness and threw away
And never looked back or even shrugged

Oh, the one I never met her, what a loser
Her poor husband and child never knew
But I found her, she knows I did
She never responded, probably vomited, good.

The other thinks she is a princess,
With her high waist, pointed chin, long skinny teeth
Beautiful eyes and a voice like a chipmonks
And lost in a mirror and so deceived.

And then there is the one, ole silly, giggly
All snow white, fluffy skin and hair
Out of shape always with kankles
Batting her eyes, a stupid rabbit in a snare.

Oh there is Joyce with a lisp and bad teeth
Was already a practiced adultress with no chin
Had hammer toes at the end of her bowed legs
Now she is fat as a cow with teats.

And my good old friend of oh so many years
Thought he loved her, oh her poor sad tears
But he never loved her, he only used her
Walked away from her without a care.

And of her I found some pictures
Recent ones that made me sick
She is ugly, bad hair and is disgusting
Looks just like an indian man, a nasty hick.

And of me , how do I fit in
Tell me where do I stand
I stand as a person in great pain
Trying to get over the betrayals and live again

I would rather be me than ever be them
The sickness and evil they carry inside
They have a lot to answer for one day
Gray haired living with their lies.

Monday, June 21, 2010


by Jan M Smith, June 2010

I sit here as I come to the conclusion I dreaded the most
I will never forgive my husband, I will never lose that ghost
I shall always see him with my friends making me a fool
I will never be free to live with all the disrespect to my soul

I do not want to be at the junction, the place, this time
I have fought it for two years, he has tried to be so kind
But he can never undo all the horrors he brought to my life
All I ever wanted to do was love him and be his wife

When I say I wish that I had died in surgery in 2004
It is not just for drama, or reaction, or to score
If I had gone to my death and never have been told those facts
My daughters lives would be so much better, so intact.

I would not want him to have the money that came when I died
But, I would be gone, so I suppose he and Patti would wait and then fly
Off to Utah or CO or some state that offers biking Shangri Las
Me out of the way, never the wiser, just stupid as I was til I died

You hurt me you bastard, you bastard, you son of a bitch
You heartless bastard you son of a bitch you killer of my life
You tore out my heart when I was sick, you and that ugly whore
You threw me away, so easily, so easily, you trash on the floor

And now, here I stand in the middle of the ocean
On this island of one and alone with my skin on fire
Asking God why I ever met you, why he hated me so much
To send me you, you, you so evil, so corrupt.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Right Now

By Jan M Smith May 2010

I am not so angry with you at this time
I do not feel like I want to shred your heart in your chest
I am numb if the truth be told and feel nothing
And I am not sure if that is what is for the best.

The crisis of always remembering
Of thinking of you being unfaithful and a liar
Seeing you inside my mind with my friends
Making love, or laughing in the night.

Those visions made me want to slap you
Just slap you until you could not breathe
Make you cry and cry like I cry
Make you cry and cry and then heave

But right now I feel nothing, nothing
I am numb and just want to get on
It is an odd way to feel after all the visions
Right now, but who knows bout later on.

Pin Ball Pain

By Jan M. Smith May 2010

In a group from one to the other
Sharing pain fired off in a rapid way
Bouncing from one but sticking on another
Bringing enlightenment and new meaning on Monday.

We are different in the very same way
We are rich and we are poor and we cry
We all have spouses who care more about a climax
Than the fact that they make us want to die.

Our eyes are all tired and they are alert
We are a contradiction all around the room
We are young and we are older
But regardless of our age we all feel the doom

Men children have brought our worlds to it's knees
Men babies and their tantrums need to have a time out
Men tots need their asses kicked
But we all have lived our lives afraid of this lot.

But in this group, one from the other
We share our pain and it is not so rapid this way
Our eyes fill with tears for ourselves and each other
And we go off and come back again next Monday.

Sillie Giggly

By Jan M Smith  May, 2010

Once upon a time in a town that is mine
A beautiful girl was born who fought all the time
Because she felt less than the rest,
She just felt trashy and poor at best.

But as happens so many times with a beautiful girl
After she learned how to bleach and curl
And discovered makeup, and how to tilt her head
Her powers lay in getting a man into her bed.

Now, this worked well if she wanted to get back at a friend
Someone who was smarter, or pretty & doing well on their end
A person she could never be, who had a husband she wanted
She would get back at them through the husband and not be daunted

The only problem with Sillie Giggly was as all liars do
Lies catch up to you and cause you to look like a fool
All over the internet you can find her name
Crying over late house payments, smears on her fame

Sue someone for defaming her for telling the truth?
Go ahead Miss M,  you trollop, IP addresses will be your noose
Dates and times and your account that you used to lie on that site
Will sew you up tighter than Dick's hat band, that's right.

You are pathetic, sad, whiney, all pink and sheer
Your friends know who you are now, a pig, a thief, so queer
Flabby, transparent, holding up a facade
Christlike?  Pentacostal? Oh My God.

Never The Same

By Jan M. Smith May, 2010

I listen to you talk and look at your face
A young woman who is lost, alone in every place
Accusing and critical of most everything I say or do
It seems these days that I no longer know you.

Not long ago I was lost on the edge of insane
Things I learned pushed me hard I fell to the edge of my brain
Waves of pain and shock echoeing in my body day by day
I was too out of touch with the world to be afraid

But in that dark time of sorrow and woe
Riding in that ship filled with thorns, thrown to and fro
As I bled and I cried and I flailed in the air
I was not myself, I was lost, too much so to care.

Unless you have walked in those shoes you can not understand
What one person can do, how cruel is one man
And if you add to this evil mix the fact that I was not well
It was certainly a recipe written straight from hell.

You forget that you wished your family to all go away
You forget that you wanted to start afresh, have a new day
You forget that you envisioned someone else there nine months to prepare
And you pushed me away to have her, but she seemed to not care.

And if in these past two years you have forgotten the ones that came before
If you can disregard the times I held you and soothed you, picked you up off the floor
Sang you a song, kiss your golden hair, made your clothes, held your hand
If those years do not matter, then I will never understand.

No, I will never be the same, I have been changed, my free spirit lost
For believing in love and trust and then have this, it came with a cost
But this is my life and I am struggling and I cannot change what you scream to me now
There is no care for me in you, none, no how.

Friday, April 16, 2010


By Jan M. Smith, Arpil, 2010

Pausing in my mind, stumbling over the past
Visions of a life that I have never seen
Cause anxiety and pain to wash over me
And know that my life was just a bad dream.

I hunger for information and instead eat more food
Or I starve and die inside a cocoon
These great waves of emotions will not stop tearing me down
As I continue my free fall flailing like a clown

Sometimes I long to be the sinner, the bringer of pain
Licking my fingers, my lips, the thighs of my lovers in my game
Lying to my spouse with no conscious all for my gain
Snapping my fingers and whistling through life and my shame.

Until one day I get caught, decide I am sorry, oh woe is me
And then I decide that was not the best way to be
And I purge my soul through confession to my spouse
And start all over, cleansed, smiling, hustling about.

But what you leave, you immaculate liar and fool
In your desire to change and yourself redo
Is a destroyed human, your trusting wife
Who never knew and never deserved this life

You made a decision to swim in that pool of evil and shit
And when you were tired you climbed out turning away from that pit
But in the process you threw me into the deep end to flounder and drown
And then you stand here and wonder why I cannot just climb out?

I have to get over 38 years of being a fool, looking back at a life I never knew
Get over you telling women you loved them, taking them out in public on dates
I have to get over being sick and you not caring enough to stop before it was too late
And now I have to learn to love you in spite of all my hate.

You do not know what it feels like to be treated with so much disrespect

You do not know what it feels like to imagine me in the arms of your best friend

You do not know what it feels like to know that our friends knew

You do not know what it feels like to know that your wife has lied to you

You should be hurt like I have, I should go out and do this to you

You should have to lay awake at night watch that movie anew

That will not go away, and the main star is your wife

Hear the sounds that you know that I will make during sex cut you like a knife

You should wonder if he has a bigger dick than you

You should wonder if he made me climax, once, twice, a slew

You should wonder if he made love to me two times each time we met

You should wonder if I would come home and sit on the couch beside you, still wet

You should wonder if anyone saw me climb into the back seat of his car

You should wonder if they saw me take off all my clothes and then saw us together, near and far

You should wonder if I performed sex with him that I did not with you

You should wonder if I told him I loved him and if I ran you down to him, boo hoo hoo

You should wonder if I told him that I only married you because I carried your child

You should wonder if I told him he was the best lover I had ever had.

You should wonder if when I told you I did not feel like it, I was just not in the mood

If it was because I had been with him all day, and not at work, we had a hotel room

Or you should wonder if I brought him to our home, to your bed, and spent the day.

You could remember seeing him all those times out and how he embraced you and shook your hand

And then we would hug and he would say, "Hey, I have not seen you in a long time, how have you been?"

And you could then know that he had seen me at least twice or three times that very week.

And, the anger would make you want to scream to the heavens, and his neck, break.

You could remember calling him to ask him a question and having long phone calls

Him telling you about his son and how many problems he was having with his marriage at home.

And you would be so compassionate with him and it would cause you to call him often to help.

Because you cared about him as your friend and now you realize he was seeing me for 13 years.

You could remember how it felt when you were diagnosed with prostate cancer, how scared you were

How it meant nothing when you had your 10 hour surgery with a 9 day hospital stay and he was at your side

You know now that he was with me within two weeks, neither of us cared about you at all.

Cancer? Big deal. Get over it. Out of sight, out of mind.

You should wonder if I made fun of you, ran you down, tried to justify why I am a whore.

Yes, you should. That is what you have done to me. Only part of it. There are five other women. For these things, I hate you.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010


By Jan M. Smith January, 2010

If my heart were made of glass
It would have shattered
And could have never been fixed.

If my heart were made of ice
It would be so frozen
One would never be able to get inside.

If my heart were planted with flowers
The weeds would have taken over
From the years of pain and neglect.

All I ever wanted in this life with you
Was to love you and find happiness
All I ever looked forward to was for you to return.

I had waited all the many years for that look
For that touch that meant you did finally see me
To take my breath away again, I needed it so much.

And now when you have that look and love for me, you do
You bring promises to me on a bloody pillow of torn dreams
And it is hard to lay my head and find rest with you there.

I have told you that your face is mine and mine only
No one should have seen your face in the throes of love save me
I am broken and wasted and fall backward screaming inside, cut

You were it for me. Just you. You were it for me. You.
Your smell, Your Taste, Your Eyes, You in the night.
And now I am lost in the visions of being nothing special at all.

When one says the words "I Do" they lay in the bed God gave
They learn of love, grow together, learn the touch that is just theirs
No other knows it but you two and it changes as you age and grow together

I am the only one who grew in that way, and grew only to you
Now I feel grown to them, to the others as well, as you bring them to me
You grew with others, their touch, their way, not just with me.

I have to take this out of my head in order to have my love with you now
You took what was sanctified and made it unclean and it has to be made whole again
They were not clean they were lost souls, slaves to the flesh, just like you.

I am so damn broken.

Friday, February 5, 2010

The Wonder

By Jan

I wonder if she has stepped on the bus
And her look was just a sly eye to the side
And, I wonder if his chemical being gave him a shot
And, of a sudden she was planted in his mind

Then the next time that she got onto his bus
Because these people they ride time and again
And, gave that sly eye and knowing smile was he ready
And, gave it back to her with his blue eyed grin.

And thus has a dance with this person been started
And, he is finding relief from a pent up pressure inside
And he is telling himself this is ok, I am doing nothing wrong
But in fact this is the beginning of his deadly demise.

Does he think of her as her boarding time nears
Or does he think of her and pleasure himself when I am not around
And, with this fantasy is he not realizing that he is planning
To make a second move on her with hope and fear

His illness is about being secret and taking risks
And the sex is about hiding his pain and anxiety away
And this person is a pawn in this game that is deadly
She is the same as he is and she is ready to play.

So, these are the thoughts that I deal with each day
He thinks of himself as different, stronger, not like them
Won't go to the 12 step meetings
And, so I wait for the wonder to begin.

The Choke

By Jan

I feel that old familiar feeling, it is coming again, I hear that smell in my brain when he said "think of all  7" and I knew there were only 6.  When I saw that movie, the one he never saw and when he lied to me that he never saw it and found no pleasure the step was taken backward, and then there were 7, I heard it and my brain smelled it.

There was a time when he would have gotten angry just as he did, screaming at me over nothing, losing control and spewing forth a rant, even saying then perhaps I needed to think on how to do this different, inferring we should be apart, but when I said pack and go then, he could turn it on me as the bad guy.  He is still the master, in his mind.  I am now his better.  I see him clearly.

Changes are coming and the truth is going to be told over the next months and this man of mine will lose himself, and he knows this.  This man of mine has many, many times told the truth accidentially and then said he never said what he said or that I am making it into something it was not.  Oh, there were times when he could do that, oh yes he could and confuse me.  But no more.  I HEAR EVERY WORD HE SAYS.  The problem is that he does not hear them.  He says them unconciously, without meaning to.  His cover up attempts are pathetic.  They make me ache and hurt.

Now, my issue is do I wait this out, stand by him and find all this out, and decide?  But what else can I do now.  I have to know, though, that I may not be here in the end.  I have to be prepared that we may not survive this, as I am sure he knows this himself.  He is upset as I have never seen him.  Yes, he did stop his antidepressant, and yes that is contributing to his condition, but it is more than that.  There will be a lie detector before this is all said and done.  He will have to do this.  I will never rebuild my trust without it.  I was glad when my new doctor said they have them there and that it is necessary for some to have it done to restore trust.  It will be for me.  I will never get there any other way.  But, first, there must be him getting inside this new program and then we will work towards that.

But, for now, I feel the choke.  And, I want to cry until it kills me.  He is in relapse.  He is apt to do anything.  Yes, he is.  And, I cannot stop him.  But, it will absolutely kill me.

Friday, January 22, 2010

That Ole Familiar Feeling

By Jan M. Smith 1/2010

Just when things get to feelin like somethin
And the windshield of your life seems clear to the other side
Some big bird flies over and shits on it
And distorts your vision makin it seem like that other time

Just when your stomach seems all settled
And your favorite foods begin to taste good on the tip of your tongue
You bite into an apple some worm done took a dump in
And your throat cannot swallow that lump

Just when the world seems less cloudy,
And you see the blue sky up above trying to peek through
A cold north wind swoops down on your heart
And you feel the same desolation you did from the start

Just when you think you can finally hear the birds sing
You can feel your toe tapping with a smile in your mind
You hear one name, or that one, or the worst one
And a high pitched sound comes and blocks out the sun

I want no more 'just whens' because I am so weary
I would rather just lay down and die
No ones heart can live and die over and over
No ones, no not even mine.

I miss you Daddy.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Star Catchers

By Jan M. Smith

What a wonderful relief I have found
To be able to meet some nutty clowns
Who seem to be lost in a haze of chiffon
With anvils and hangmen's nooses on their arms.

Say what, about who, and you did what, I am lost
No surely not, I mean, say that again, what? you are gone?
There is a game, did I not pick the top hat as my man
Oh I see you always must have the upper hand

Well, my dears do not you think that you can slam that door in my face
And you knock on it and I slam it on my foot in my haste
And while I am hopping around in pain, sad and blue
Then you can take a look inside my clean innocent room

There was no agenda here, no heart of coal, nothing being sought
You have nothing I want or care for and much from which I would bolt
Because you see, my dears, you do not know me, that was your mistake
You somehow must understand I pick and choose my own fate

No one owns me and no one owns my name,
No one tells me what to do nor who to claim
But if anyone hurts me, or my friend just the same
They are banished to forever land and I stand unashamed

If you stand still long enough ones true colors are usually shown
They are the ones who cause pain, lash out and make themselves known
They tilt their chins and fa fa from their mouths with wide red smiles
And they just may lose the best people from whom they could have shared some miles.

They live in an endless circle trying to catch a ride on a star
They fluff up their hair, looking for a name, a limousine car
So get at it, go on, leave the real folks alone.
We have stuff to do, not dodging your dry bones.

Buh bye