BIO
Marinarena is an emerging writer, who's a bit on the mysterious side, happy, down-to-earth, curious, and one who looks forward what life will reveal to her. Writing has been a way to let her inner thoughts run rampant and has become like a best friend to whom to turn in need for understanding. Particularly, it is poetry which inspires her the most. She thrives on freeform, confessional style. As a writer, she strives to connect with readers, not to leave one thinking, "what the world is she trying to say?"
Website contact info:
Hallmarkshakesperean@gmail.com
M a r i n A r e n a Poetry, Musings & more
If you're bored during the day, come to my TWITTER and be nosy, Next best thing to invading my closet.
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New poetry washed on shore...
For Seal Beach (after the 12th of October 2011)
Only in a day
Our Mayberry by the sea
is decimated
by a tidal wave
risen not from the ocean
our calm, intimate
piece of Pacific
but from a grim urban swell
that could not be tamed
That one man's fury
could unleash such vitriol
in our precious town
That the lunatic
could crash down and inundate
sorrow upon here
in an otherwise bright
sunny sanctuary
sickens to the core
Yet we and this town
are strong and won't succomb to
his brutal deluge
Do I Need This Coffee?
Benita bends long
long at an acute acute angle
picking coffee beans,
beginning at dusk.
Around the same time, I rise
then, soon, head for work.
But surely before,
I officially wake up
with a cup of joe.
"Pure Colombian
w/ 2% or soy milk
from the coffee joint.
Never in her life
Benita's lips touched coffee
There's no want of this
only there is need
to pick the field
for feeding
her family's mouths
con pan, frijoles
y arroz- just the staples
for a daily meal.
With the soy milk shot,
I spend $3 on my joe-
Benita's day wage.
Should I feel guilty,
sad, angry, or disgusted?
All but indifferent.
Old Farts
Old farts...
congregate in garages
with their hands fist deep
in their beer gut stretched pants,
counting the passing Chevys and Dodges
bitchin' and blabbering about their bosses in setereo
(The superiors big wig jerks at work
and their sassy bold wives)
over blaring oldies playing on the radio...
It's Saturday morning in the neighborhood
Sad to see them gradually waste away.
Though, when I pass their way,
they keep saying, "Life is good".
Pay-As-You-Go/ Recession Poetry
Her new economic plan:
ditching the Black(Crack) berry
for pay-as-you-go
seeing Gray
(based on a woman's confession)
One little gray hair- and I freak out!
But I know better that that!
Of what am I afraid?
One little gray spider- and I lose it!
But I'm so much bigger than that!
Of what am I afraid?
I keep telling myself
I'm growing wise with that follicle
But I act the fool thinking that spider
will get the best of me.
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