Help Me

Help me.
The air conditioners
It’s like

with water bugs.
I will not say
those words.

eileen lewis-lurin

Undine of St. Agnes School

Undine of St. Agnes School

Don’t look down, Undine, at the waves in the meandering stream.

Look up at the yellow sailboats stranded on the shore-waiting

for the waters to rise.

Look up from the empty tin can in the foreground of grass.

I am reading Edith Wharton’s The Custom of the Country

for you, Mrs. Connell. With love.
Eileen Lewis-Lurin
copyright 6/13/13
Hurray for Mopsy and Tessa!

Hey guys- I have lost a little control here. I cannot find my poems and my memory does not help me .

if you you cannot find them, please look in my archives for Cathedral School and my poem about God, etc.

I wrote about books also.

No names are

No names are necessary:

Reunion 3: fiction and non-fiction

I remember when I dragged

my father -digitalis up-upp the stairs

to see the plant in your living room.

I remember us all standing there.

I remember our silence,

our incredible silence

when your father died.

alone. Your grandmother standing

in your kitchen,waiting for your coming home.


Your hole in -one – in your girdle as you dated the man you married before we graduated.

your silences.

your laughter at me.

I remember the face of the boy i loved. i wanted to marry.

How you laughed.

What mirror-how small it would be

it could be.

I remember what we wanted to see.

Eileen Lewis-Lurin @ 5/8/2013


my personal email

my personal email may have been hacked?

I’m working on straightening

that out, now.

Also, I am working on three poems

related to my reading of

“The Sound And The Fury”;

I also have written a long poem on the tragedy at Waco.

Eventually, i will get them on this blog that you, all of you,

have made me love to write on.

Thank you, Eileen

The Vase, Gaze

The Vase, Gaze

I love when scarlet tulips

reach straight out to me

from a squat, white, ceramic vase.

It takes three pieces of

ice when

I open my eyes, and cold water in their vase

before i go to bed.

Set them off to one side, on

a blue,round table that sits in the center of the

room, opaque, yet shimmering,

open to my gaze.

Breathing is expensive, emotional-

and then requires follow-up, even for scarlet tulips that do not kiss.

Eileen Lewis-Lurin, Last week, April 9th, 2013, Copyright