Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the category “Poetry”

I Hope I Am Not You

I can’t take it. . .I can’t take one more day of it. . .people and their righteousness. . .believing their way is the only way and their ideals should be everyone elses. . . and morals where did the morals go. . .you said you’re a Christian. . .that’s what you claim to be. . . that’s what all those fucking memes you post say. . . and you lecture Christianity and “God’s love” only to turn around and judge and judge and judge. . . your fear is showing. . .your dirty, disgusting fear. . . turned outside in you feel the need to ejaculate your fear on everyone. . . you think you know so much. . . your anger drives you to a place you might not recognize. . .you think keeping them all at arm’s length will save you. . .how foolish of you to think the enemy doesn’t walk among us already. . .just send them there or there or anywhere but here. . .I’ll send money or clothes or anything but just don’t make me face my fears. . .but you don’t send money and you don’t send clothes. . .and you continue to live in your little house of fear while expecting the sons and daughters and mothers and fathers to keep your doorstep safe. . . to cast themselves upon your purported enemy. . .never once considering the fact they might not withstand what is dished out. . .to shine a light so you can try to block out the dirty filthy truth. . .which is that Americans aren’t all so nice and kind. . .and look closely because how many of you would turn a blind eye to murder and rape and the destruction of cultures. . . just because it might keep the wolf of fear at bay. . .look in the mirror and try to see the person you really are. . . try to see the person you might be if wars of religious righteousness were being fought on this red white and blue soil of ours. . .what would you do to protect the child you pushed from inside of you. . .where would you run when all doors close in your face. . . because you my dear are a filthy American and you are guilty by association

 

 

 

*The recent attacks on Paris and the plight of the Syrian refugees weighs heavy on my mind.  My Facebook feed has been bombarded with it, and people have sickened me with their rhetoric.  I spoke to a friend about it this morning, and walked away from the conversation more emotional and confused than I was before.  There are so many aspects of these issues, and conversations regarding them could go on forever.  I felt the need to write this and release some of the thoughts and feelings in me.  It’s not meant to be anti-American, or pro-Obama, or to enrage or incite.  It’s just meant to help me deal with the fact I must learn to live in a world, surrounded by people who can’t place themselves in another’s shoes, because they’re too angry and frightened to allow it. 

Exorcise

Someone
come
and banish these ghosts
from that which is my mind

Sage burnt
does not chase them away
nor salt at the thresholds

Only one pair of arms
shall perform the exorcism
I seek
with incantations whispered into my soul

an arid wasteland

lead my parched heart to an oasis before it dies of thirst

i have sand coursing through my veins

i cough dust and choke on the inhumanity of man

as i wash down the deceit with dirt

my body an empty shell

filled with the salt of the Dead Sea

bring me water on your tongue

for my shriveled soul

heart

Harsh Realities

I knew the minute you held my hand

your fingers didn’t intertwine with mine
you didn’t grab it like you never wanted to let it go
it felt awkward
uncomfortable
like it was difficult for our palms to be touching
foreign and out of place
your hand was an intruder
it didn’t belong

after all that time
months spent loving your from afar

I knew the minute you held my hand

you didn’t really love me

Crimson Cloak

You were the worst kind of wolf in sheep’s clothing

cleverly concealing your incisors

distracting with gallantry and double speak

drawing me ever closer to the

quilt of lies and chaos under which you laid

“Let me soothe you”

“I am not like all the others”

“Feel safe with me beautiful”

“I love you”

What big lies you have!

lies which swallowed me whole

sucking me into their vortex

spinning me ’round and ’round

threatening to drown me

and silence my inner knowing

Me, ingesting my doubt

instead of spewing it out so I wouldn’t aspirate on it

You, being the wolf you are

saw all the goodies in the basket I carried

and knew all the right words to

make me relinquish them

Whatever was your purpose?

except to stroke your big bad canis lupus ego

Eventually the woodsman will catch up with you

you looter and plunderer

and cast a downfall upon you

the likes of which

not even your pack will be able to rescue you from

I, walk away

to face another day

wrapping my crimson cloak tighter round

vowing

to never be hoodwinked by a wolf again

lrrh

Threadbare

pick

pick pick pick

at it

pull

pull it apart

threads woven

unraveled

destructed

ripped

yanked

frayed

tattered

holes remain

which you hope can be

patched

Life Lesson #564

The things you said

Or all the things you didn’t say

In the end

Didn’t make a damn bit of difference

It was what you did

Or all the things you didn’t do

That did.

So when all was said

And

All was done

You weren’t the one

**Note to self:  Actions speak louder than words. Always.  If you’re important to him, he’ll find the time.

The Poison Pen

Well, it happened today, and I have to say I’m just a bit excited. This uncouth, somewhat raunchy, fat bottom girl got her very first poem published in an actual publication, not just something I printed out of my garage on that old mimeograph machine.

It’s the first time I’ve ever had anything published, and I’m so glad it’s on Elephant Journal. Have you ever checked out Elephant Journal? It’s got a little bit of everything–poetry, astrology, relationship advice, healthy living, yoga–really, just a plethora of knowledge from tons of different authors.  Best part is, it’s almost free.  I say almost, because you can read three articles each day for free. I could never stop at three, so I bought a subscription for a mere $13 for a whole year, and it’s been some of the best money I’ve ever spent.

But without further ado, please, I’m begging you, go read, share with your friends, stay to read a couple more articles. Most of all, enjoy, as I’m hoping this is a first in a long line of published writing for me.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/08/leave-now-poem/

Announcement

Wanted to share a little news with you all.  No, I’m not pregnant. That would be a physical impossibility at this point in my life, for numerous reasons.

I submitted a poem, which I posted here on my blog, to elephant journal, and they have accepted it for publication.  I was quite excited, since this was the first time I had ever submitted anything, anywhere. Thankfully they were kind enough not to make me wait too long, until they responded.

I will post the link when it’s published, and I hope you will take time to check out my poem, if you haven’t already, and elephant journal.  I’ve fallen in love with elephant journal over the last few months, and I hope you do too!

Leave Now

“Leave now,” she said, “before I grow accustomed to your voice saying my name.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before I miss the weight of you in the bed and your hand upon my hip.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before we have a song we always dance to in the kitchen when it comes on the radio.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before I miss the feel of your lips upon mine and the smell of you upon my skin.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before we have jokes between us that no one else understands, and shared secrets.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before you make me believe in love and possibilities and tomorrows.”

“Leave now,” she said, “before you break my heart.”

Post Navigation

Trent Lewin

Fiction, and other made-up stories

Sparklebumps: The Mother Version

Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.

GREAT AWAKENINGS

One Therapist's Thoughts-Before and After

ZOVISION

It's not the length of life, but the depth.

My musings

This is my mind, it’s not supposed to make sense.

The Phil Factor

Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Lets Its Hair Down

Fighting the Myth

Shining the light of truth on delusion

The Haunted Librarian

Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.

bloggerelstl

You either get it... or you don't.

theonerealheir.wordpress.com/

Inky blackness, a yawning void ~

The Roar Sessions

A weekly series edited by Jena Schwartz

Beth Teliho

Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.

kirilson photography

the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa

SAINTSWEST

Just my thoughts for all to behold

Book Snob

FOR DISCERNING READERS

Ann Oblivion Blog

🍃 Fully Living The Unfinished Things Of Life Through Writings. 🍃

Chai and Chameli

Spiced with stories, served from the heart

Daniel Aegan

Writer, Tarot Reader, Designer

Annabel Vita

a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Even at Your Darkest

Seeking Beauty Beyond the Scars

insert witticism

The home of Emma O'Brien

shatteredtalon's Blog

The musings of a scorpion who would have been an eagle

knowingkimberly

I blog now. I know, I can't believe it either.