Fat Bottom Girl Said What

11 Apr 2016

10 Comments

Mute Button

I love the sound you make when you’re shutting the fuck up

well that’s no way to talk to someone you supposedly love I replied

shhhh

did you hear that

well if you’d shut your fucking gob hole you might

no one else can get a word in edgewise when you’re around

and you’re such a goddamn negative Nancy all the time

can’t you ever be positive

and talk nice

I think I’ve forgotten how she said

well you know the old saying

if you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say anything at all

oh christ on a cracker, now you sound like my mother

can’t you just give it a break already

take a rest

a siesta

a nap

I wish I could, I’ve almost forgotten how to sleep

I’ve become a zombie, the walking dead

eyes glazed over

feelings dulled

but in my mind I still hear you

you never fucking shut up

you’re a goddamn broken record

so zip your mouth

button your lip

lock it up and throw away the fucking key already

give me the silent treatment

because I love the sound you make when you’re shutting the fuck up

Posted in Poetry & Prose, Uncategorized and tagged I need a mute button for my mind, negative self-talk, the silent treatment, unquiet mind

08 Apr 2016

10 Comments

The cardinal visits me in my backyard
I know he’s my grandma, reincarnated
he sings his tune, but they are her words
calling me Stephie
wishing me Happy Birthday
we talk about recipes
and peanut butter and pickle sandwiches
and the popcorn made in an Atom Pop,
washed down with grape juice mixed with 7-Up
we speak of my son,
who she never met,
and how he’s taller than grandpa already,
at only 15
I smell her talcum powder,
and the earthy scent of the geraniums she grew on the glassed-in side porch
I remember the picnic lunches packed in the hamper
and tell her I bought one just like it at an auction
and how I like to look at all her little glass bottles of extracts in her pantry, hoping I would have the same one day
and we laugh over her frustration at my inability to learn crocheting after numerous lessons
and I tell her I miss her and wish
I had spent more time with her
when she was still here in human form
‘I love you’ I tell her
and she says the same as she flies away
but I know she’ll be back to visit me again

Posted in Poetry & Prose and tagged birthdays, family, grandma, memories

06 Apr 2016

2 Comments

Barren Ground

barren

I pour the words out on the page

hoping to arrange them in some sort of order

to make my feelings known to you

and understand them myself

but it’s all just so much claptrap and drivel

you wouldn’t notice anyway because you don’t pause to read it

“Ugh, it’s poetry”, you think

“Don’t waste my time with that bullshit”

but it’s not merely my words you disregard

it’s me

you pay me no mind

even though you are all I can think about

show me who you really are

so I can stop this idol worship

and return my heart to its former state of hollowness

where butterfly wings fail to flutter

and no hope grows

Posted in Poetry & Prose, Uncategorized and tagged false idols, hope, longing, love, relationships

05 Apr 2016

4 Comments

Apprentice Pyromaniac

the acrid smoke

of the burning Flint Hills

creeps in

through my cracked office window

soon I shall start my own blaze

although

I’m not usually one to burn bridges

ever extending my hand

only to get rapped

on the metaphorical knuckles

with your metaphorical ruler

like you’re some damn nun

pious

righteous

married only to god

when we both know you’re closer to Mary Magdalene

than you care to admit

I don’t mind living among the whores

I’m quite comfortable here

they don’t judge like you do

and there’s booze

I gather my accelerant

and pick up my strike on box only matches

ready to burn this bitch down

because I don’t need you

or your judgment

If only I’d known

years ago

how good it feels to be a pyro

Posted in Uncategorized

30 Mar 2016

8 Comments

Battle Wounds

I was never good at walking away

feet dragging

legs leaden

so I push. . .

barrages of gunfire from the arsenal

which is my wounded soul

you stand and take it all like a soldier

I wonder where your armor has come from

and how you dodge my bullets

Why do you stay?

What makes you dig in

and establish a bunker which can’t be penetrated by my ammunition?

You should retreat

run far away from my enemy lines

and the grenades I lob to keep you at a distance

But you don’t.

You stay strong through the fire fight

never once raising the white flag of surrender

Always my hero

setting me free from this prisoner of war camp I’ve constructed for myself

Posted in Poetry & Prose, Uncategorized and tagged dating, domestic violence, leftovers, love, relationships, survival

29 Mar 2016

4 Comments

No Succor

Photo Credit: alicewilkinsonphotography.com

leaves, void of chlorophyll,

scratch along the ground,

blown by a ceaseless howling wind,

which echoes the sounds of my soul

naked rose hips, petals long discarded,

scrape against the weathered wood of the fence,

clawing at it, like the hounds of hell

knocking at my door trying to gain entry

why do you hunt me?

constantly searching for the shell I have become

even camped in the depths of despair,

you persist in driving me further down

into the abyss

I’m lost forever to your darkness

Posted in Poetry & Prose, Uncategorized and tagged depression, melancholy

28 Mar 2016

New Talent – Beard n Butter

The brush moved deftly over her cheeks, giving definition to the bone structure; making more prominent her deep dimples when a smile lit up her face as it so often did. Her plump lips shone with dark lip gloss that contrasted beautifully the rich cafe au lait of her face. She decided to use the […]

via Good Hair — Beard n Butter

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

28 Mar 2016

6 Comments

I’m a surly sourpuss and

You’re. . . fingernails on a chalkboard

and a toothache

and a paper cut with salt in it

and the itch that can’t be scratched

and the screaming neighbor kid

and a piece of hair in my mouth

and the peppercorn in between my teeth

and the underwear that crawl up my ass

and the jeans that let my ass crack hang out

and the package that never gets her on time

and the customer service agent whose English can’t be understood

and the gum on the bottom of my shoe

and the person ahead of me in line who needs a price check

and you’re the late plane

and the early departure

and the crack in the sidewalk to be tripped over

and the pizza cheese that’s too hot and sticks to the roof of my mouth

and the lukewarm coffee

and the slow driver

and the road construction

and the black ice

and the long nose hair

and the pen that runs out of ink halfway through my signature

and the sold item in the store that I went there special for

and the bum wheel on the grocery cart

and the bird shit on my freshly washed car

and the hole in my favorite pants

and the broken underwire in my bra

You’re just annoying the fuck out of me, so get out of here and leave me alone.

Posted in Poetry & Prose, Uncategorized and tagged anger, annoyance, irritation, pet peeves

24 Mar 2016

#BeReal – FAT BOTTOM GIRL

I feel honored the beautiful wordsmith Hasty, of Hasty Words, allowed me to post about some of my personal shame for her #BeReal series. Head over and check it out, and keep hanging around for some really amazing writers.

HASTYWORDS

Please welcome today’s #BeReal guest, Fat Bottom Girl.

lips-374516_1280-edited

The load of shame I carry on a daily basis weighs me down.

I wish I could tell you when I picked up this particular baggage, but I cannot. I’ve carried it so long, that it’s become a part of me; melded into my marrow.

My shame stems not only from things I’ve done, but also from things which have been done to me.

Lately, I’ve been feeling especially shameful about one thing–my addiction to cigarettes. You see, I recently started smoking again after having quit almost 5 years ago.

It started out fairly harmless, a puff of a friend’s cigarette here and there when drinking. . .then a few more puffs. . . then half of a cigarette. . .and then whole ones, but still only on the weekends if I was drinking. . .and then here came the stress of…

View original post 441 more words

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22 Mar 2016

7 Comments

Cleopatra

***UPDATE–Miss Cleo was waiting for me when I got home last night!! She’s got some scabs on a back leg and is hobbling around–she mumbled something about a bar fight–but other than that she seems to be no worse for the wear. Of course she’s grounded, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering her at this point since she’s getting canned food to help her rehydrate. Thanks to everyone for the kind words of support!!

This is my beautiful girl Cleo, short for Cleopatra, because even though she was the runt of the litter, she acted like a queen from the moment she entered our home, so the name fit her perfectly.

She’s my indoor/outdoor cat. I prefer to keep my cats indoors, but there was no keeping this one in! She’s stubborn and has a mind of her own, and absolutely adores being outside except when it’s rainy and really cold. Even with snow on the ground, she will venture out to soak up the sun if it’s shining. If I’m outside, she loves having the company, and will follow me around the yard while I weed flower beds, or lay on the patio table trying to get my attention so I will scratch her head, or give her air kisses.

She weighs in at about 8 lbs, and is petite, but won’t back down from a fight with the other neighborhood cats, which has resulted in a couple of abscesses, and scars on her ears. She keeps Mac, my other cat who is double her size, in line, and loves playing with Simon the dog.

And I miss her. I haven’t see her for almost 7 days.

She sometimes stays out all night when the weather is nice, and last Wednesday, after a 70 degree day, she didn’t want to come in when it was time for me to go to bed, so I left her out. Usually she’s there the next morning and waiting at the door when I put the dog out first thing, but this time she wasn’t.

I still haven’t given up hope she’ll return, but each day I lost a little more. I go to the door still expecting her to be there. I imagine I hear her meowing.

She’s been part of my life for the last 9 years, and I don’t want to let her go. The hardest part is not knowing what’s happened to her.

Posted in Uncategorized

Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Mute Button

Bird Song

Barren Ground

Apprentice Pyromaniac

Battle Wounds

No Succor

New Talent – Beard n Butter

I’m a surly sourpuss and

#BeReal – FAT BOTTOM GIRL

Cleopatra

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