If you smell happy
I’ll kiss you once.
If you are full of merriment
I’ll kiss you twice.
if you are filled to the brim with a joyful facade
I’ll devour your drink ’til my soul is overcome with delight!
Helping people find the answers to their questions in daily life. This Podcast corresponds with the Facebook Group Undefeated.
If you smell happy
I’ll kiss you once.
If you are full of merriment
I’ll kiss you twice.
if you are filled to the brim with a joyful facade
I’ll devour your drink ’til my soul is overcome with delight!
The beauty of a daffodil
lies in my Mother’s hands.
Mom’s palm
is fast to calm any grief.
Mom’s passing went so fast and so slow
but silently none the less.
Oh God, my dear God, how do I make it through this.
I have my Mom’s hands; they make daisies beautiful.
Away above the clouds she dwelled
until slumber I took.
In her left hand, she grasped a plain, wooden bowl
In her right, an ornate, porcelain vase.
In dark, I slept in terrors as her lengthy arms fell from the sky
Grasping the bowl down my throat, she scooped me out.
Misery, we shared.
But, as the day began to creep back in,
her magical potions of clear, cool water caressed me through with joy and jubilation. Dig me deep and fill me up, my wise, wizened Mother.
Is it the left hand or the right tonight?
Like every night, it’s both.
I drank a cup of poison today
opened her up and slewed her down.
And, all of the folk who wished me harm,
regretted there wishes and were over come with a mass of frowns.
I said I drank a cup of poison today
would have eaten it if I could
But, I knew that drink was all my tummy would take,
Otherwise, gnashing I would.
You drank some, too, my dear ones
And, agreed that it’s better than guns…
except in a true duel
Striking matches to enlighten a room
Shadows blur on the wall.
The flame having no shadow
enlightens your mind.
Cannot breathe
Sheets smell of a two day continuous fart gala
Eeeww!…He flicked a booger on me that he had balled up like a balloon.
I have become a waste can for fresh, newly picked boogers.
How do you get raped while the rapist picks his nose?
You remember the punishment that will befall you next time Mom and dad are away.
Between the tears and his sweat your Tweey Bird nightie is drenched and a full breath is impossible.
He’s so scrawny yet feels like a boulder on your chest.
Rolling off of me, he does a gymnastic type dance and is on the floor.
“Get out of my bed, slut” he remarks in a sneering yet comical way,
but you can still get the hint that he means business.
I was eight.
My heart is just a hot mess!
Why so, you could hardly guess!
Men tore it in two.
leaving me to boo hoo!
Now, I am learning to love me first.
She’s a no good harlot!
She’s possessed with evil intent.
She paints her face and wears improper clothes.
But, the winds scream Mary.
Why is she this way?
No one but she and her God know what happened to her.
One act of kindness from the Right Person-
She is healed.
And, the wind whispered Mary
My Catholic named is Mary Magdalene.
I know her pain and see through the lies.
Her invisible scars speak to me.
And, I cry MARY!
*giant nod to Jimi
Curling my fingers around you like a Twizzler in my hand,
Chewing off the top and bottom carefully as not to be noticed.
A deep inhale brings a sigh of relief and a pang of worry.
You infiltrating my lungs as if long lost friends,
Sighing out the vapor is bittersweet-I don’t want to say goodbye but I want to say hello again and again and again…
How will I stop;
When will it end?
Book of my Mother’s
a classic fete
rhymes of ancient times.
Story within stories
filled with conflict and allegory.
Your olden ghost emerges and beckons me
“Come visit me for awhile…just for a sip or two.”
And, I wander to the novel in a trance,
sit down on the couch, and drink it in.
Then, I smell my dinner burning.