Tag: #Lifesearch Podcast

Helping people find the answers to their questions in daily life. This Podcast corresponds with the Facebook Group Undefeated.

She Fills Me Up

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.

Acid in my Drink

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

I was Eight

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.

Crying Mary

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

Smoke on the Horizon

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?