Showing posts with label November PAD Chapbook Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label November PAD Chapbook Challenge. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

I Eat Myself

  

Free use image by Christian Dorn on Pixabay

There is no calm at the eye of this hurricane

 I attempt to be stoic while confronting the fiasco

Of fools who think it is their duty to command in patronizing voices

That I oughtn’t to overeat

When I am sitting at the table

Minding my own business while having a cup of gelato

I am not given to overeating or veisalgia these days

I do not enjoy the feeling of having overdone things

But despite my tendency to moderation, which is no-one’s business but my own

People who don’t even know me take it upon themselves

To be throwing their derision in my direction

Because I dare to exist in public while fat

And even to eat where I can be seen sometimes

I try to stand sturdy like an ilex

I try to bear up under the heat like irons in a fire

I try to add a ferrule of positive thinking to my arsenal of weapons

But I can feel the whirlwind of self-loathing brewing in my psyche

Turning my soul indigo in the face of disdain known all too well

There will be no waterfall of tears

I learned long ago not to cry

But the desire to destroy myself surfaces in my soul

The need to vomit up all I eat rises in my gullet

The self-loathing starts to consume me, and I wish I could eat myself from within

Nibble myself down bit by bit until I disappear

I once wanted to be pretty

Now I just want to be invisible

I can rail about the fact that my body betrayed me

My endocrine system went awry

Fat is what I am

Regardless of what I eat or how little

Though I damn well should not have to feel beholden to explain such things

And nor should anybody else

When you see a fat person that you don’t know

You can say hello with a genuine smile in your voice

Just like you would say to someone you wanted to fuck

Now, wasn’t that easy?

No need to moralize anyone’s body or food intake or appearance

No need to make anybody feel

As if they should eat themselves until they waste away

~cie~

369 words

prompts used

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-4


https://myjustsostory.blogspot.com/2020/11/words-for-wednesday.html

note
The brand spankin' new Weekly Scribblings badge was created at http://pixlr.com by me using a free use image by Pencil Parker on Pixabay.

Here are links to the definitions of the lesser-known words appearing in the poem.

Veisalgia

Ilex

Ferrule

Want more fat, angry poetry?
Get it here!


This poem was posted to these places:


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Monday, December 2, 2019

Battle of the Poems 2019: Day 1

Image by Andrew Martin from Pixabay

The rules are simple! Leave a comment telling me which poem you like best.

Poem 1:
Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time
I dreamed
once upon a time
he was
but now there's nothing left
except the misery
as summer disappears
and the barkers burst the colorful balloons
and take down the faire
players only love you
when you bring them money
gas, grass, or ass
no-one rides for free
little boys grow up
become corrupt
use and throw away
stupid girls
once upon a time
I believed in something
once upon a time
I thought someone waited for me
now I know the truth
the only one waiting 'round the corner
to put his arms around me
is death
that no matter where I am
I'm just two steps ahead of that man
some days I'm philosophical
some days I'm scared out of my fucking mind
and some days I'd welcome the bastard
with open arms
once upon a time
you were mine
you loved this wretched, broken thing
but like a leaf on the breeze you blew away
some things are too corrupted to love 
I thought I saw you coming back to me
but then I woke from my dream
the fairytale disappeared
in a puff of smoke
like Little Jackie Paper
you snuffed out your dreams of Puff
dragons aren't real
magic only exists in fairy tales
and love is nothing but a lie
once upon a time
I believed in happy ever after
now I only believe
that dreams vanish
and hearts break
and
everything
dies

~

Poem 2
Alpha to Omega

all alone adrift
boiling bad blood brew
chewing cyanide capsules
drinking death's draught
exhaling exotic excitotoxins
feeling fancy-free
gladly grabbing green
hoarding hazy hemlock
incinerating incriminating images
jaded joy juxtaposed
kicking kaleidoscopic kings
love long lost
makes me mad
nothing nice nevermore
only old offerings
placate pagan poltergeists
quietly quaffing quince
rebellious rogues repel
sweetly singing satyrs
thrilling tap-dancing troubadours
unique undines undulate
vanquishing vicious villains
while winsome warblers
xor xanthic xenophobes
yesterday's yearning youth
zap zingy Zambonis

Which one do you choose? One or two? You can leave an explanation, or just say which one you like.

Remember, whoever participates the most often will receive a $5 Amazon gift card. In the event of a tie, I will invoke the mighty coin, dice, or what have you.

~Cie~

Sunday, December 1, 2019

We're back!

What Lunch Looked Like

How y'all am are? I was not expecting to be back so soon, but, as fate would have it, I'm here and so are you! So, let's do this!

After spending a freezing night without power in the old Grover Hotel, the Ornery Old Lady (that's me) and Sonny Boy headed to Greeley to gather up some supplies in case we were looking at another night to a week or more of this. We stopped at Taco John's, a place I haven't been to in some 35 years. In fact, that's where I made my last post from!

I was glad to find that Taco John's still tastes the same, but the price about knocked me out of the ballpark. Twenty bucks for a chicken quesadilla, a stuffed taco, Potato Ole's, drinks, and some guacamole, queso, and sour cream. Honestly, it's not that bad for today's prices, but I can remember when I was in high school and would go to Taco John's instead of eating the cafeteria swill. I'd have five bucks on me and get a whole meal and still get change back. Well, so it goes.

We went to Home Depot and bought a propane-powered space heater and looked into getting a backup generator. We picked up a snow shovel, which I thought was steel. It was aluminum and it bent easily. Not a winner there. We got a flashlight and a mini lantern. Then we headed to visit my son's second cousins on his father's side. They said that if the power was going to be out for a while, we could bring the cats and stay with them.

We hit the King Soopers to get some nonperishables like crackers and tinned kippers and then headed for home.

My son was reading the instructions for the space heater and I was getting the snow shovel out of the car when he came running out in an excited mood. The power was back on! I looked down the street to see the blinking red light just beyond the general store, and it never looked so beautiful!

It's still colder than a well-digger's ass in the old Hotel, but the furnace is back on and the temperature is rising. I've got salmon, potatoes, and corn in the oven. I also have (I hope) a fun opportunity.

I am going to need help deciding which poems to put in my manuscript for the November PAD Chapbook Challenge. So, for the next month, I will be having a Battle of the Poems. I will put up two poems, and I would like readers to decide which of the two they prefer. You can give me a reason, or just say "I like number (one or two) best." 

There will be a prize as an incentive for helping me. 

The person who comments on the most poems will receive a $5 Amazon gift card in their email. In the event that there is a tie, I will use a coin, dice, or Random Number Generator to help me choose.

I think this will be fun, and I hope I can get a few people to play along.

The first Battle of the Poems will appear tomorrow!

~Cie~


Friday, November 29, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 29: Have iPhone, Will Travel

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Have iPhone
Will travel
I've never seen the Northern Lights
I'd like to get them in my sights
To watch their ghostly green glow
As they put on their show
See them dance across the sky
And if I could fly
I'd like to dance into their beams
And leap from stream to stream

Have iPhone, honey
But no money
So I won't be going far
In my beat-up car
But when my beat-up body ceases to run
I'll go and have my fun
I'll ride on the green glow
Who knows how far I'll go?
Dancing in the Northern Lights
I'll become one with the night

~Cie~

Notes:
The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt for today was Have (blank.) 
This poem came out of nowhere. I just wrote it down.

Thursday, November 28, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 28: Grateful

Image by Matthias Cooper from Pixabay

grateful for what's here
a town far from everything
life in an old house
impossible dreams fade out
bittersweet acceptance in

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt asked for a Gratitude poem.

People, you know me. I am not the sort to write heartwarming, Chicken Soup for the Soul, grateful for God and family and Better Homes and Gardens type poetry. I am an agnostic curmudgeon, and the only miracle here is that I'm still alive. They ain't found a way to kill me yet, and neither have I. I believe there is something that survives the death of the corporeal body, and I believe there are advanced spiritual forces which could be termed higher powers. I don't like the Church God, and although I'm willing to judge his followers on a case by case basis, I tend to be mightily skeptical of them.

I was raised Catholic and am the black sheep of a family that tried way too hard to keep up appearances. Today is the ninth anniversary of my father's passing. Although we had a sometimes contentious relationship and he passed his own insecurities down to me, he was a devoted father and I love him. I am glad he isn't suffering anymore. The last five years of his life were increasingly difficult. In the end, he really wasn't himself anymore.

I want to call my mother today. My mother is a loyal person who is too wrapped up in keeping up appearances to see the damage that mindset does. She has no idea who I actually am or what I'm really doing because anytime I have tried to tell her, she shuts me down and criticizes me, so I just let her think what she wants.

My brother and I were once the greatest of friends but now have a civil but distant relationship. 

I love my son with all my heart and soul. There are some hurts from the past from when my mental illness was as yet undiagnosed and my behavior was chaotic.

Leonard Cohen wrote the line "It's Father's Day and everybody's wounded."

I think the same could be said for most holidays.

If you're having a Better Homes and Gardens Thanksgiving, that's great, and I hope you enjoy it. I would just ask that you realize that this is not the case for everyone, and those of us who are unable to have Shiny Happy Holidays are not bad people or just feeling sorry for ourselves for attention. The hurt is real.



Just to lighten the load a bit, here's one of my favorites:

Wednesday, November 27, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 27: Acrostic for Angie

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

All alone adrift
Nothing nice nevermore
Going, going, gone
Intwining imaginative intricacies
Envisioning elusive eternity

Boiling bad blood brew
Love long lost
Unquiet undying urges
Escaping exotic eyes

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked participants to take one or more of the poems they'd created for the challenge previously and remix them. I took my day 2 abecedarian poem Alpha to Omega and my day 7 free verse poem Angie Blue and turned them into an acrostic using the first letters of Angie Blue.
I'm probably not going to share this poem at the November PAD Chapbook Challenge post because it only makes sense to me. Angie Blue is a poem inspired by various songs that I learned to love as a young teenager in the late 1970s.

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 26: A Limerick for John


J. Geils went through diamonds and minks
He had the blues, the reds, and the pinks
He revealed the truest truth
I knew it back in my youth
The only thing for sure is love stinks

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge was to write a love poem. Well, if you know me at all, you know what I think about that. So I wrote this limerick in honor of the one who said it best about love, the late, great J. Geils. (20 February 1946 - 11 April 2017)

Sunday, November 24, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge Day 24: A Dialogue


you had my heart
I only wanted a hookup
you should have said so
you took the chance
you shouldn't lie
you should be more careful who you trust
you should be ashamed
but you're the one who is
how can you be so heartless?
it's your fault for thinking with your heart
why do you think cruel is cool?
I'm not the one sitting home crying
you're a miserable liar
you're the one who feels like dying
I did everything you wanted
and now I'll find someone else to do the same
you are the worst
but I won't take the blame
you are the lowest
but you carry the shame

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a dialogue poem. I had this terrible conversation all too many times in my younger days when my self-esteem was at its worst and I let bad guys do terrible things to me in the vain hope that they would love me back. Being the cold-hearted bitch that I get accused of being when I rebuff the advances of jerks who think I should consider myself lucky that they're paying attention to me is far better than being broken-hearted and feeling used.

Saturday, November 23, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge Day 23: Dear Dryer Hose Manufacturer


Dear Dryer Hose Manufacturer,
In the box I found
A dryer hose
Two tension clamps
And instructions that told me
To not use the tension clamps
But instead, use two worm drive clamps
Not included in this box
Why would you do this?

~Cie~

Note:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write an instructional poem. I re-interpreted the prompt in order to write a love letter about some very baffling instructions.

Friday, November 22, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 22: Mr. Perfect (Tanka)

Image by Jonny Lindner from Pixabay

he's honed his image
everything is perfection
on point tip to toe
such a perfect gentleman
until he takes off the mask

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook challenge asked for a poem about Mr. (blank). So I wrote about the kind of guy who has the perfect image but behind the mask lurks a monster. I've known a few of these guys.

I am finally caught up with the November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompts!

November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 21: The Traveler: A Senryu

Image by Reimund Bertrams from Pixabay

I travel away
to worlds distant from my own
where I find myself

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a Travel poem. Here is mine.

Thursday, November 21, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 20: Light Blitz

Image by Johannes Plenio from Pixabay

light the night
light my fire
fire of passion
fire of hell

hell hath no fury
hell hath no remorse
remorse for what's said
remorse for what's done

done to death
done and gone
gone like yesterday
gone in a flash

flash and dash
flash of light
light the way
light the night

night without dreams
night without end
end of the world
end of everything

everything ends
everything dies
dies like your love
dies like my dreams

dreams of yesterday
dreams of tomorrow
tomorrow never comes
tomorrow comes too soon

soon the sun rises
soon the night falls
falls from the heavens
falls to its death

death is the end
death is the beginning
beginning of a new chapter
beginning of a new tale

tale whispered in darkness
tale too ticklish to tell
tell me a lie
tell me the truth

truth is subjective
truth will set you free
free falling
free to run

run from the past
run from the pain
pain holds on forever
pain colors all

forever...
all...

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a Light poem. So, I did a Light Blitz. It turned out kind of heavy, though.

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 17 + Words for Wednesday: Bullying Hurts for a Lifetime

Image copyright Bill Dodds

Image Copyright Bill Dodds

strange child
playing by yourself again
how do you expect anyone to be your friend
when you're such a peculiar thing
too shy to look anyone in the eye
exploring alone on a Saturday
wishing the Lord your soul would take
sometime on Sunday night
before Monday rolls around
and you're back at school
with the pretty boys and girls 
who bully you mercilessly
after years of being taunted
your inquisitive spirit stagnates
lying dormant in the graveyard of your heart
as you attempt to pacify
your restless, wounded soul
with substances
and false love
and other lies you tell yourself
to get through another day

~Cie~


Notes:
The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write a Health poem. So, I chose to write about how bullying impacted my mental health, not just in childhood but throughout my entire life. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me is horseshit. I have been both physically and psychologically abused. I would say that not all of the scars are visible, but given another thought, yes, they all are. 

A friend who is on the autism spectrum pointed out that there are a lot of people who say that they would never make fun of a person with autism. However, those same people will gladly make fun of a "weirdo" who doesn't "act normally." 

When I was bullied in school, my family would tell me that I needed to "stop being so weird" and then the other kids would accept me. I allowed people to do terrible things to me in the hopes of being accepted. 

If you have been bullied or abused, you are not the one to blame even though you are the one who carries the pain. 

I still feel like nobody hears me or will ever hear me. But I will never again let anyone use me as their punching bag or for their sick perversions. Abuse is not love.

Please do me a favor and don't tell me that you hope this poem isn't autobiographical. It is. It is my reality. It is my truth. 

I created the Words for Wednesday badge using Pixlr. 

Tuesday, November 19, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 15: In the Middle Of a Never-Ending Tanka


I find that I am
right smack-dab in the middle
of an unwanted
mental breakdown--big surprise
here we go round and round and...

~Cie~

Notes:
The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write a "middle" poem. Say, what serendipity this is! I find myself in the middle of one of the worst mental breaks I've had in a while. Yee-hah!

Sunday, November 17, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 12: Form

Image by Elizabeth Thomas from Pixabay

you
can't force
me to adhere
to a prescribed form
I'm totally a
free spirit
Fuck!

~Cie~

Note:
The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write a form poem or anti-form poem. I've been doing a lot of heavy lifting in my poetry recently, so I wanted to just have fun with this one.

By the way, YouTube can kiss my butt with it's new stopping the music to check and see if I'm still listening bullshit. Bitch, I have the music on while I'm writing or sleeping and I like it like that. I don't want to have to check in with you. I want to let the damn music play.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 11: Prime Time Pantoum

Image by methodshop from Pixabay

Trying to model my life
To be more like the pretty people
Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows
Is an exercise in futility

To be more like the pretty people
I try to hate myself into conformity
Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows
A destructive, soul-stealing dream

I try to hate myself into conformity
Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows
A destructive, soul-stealing dream
Is an exercise in futility

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asks participants to write a "prime" poem. I chose the phrase "prime time" and the Pantoum form. 

Saturday, November 16, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 10: Tyranny of Perfection


so I got to thinking
what if Death 
isn't a grim dude in a black hood
but is instead
an annoyingly perfect and perfectionistic
aerobics instructor
who chirps at you
that it's time to do your cardi-oh-oh
and when you do those leg lifts
you've gotta squeeze those glutes
because if you don't squeeze 'em
no-one else will
and I kind of got to thinking
what if I don't want my life
to revolve around whether or not
some dudebro wants to
play grab-ass with me
and then that chipper death
chirped at me that I
need to mind my carbs and calories
because fat is the very worst thing
that a person can possibly be
and then I got to thinking
that maybe that's not true
that in fact the worst thing a person
can possibly be
is a sanctimonious twat
who refuses to respect
other people's lives and conditions and preferences
and bodily autonomy
and who really can just fuck off
and then I got to wondering 
if maybe that's the way Death works
is by annoying people to death
by making them fight all day every day
with vicious inner voices
that tell them they're no good
because they have dimpled thighs
or chunky butts
or saggy boobs
or tummy rolls
or they just aren't perky-werky enough
and then I got to thinking 
that maybe what happens
is people get tired 
of hearing Death's annoying voice
bleating at them to get up and at 'em
because nobody who isn't perfect
deserves to have a life
and so they smash the snooze bar
on their internal clock
one too many times
in an attempt to shut the annoying bitch up
once and for all

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a (blank) of (blank) poem. I initially went with "hands of time," which is how I found the image of the perky aerobics instructor looking lady with her watch. I started thinking about all the years and time and money I spent trying to hate myself thin, and it really pissed me off that the message people (especially women) are sent from the moment we draw breath isn't "take care of yourself because you are worthwhile regardless of your size or looks," it's "if you girls aren't thin and pretty in a very specific way, you are garbage and don't deserve happiness." 

So, I changed the title of my poem to Tyranny of Perfection and wrote about what it feels like to fight with the hateful internal dialogue that has been crammed down my throat for as long as I can remember. It would be nice to be able to just BE, without having to fight with these horrible messages from the cradle to the grave. Doing so is the biggest fucking waste of time and a waste of a perfectly good life too.












November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 9: Senryu: Reflection

Image by James Wheeler from Pixabay

bright lights and glamour
shining city in my sights
I don't belong there

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write a reflection poem. I reflected on my one-time desire to live a glamorous life among the hoi-polloi before realizing that fake people make me utterly miserable and I would never have fit in.