Calm before March's Art Flurry!


As most of you who are familiar with my work know -- I rarely participate in poetry prompts. But, I can’t help it with regards to the cluster f*ck of brilliant prompts offered up by Bax Law aka @planetbax2.0 on Instagram.  There was something about this list that compelled me to completely hash it out. I’ve never been an early to the party kind of girl. Which basically means, I tend to always do things in my own time – not when everyone is whirling around me in a tornado fashion.  My life has been spent going against the crowd, I’m that person in the background who watches the crowd go by and doesn’t care. I’ve spent most of my life being a black sheep/rebel that simply relishes and appreciates taking the time to really form a foundation with regards to what I do with my poetry. So, with out further ado let’s get started.  Oh, and I have some interesting news that I am going to share on March 1 – if you would like to play along with my funky idiosyncratic prompts courtesy of Bax – check out the announcement page of CCIQ Press.

i stubbed my toe

cloud bubbles meander & form
above my unaware cerebellum
i’m reminded of emotions that render
a pool of blood – under foot
the print lines on the soles of my feet
are completely smooth – all cracks
coated with crimson plasma
an inner pain so unequivocal
it wreaks of torture and annihilation
comprehension at this point
truly makes no sense
how did i allow things to escalate
without the accompaniment
of a silent blood curdling scream?



one foot on tha platform

you know what could be of interest?
the manner in which common words
in our everyday lexicon – bring up other

thoughts in my mind.  for instance,
prior to social media -- i genuinely thought
that the word platform was exclusive

to train/bus stations, and theatrical
or a micro stages ensconced by humans.
given the influx of social media perspective

shifts from an actual brick and mortar
belvedere to a virtual space where
relationships are forged.  the amount

of individuals introduced to us can
be extremely overwhelming – especially
if those we have been kind to back-stab

us -- with a freshly sharpened sabre.  frankly,
i’m genuinely disgusted by many, as the level
of using others has become truly astronomical

when it comes to the commodity of our core.
i honestly, try to be kind to everyone nevertheless
i do not relish the thought of being used for an ear.

humanity has always been my oyster – as lady gaga
says “I’m born this way…” an innate esprit 
determines my ability to help others – never

for a price – as that price should be compassion –
although at times it’s met with a huge glob
of spit on your freshly made fake face.


what’s in the rice cooker?

ever since, i saw the film indiana jones
and the temple of doom – where the eyeball
soup emerged with these perfectly round sheep
optics – floating in the soup. which cultivated 
a thought path, what if i cooked those perfect
irises with some rice and chicken stock
in my rice cooker.  would I end up with pieces
of gelatinous goo in between my teeth.  actually
thinking about that makes me a little green
and not in the jealous kind of way.  but, seriously
think about it – a rice cooker is so interchangeable
the number of meals that could be prepared
is truly – unlimited – even if you decide
to pursue a gross course of action.


i saw jimmy tha other day

my first real job was at cullen country barns,
it was genuinely one of my favourite
places on this globe. there were so many
whimsical departments – i remember
the first time i entered the rumpus room

i had noticed this little platform that housed
these tiny tracks. i was honestly puzzled?!
i had no idea what they were doing there
but, as in the fashion when there is smoke
there is fire.  after about 5 minutes, logic  

did not fail, a micro train appeared and drove
the entire circumference of the massive
showcase room.  my post was not vacant
from that space, i desired to work in the arts
& crafts department. i was quite appreciative

for that job, as i was properly taught
how to create ribbon roses, and MASSIVE
puffy lush velvet bows with 2-inch ribbon,
in addition to how to create and properly
cut glass sheets for stained glass creations.

as robin williams said in dead poet’s society
“thank you mr. perry for this stroll down
amnesia lane.” i’ve honestly not thought
of that place for a very long time. the long
of the short of it is – i learned a plethora

of interchangeable skills at $8.04 per hour.
with my first pay-cheque i opened a bank
account and proceeded to the “it store.”
there i found the piece that i truly desired.
i’d been OBSESSED with james dean

for truly the longest time.  and, what i’d
found made me so gleeful.  it was a james
dean watch with a black and white image
held together with a metallic stretchy band.
i wore this watch through battery changes

until it died. it was the first show of independence
that I’d experienced. with my very own funds.


the BREAD ain’t the SHOWER terry

hmm, bread and showers 
– sounds like a land
of the lost 
type 
of 

p
r
o
p
o
s
a
l
.  

that honestly radiates 
of something the mad hatter 
woulds say with these
ever present 
bread-and-butterflies. 

i suppose 
– one could create 
a loaf of massive
proportions in the shower 
– or perhaps a shower
ensconced by a tub.  

i would recommend
you proceed with such a course
of action -- that you bleach the tub
first.  no one wants soap scum 
adorned bread. 

once the house keeping 
has been tended to – start with the yeast 
the usual 2 ¼ teaspoons
would not do in this instance.

time for calculating, 
honestly my least 
favourite thing -- ever. 
luckily, one day, 
while in wonderland, 
the hatter enclosed
his recipe for thimble 
tub bread.  

as ridiculous as it sounds
he actually had one present 
hiding between the fabric panels 
in his chapeau studio.  

i’ll let you know 
how that the experiment fairs.  
but for now,
just keep mixing 
the sticky dough together 
– don’t forget to coat extra 
flour on your hands – much is required.


it was 12:51 pm

i’m going to take liberties
with this one
and flip
the pm
to am.

it was 12:51 am
when my water broke.
i was EXTREMELY pregnant
and frightened.
never had i ever
experienced something
similar in my life.

one minute,
i’m on the bed,
all of a sudden
something that sounded
like a crack
or snap
made its presence
known.

it was weird,
the sound was terrifying,
my first pregnancy. 
i’d been extremely
alarmed.

i mean, when one
hears about the water
of others breaking
one genuinely
doesn’t associate any sounds
to it – besides screaming
in the delivery room.


Todd licked it, that’s a fact

at the age of 2 ½, i landed in montreal
after being ensconced by an insane

amount of bloodshed.  the cold left
me feeling as though i had just been

dipped in icy cold water.  “this is the kind
of cold you read about in a dicken’s novel.”

as once said by paris in gilmore girls.
when i heard that statement – years ago

it carried my memories decades back
when my first experience of canada

was the constant overflow of snow
in montreal. i was repeatedly told

while in lebanon we could be present
in the warm of the sun and water

in the am and by the pm in the mountains
surrounded by stockpiled feet of snow.

on one of those occasions, i don’t
remember as i was only two and

my memories are ever present by 3,
nothing before. nevertheless, the story

of the mountain is seared in my brain
as we required an extension cord

and hair dryer.  the little boys name
was not todd, but for this example

we’ll keep the name. outside
of the chalet there was a flagpole

that flew the lebanese flag. and i’m
sure, you can guess what happened

next?! let’s put it this way, todd
had no taste buds for the longest time

as the hairdryer did not work.  in a moment
of frustration todd, jerked his head

back and half the skin on this tongue
was adhered to the flagpole.  ice cream

would never be the same again.


The Glove

i spent my time in college
advocating for hiv/aids awareness
prevention. which at times

included discussions
with teens who found
the concept of sex as convoluted.

back then, everyone was scared
of hiv/aids as it genuinely meant
a death sentence.  i can’t believe

how much ignorance was attached
to the common knowledge associated
with hiv/aids that individuals ignored.

we separated the teens into two
groups. we all know that an abstinence
approach may not be as favoured

as a harm reduction.  it was honestly
in our favour to speak to them
about safe sex.  we had condoms

and taught both groups how
to properly apply them. the anatomically
correct sample scared the teens,

in lieu of that we used a deodoriser
spray.  everyone laughed, as i showed
the girls how to properly apply one.

but, i did not have a strong
grasp on the cylinder and when
the lid fell off dramatically – i said

"oops, the head fell off!" the entire
room erupted in both simultaneous
comfort and laughter.


Hey Amy, where’d you get the eyes

“You're going to a very dangerous place, so be careful.
The thing that slumbers there, it is not human.”
~ The Faun warning Ofelia of the Pale Man.
                Pan’s Labyrinth

the wonderful aspect, optics
reveal within themselves – not simply
multi-hued irises but also a sinister

agenda. how difficult is it, to listen
to those, who have come before you?
who consistently warn you of the inhumanity

that generally surrounds our ugly verity.
when you are given a task on a perilous journey
be wise and resist what is offered to you –

especially if it feels infinitely blackhearted.
abuse of a situation can often result to injury
but in this case – once the eyes of the pale man

were adhered to his hands -- it was simply
the finale for the fairies. now made visible
in part due to the positions of the eyes

and pure seven deadly sin worthy – greed.


12 nuggets 4 the price of 9

you know,
it’s remarkable
the resistance
one receives

from
their
children

when a meal
is prepared
with the same protein
but, is rejected
as it’s whole,
not battered
and fried.


silence

seriously?!
why don’t you just
shut the f*ck up?!

i’m genuinely frustrated
with humans who emit
the aura of i will just stand
and simply watch the globe
revolve around me.

i’m sorry to inform
you, humans house
tender emotions
that honestly require  
support along side
a healthy dose
of recognition.

i’ve rarely understood
humans who behave
in a fashion that renders
their mind exclusively
far up their anal sphincter
which completely binds
them to literal crap.

i honestly try not to judge
others, internationally
there is no one immune
to pain.  which is why,
you should probably
remain… my title!


where are we?

d
r
a
m
a
t
i
c

  d
      r
         o
             p

forget the rabbit hole
or helping hands at the ready
to allow you to fall

remember,
self sustainability
within the core
of who you truly are

is where you will seek
nourishment – humans
consistently ask

“how did i get here?”

well, honestly,
you got there all by yourself.
chain links of shattered
individuals – death
at the tips of your toes

when individuals
see narcissistic traits
in others – they are deflecting
their true self – a strong
refusal to comprehend
it’s not everyone else’s
problem – it’s really yours.

in constant search
of solace i am – comprehension
of increased drama damages
ones essence piece-by-piece
like a fresh puzzle piece 
that has been pushed
off the table – for no other
reason except that you can.

how many broken shards
will you allow to fall –
when all you had to do
was be a little less
selfish.

you got here all on your own
yes, you suffered i can’t deny
that but there is a difference
between – permission
to allow the cycle to break
or keep at it, although it’s wrong.
this is the land of desolation
a destination travelled
with many prints –
that’s exactly
where we
are!


I stubbed my toe, Part II

between the antagonist
and protagonist –
who’s dangerous?

each would react
differently to a stubbed toe –
the antagonist would
blame all that had been
endured throughout
the course of their life
as negativity seems
to fuel them in a fashion
that could lead to catastrophic
extinction level events

now, if you take a look
at the protagonist – usually
the pain is used as a cathartic
release to prove there are methods
of improvement one could pursue
if they simply allowed themselves
to forgive.

mind you, as our world
truly is dark and twisty
definitely riddled with dante’s
nine circles of hell – choice
is ever present.

evil can find its place in good
and good does equally
have the potential for evil.

when a toe is stubbed
the sear from the pain
is evident – as in life

“we are all capable of good
and bad, no matter which side
of the barrier we come from.”

as said by mal
in d3


The Tea Party PART 15

i’ve spent the majority
of my life being a critically
selective individual.

company i keep is reserved
for genuine cores – that not only
challenge my thoughts
but also, my soul.

my tea party
would consist of villains
and heroes – together

in discovery of why
certain humans end up
the way that they do

stories that formulate
inside of your dna
do not always dictate

who is good and bad.
someone born to immense
love could pursue

a chain of destructive
events – colour, orientation,
race, ignorance – doesn’t
automatically dictate
who you become.


Fuckin’ Free for all. Let it out fuckers.

i used to hold back my notes,
it was the biggest injustice
i’ve ever exposed myself to.

same goes for writing,
there is always etiquette
that holds individuals back

regardless of back lash.
listen, i don’t expect
most people to like me –

as they don’t as i am opinionated,
with a well honed moral
compass who can see

the good in the darkest
of souls.  but when
the essence row

is riddled with narcissists
and sociopaths
there really is no other

choice but to take
a deep breath
open your mouth

and hit that high note
two octaves above
middle c.  those who

don’t relish honesty
and live in the faux fur
will never discuss authenticity

as they will never understand
what it means to be one
with pure depth – the type

of crevice that can hold
all the MASSIVE size
emotions we have to grow

serious balls to explore.

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