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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

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!

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!

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

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.

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.