Tag Archives: Comic Poems

Aging, it’s all how you tweak it

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How do you tell the difference between a happy middle aged woman and one who feels used up and left for dead?

  1.  Her calendar has gone from cocktail outings to waxing appointments
  2. She wears an infinity scarf not just cause it will stay put-but to remind her of her longevity
  3. She is not afraid to announce her best friend second to her husband is her regular grocery checker who ties for second with her cat/dog
  4. She talks to her boobs
  5. She has phased out jewelry and phased in expensive undergarments
  6. She openly admits how many sex partners she has had
  7. She is proud to announce the rare occasion she used the recipe from the box
  8. She buys flowers for herself at least once a month completely devoid of any hidden messages to her husband
  9. She works out so she will feel good rather than look good
  10. She sees age-discrimination in the workplace as an opportunity; a second chapter, “how to turn your hobby into cash flow?”

Not So Alone

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The people down below

Have been doused for days;

a proper washing…

Where’s the scrub brush?

A little misting wouldn’t do.

The sunshine, a large kindly dose,

Was sent to warm them fully,

To rebirth their kindness,

To widen their eyes….

To the needs of those hurting,

To remind them,

even beauty can be harsh;

Even Blinding at times,

Why did they not slow….to smile at one another?

Why didn’t they stop to splash about?

I didn’t want to pummel them with non-stop rain,

But they needed to be soaked,

Plastered, sopping, cold to the bone

Look up, take note

You are not so alone

Wordless Confession

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               Wordless Confession

Rotund, blossoms like chestnut halves

Burst forth from her khaki short-shorts, even the squirrels

Would be alarmed, and at her age?

Tight buns peek like perfectly browned morning muffins awaiting butter….

True they are worthy of attention-agreed. 

But let us not steal the light of the newborn, the first meeting of Jesus,

 As he filters moral goodness

Down upon the mid morning darkness of the church.

Light filters through the chapel as tenderly as the waters of blessed salvation

 sprinkle down upon newborn skin

Like an answer to a lingering question.

Hope and eternal redemption are hand in hand with baptism

Bronzed cheeks are hand in hand with string bikinis on a poolside cabana.

How does one compete with a wordless confession

as blatant as this?  

Perhaps she does not know how to pray?

Not THAT Lady!

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Not THAT lady….

Not today, I promised to breathe in only that which fills me.

She does not.  But rather plucks at my strings,

Like a toddler on a ukulele at the three o’clock hour

Head pounding, succumbing to lethargy

The prayers answer would be sleep, instead

I must  splash my face with the proverbial cold water of ettiquette

I pull strength from within, like a belly filled with poetry

The orb teetering on my neck, a glass see-thru skull,

Pulsates like a frog’s thin skin, stretched, puffed, garbled, ribbit!

Like an anxious teller who knew there was something not right.

I cannot pretend to be unaffected,

Her boundaries spill into my comfort zone.

There is a bothersome delivery punctuating her every word

My mantra settles me “stay true, stay true, stay true…”

I beam as if I must’ve seen a baby shrew

The surprise in my voice goes up like a perfect pitch-then smack

The baseball is quickly back down in foul territory

“Hi, I’m in a Huuuuuge hurry, nice to see you”

Life is ticking away, no time for burdened souls

Souls, who cannot feel your presence, souls fueled by Harlequin novels,

When you yourself prefer non-fiction.

But instead, I listened and nodded.