Poet Introduction Poetry is my voice for change. I have 10 kids with my husband of 20 years. The poetry I write comes from books, movies, and most of all, from my life. Finally squeezed out of me by my nature like a long held breath.
How many men can you count with 10 kids who are on the Red Pill?
How many years do you think an egalitarian feminist can stay married? Can he be an Alpha Male? My husband apparently stands as a proud answer to those questions. He married in a traditional religious culture of patriarchal values. He was ready to provide and protect a domestic goddess. He got me. He adapted.
I didn't ask to be what I am. But when I was a very single religious teenager nobody pegged me as the domestic type. I think some people thought I'd be gay or something. I was always...
YOPJ - Lead Balloons and Shoe Leather Vs Helium and Cake
This problem I'm having lately is completely my fault! I'm stuck in overdrive. Normally I have a slow flow rate to my writing. These days instead, I'm stocking up on extra writing in my draft files while still posting at the upper limits of DU poetry's tolerance. Yet in my brain is stuck SO much more material. I'm literally drowning.
Don't worry; I won't exsanguinate via my pen. I cannot post in blood. It's just dribbles and dribbles of merciful ink, here and there to take to top off my overflowing mental mammary glands.
But in the meantime I am trying to grapple with...
Just a mom and a dad in here." He winked at me. The head count often comes to our door from someone. "So that makes two babies." I busted out - laughing at my lover.
He knows how to say so much with simple jokes and diffuse the tension with an agreeable point. Between us there is much economy of words. We both apologize to each other all the same, but often the idea is, can we speed past this problem like a bullet train or, if we linger, go off the rail and crash spectacularly?
Often I zig when he zags. The result is like a dizzy, two-headed flying dragon...
I'm gonna wear my shoe and my brother's shoe. That will be funny!" She giggled as she slid her other foot into his rain boot. She was standing next to our frequently filling kitchen garbage can, which, although it is a standard size kitchen can, it is about shoulder height for her. It has no lid. When we got it there was one. Kids!
As I'm looking down at her, I'm proud of how she turned her garbage situation into something downright golden. But why must they throw their shoes in the kitchen by the can? Three kids did that. And by the way... why aren't they wearing those when two...
Flowing like a wound, part of the refrigerator refuses to stop flowing orange juice. Fucking hell. I hate fridges, juice, maybe even myself.
Double doors and ample room make this beast like a friend of the family. Like a dirty friend who gets climbed on, slammed, neglected, abused, and opened way too much! Now, I was wiping its wall, but shelves being what they are, it refuses to let me finish wiping up.
"If you just respected the rules and not stick that there ...that wouldn't happen." His words reveal that he is just behind me, his sleepy, observing eyes...
Everywhere I look there are memories." Winter Sunshine said, sadly. "Like over there, where [Songbird] and [Junior] used to often fight."
"But just remember, we have happy memories here, too." I implored, gesturing with my hands, as though I could magically conjure those images. My paws are always swiping the air when I talk, unless I'm on the go, spilling something.
"Would it cost more to move or renovate?" She asked, betraying her idea.
"Way more to move" I chirped, happy to provide the point. "A few grand and this place would be reborn!"
Yeah, we put the cat in the toilet!" Exclaimed one boy.
"We tried to trap him in it but he jumped,out!" The other one explained.
"So at least you weren't killing him" I practically sighed the words out. I had just runhollering down the hall to save my favorite feral buddy and was still a little breathless with the rush of it all. "He really screamed at you. Are you a little nuts!? You could have been scratched."
Knowing the cat found the safety of an open window made me feel better. Too bad we didn't dry him off. I guess he had an interesting tongue bath. ...