Flamingo Dance

You’re a certain kind of Asshole
One that has no idea what he wants
You travel to the only beat you know
Your ideas are all you have to flaunt

Your pretty feathers are just a rouge
Underneath you are prickly and tough
How can you sleep knowing what you do?
When will the pain you cause be enough?

You preach about how good you are
You boast about the love you feel
As you flirt with others from a far
While demanding that your love is real

You remind me of a flamingo
Confidently dancing around
Everything you do is just for show
Please put your head in the ground

You find joy in teasing those around you
You think it’s fun to play with people’s feelings
You never consider the pain you put them through
Or try to help them with some healing

You skirt around the hard questions
Knowing full well what is being asked of you
You stay “reserved” from beginning to end
All the while looking for something new

You remind me of a flamingo
Confidently dancing around
Everything you do is just for show
Please put your head in the ground

You have stayed too long in this place
Your song has been played too many times
Your heart is missing, nothing is left in its place
And all the lies you tell have combined

Take your one-legged form away from here
As pretty as you may seem
Your ugliness is not appreciated dear
For your abuse, there is just no need

You remind me of a flamingo
Confidently dancing around
Everything you do is just for show
Please put your head in the ground
Please just put your head in the ground and stay there

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Waking up at Night

I am staying at one of my girlfriends houses tonight.  Being that I am still officially homeless, my friends have been putting me up when I need a bed to sleep in.  So, I’m crashing for the night in her daughter’s room,  on her daughter’s trundle-bed.  I’d been asleep for a couple of hours when I heard the noises.  I wasn’t to sure what was going on.  Then Erica (my friends 12-year-old) started muttering frantically, “oh god, oh god, Oh no!  What do I do?”   This of course and the rancid smell that has now started to seep into my nostril bring my eyes to their “ON” position and I finally check out the scene at hand. 

“What is wrong Erica?” I asked as I sat up in bed.  What I thought was going to be the,  “Auntie I think I just got my period!” conversation, quickly turned much uglier.  

“You don’t want to know?” Erica responds.

I should have known to just roll over at this point and go back to sleep.  But, being that I’m not her mother, I am not so well-trained in the field of Midnight wake-up drama.  So,  I snicker a bit, as I am still trying to focus in the darkness.  I try to get some sense of where Erica is in the room,  because I can tell from her voice that she is no longer in her bed. 

“What’s going on?” I ask impatiently.  When suddenly the lights tragically get thrown on, only to reveal the true horror of my sweet girly free hotel room for the night. 

There is a pile of yellow vomit with chunks of what looks like chicken, noodles, onions, and peppers inching its way towards me.  It was about 20 inches long and 10 inches wide.  It started on her mattress where it was seeping down the side onto the box-springs and through the wood joints that made up her bed frame.  It mostly poured onto the floor; however, some of it glided into her bed drawer and pooled amongst her clean PJ’s.

  She had somehow managed to get a good spray of  puke amongst most of her half of the room. There was drops of what I would refer to as “Raindrop vomit”  on her computer, her stuffed animals, some of her blankets, pillow, desk chair, the toys on the floor under her desk, a box she stored things in, her desk legs, side of her desk, and even the top of her desk were sprayed with the special rain. 

I told Erica to go get in the shower, as she just sort of stood there all pale-faced and stunned.  As I set out to find some towels.  It took four hand towels, a vacuum, a puke bucket for myself and about 45 mins to clean up the Barf-o-rama that reminded me of that part in Stand By Me.   I filled up my friends washing Machine with all my rags and the vomit saturated bedding and Pj’s.  All the while I kept puking myself because I am not used to this kind of smell at all.  I would start wiping things down and have to run out of the room with my hand pressed against my mouth.  As if that would somehow fix the problem if I was really going to hurl.  Erica came back finally and crawled back into the stench that is now her room.  I was able to find her fresh sheets and she had a blanket that had not been puked on.  she was fast asleep in a matter of minutes.  However, I sit here traumatized by the event.  Remembering a Barf-fest of my own when I was her age.  But, mine included spaghetti and my Nana’s bed.  The two  biggest thing that stood out for me that night were the noodles in my hair and how to me, they looked the same as my hair.  And my Nana and how very angry she was with me.  I just wanted Erica to feel comfortable tonight,  I hope I accomplished that.  I want to go back to sleep now too; but, Oh My It smells so bad in that room.

 I think I might find a new place to crash next time.  Oh well just another day in my life…. actually, another night.  Just another vomit filled night in my life.

Johnny You Bum

Johnny you Bum I loved you so
I would have followed you out the classroom door
All those many moons ago

I’ve loved the times we’ve had
The hours of conversations we’ve shared
All the nights I stayed with you in your pad

Wine-Barrel Hot tubs, Turn-about and parents
Mr. Stevenson for Geography
I had no idea what I was learning with him

Cruising San Francisco with the sunroof open
Trying to make a pipe from a kit-kat wrapper
“Big Girls Don’t cry” sang the homeless woman

Johnny you Bum, you always leave me behind
As you travel all over with your love
Coming home only to taste the wine

Let’s chain smoke through the south
While counting all the churches
You’ll sleep on the floor and I’ll sleep on the couch

Let’s see how many hotel rooms we can see
While clubbing our way around Memphis
Yes, I’ll have my eggs cooked over-easy

Here’s to the sights we’ve seen
The paddle boats, sky scrapers
All the Gay bars in every city

You are the bum Johnny, so funny and clever
You seem to drag me along with you everywhere
Even with Your love, paddling us down the river

I’m sure you’ll forget about me like you did before
Cussing you out in front of hundreds of rednecks
Or as the Taxi pulls me up to your New York door

We have seen it all, you and me
Monuments to our dead, full Rainbows
Cross-Dressing Bitches and Bourbon Street

Throughout all the years, and all the years to come
I will keep following you across the sea
Just keep inviting me, Johnny you Bum!

Binding Me

You shut the closet door
The binds were locked inside
You told me there was more in store
This was why I should stay behind

Take this blindfold off of me
Take these ties off my wrests
This is when I choose to see
The life is that I have missed

Keep me hidden if you want
Keep me locked up far away
Keep on hoping for what I’m not
Keep on pretending that I might stay

I’ve ripped out from under your hold
I’ve taken over my destiny
You hopped I would do as I was told
With your ties that encompassed me

You try to muzzle my loud mouth
You try to stop my voice
All your dreams are heading south
It was never once your choice

You can try to lock that closet again
You can try to throw away the key
You can pretend that it will never end
You can keep trying to bind me

Let’s Talk About This

Let’s talk about the weather
Tell me if it’s rained
Let’s talk about your health
Tell me if you’ve had pain

Let’s talk about your job
Do you think it will improve
Let’s talk about your friends
And all the stupid crap they do

Let’s talk about the kids
Were they listening to you
Let’s talk about your degree
Do you like it at that school

Let’s talk about all the stupid things
Things that don’t matter at all
Let’s talk about nothing Important
Whenever you take the time to call

Let’s not talk about how we really are
How we may actually feel
Let’s not talk about the things that hurt
Because then it would all be too real

Let’s not talk about the pain we have
We may bring each other down
Let’s not talk about what we don’t like
It’s a topic to tip-toe around

Let’s not talk about where we are now
Two different ships lost at sea
Let’s not talk about what we are missing in life
Or bring to light what we’re too scared to see

Let’s not talk about the truths
Let them stay under the rug and hide
Let’s keep all our conversations as fluff
It’s so much easier to just lie.

Let’s just stop talking all together
No sense in wasting our breath
Let’s talk about nothing
Anything but death

An Inconvenience

I know I have always been your after thought

You have never wanted me around

I have always been that reminder of the life you hated

Of that one mistake you wish you never made

I was a constant inconvenience for you in my youth

You’d leave me behind when you should have been caring for me

I always needed more from you then you had energy to give me

Grown now and some things still have not changed

Your plans will always come before mine

My life’s milestones are of little interest to you

Maybe I’ll see you, but I probably won’t

Your life will not be influenced by anyone unless it is what you want

You determine your every move and the moves of all around you

Even though we will try as we will to do what we want

Your wrath is what is expected and not worth fighting

Your opinion is the only one that matters

Your time is more precious than mine ever has been or ever will be

Will I ever stop caring about your attention?

Will I ever stop searching for your love?

When will I stop being your inconvenience?

When?

Coloring Project – The Frog

Frog

2010 Summer Reading List

Sookie Stackhouse, the complete stories A touch of Dead
Finger Prints & Facelifts
His First Wife, Gracce Octavia
The promise of happiness, Justin Cratwright
Silk & Shadows
Wifey
The Honey Thief
The marriage
Ya ya Sisterhood book # 3
The Other Boleyn Girl
Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
3 book flower series by Nora Roberts
The Kept woman
Twlight book # 4
twlight book #3

Coloring Project – The Swan