I may not be Everyone’s Cup of Tea, but I am Someone’s Double Vodka

“If you don’t like me, fine. It’s not my job to make you happy”

I may not be Everyone’s Cup of Tea, but I am Someone’s Double Vodka

You dont have to like me
Or be my friend
I am not looking for a life partner
Just someone to understand

If you expect to mend
And change my existence
I’d rather you just pretend
Then try to fix it

Somewhere
Someone
Is buying
What I am
Selling

I may not be
Your cup of tea
But surely some one
Prefers me
As their double vodka

tea-vs-vodka

Of Cliques and Sandboxes

“Tempted to type meaningless twaddle all the time on Twitter…with alliteration, no less!”
E.A. Bucchianeri

Of Cliques and Sandboxes

The social media
With it’s exclusive cliques
Reminder of a passed era
Playing in a sandbox
When one was six

Call it fandom
Call it friendship
The last ship
You ever expected
To be on

Hook, line and sinker
They reeled you in
Ready to give up your thinker
For world of cyber within

Playing by the rules
Set only by a few
If you won’t comply
Then out you will fly

Highly addicted
Utterly conflicted
Still trying hard
To get disconnected

No one seen
In the darkened room
The only light
From the screen
Sitting quietly
Wondering
If there is
Life beyond
The cyber dome

It’s About As Funny As A Root Canal

“Born With Teeth” Kate Mulgrew

It’s About As Funny As A Root Canal

You know
That feeling
Lying
In the chair
Thinking
Life
Is not fair

Staring
At the ceiling
Anticipating
Sweat
Covering
Your skin
Waiting for
The drilling
To begin
The sound
Resonating
In your skull

Totally bound
With feelings
Of dull
Contemplating
An escape
Looking
At the window
Wishing
For a cape
Like a superhero
Flying away

No time
The Dentist
Hovering
Covering
Your eyes
With sunglasses
Working
In a quick pace
Before I
Can plot my
Break

My mind
Wandering to
Molasses?
Am I
Loosing it?
Completely
Sugar
Would be
The last thing
I needed

Mouth
Agape
Drooling
Like an ape
Fooling
Not a chance
In a deep
Trance
Or a drug endused
State

After all
Is done
Wishing
I had
A gun
Somehow
Cooling down
Getting up
Staggering
Reeling
A sick
Feeling

A glance
In the mirror
Spittle
And blood
On my face
Must be
An error
Covering
My head
With a hood

Leaving quickly
No looking
Back
Oh what
A quack
Never mind
It’s all over
Until
Next time

When
You hear
It’s as funny
As A root canal
Time to fear
And run
As fast
As you
Can

fairy

My Partner In Crime

“Just remember if we are caught, you are deaf and I don’t speak English”

My Partner In Crime

The things
We treasure
In life

My Parter
In Crime

Elevates me
When I am down
On the ground
Kicking, screaming
Of the unfairness
Of it all

Anchors me
When I am high
In flight
My achievements
Elevating me

Reminds me
Of keeping
The faith
When I wallow
Deep
In self-doubt

I am the Jester
To her Queen
The Trabant
To her Ferrari

Where ever
She leads
I am not
Far behind

I would be
Totally lost
Without

My Partner
In Crime

partner

Tales of the Unexpected (or what ever floats in my mind)! Part One

“Every writer I know has trouble writing” Joseph Heller

Tales of the Unexpected (or what ever floats in my mind)! Part One

“This written tale is based on the prompt:”Four-hundred words. One at a time. Go.”

I woke up, when I was born, no sooner, no later. That was as stupid an opening line as “Once upon a time” or “It was a cold and rainy night”, but I thought I was being clever in starting the tale with a joke. You who follow my writing may have noticed the humouristic twist in most tales, at least at some point. For the life of me, I cannot write serious, not matter how I try. Maybe I would have a career in joke writing or scetches for “Saturday Night Live” or similar shows.

OK, so the agreed process for this tale is: Absolutely no censorship in this tale, my mind freely flowing as my fingers do the typing. I am no longer in command of this vessel. What ever is written on these pages is purely fictional as produced by the army of voices living in my head. I was thinking of cheating of course, thinking before writing, plotting my way into this tale.

After emerging from the deep state I was in, I decided to finally let go, to leave it alone, to not think too much and see what will develop. Apart from the typos caused by my fingers not being able to keep up, this is all just a flow of the mind. I know it is crowded in there, despite the fact the sign implies there is “room for rent”. My occupants like to play tricks on me and those who might take a glimpse to my brain.

Funny things those renters of mine. I prefer to use that word rather than thinking this is a permanent situation. I do hope, that, at some point the other voices will take their leave and I can finally make decisions on my own. Whether that be writing or something else. Mostly it is writing though. When I do decide to let go, the writing is usually good, so I really shouldn’t be taking any credit. But someone once said, A good writer borrows, a great writer steals.

Oh, oh, I am stuck now, either the others went on a break or then they are all napping. I am actually wondering how familiar and TV-oriented this sounds. I do sound like a Borg drone from Star Trek, don’t I. “I can’t hear the others, I need the others to survive!” must be the most quoted line in the franchise when the Borg characters are in play.

But I digest, I mean digress ;P

Flow of mind or the lack there of. A while back I wrote a funny note on my mind having too many tabs open. Oddly enough, that was not fiction but fact. I do like to dabble more on the fiction than the fact side, never getting too personal, but I have a warm feeling inside of me. Guess I am safe as long as it doesn’t run down my legs! But so far so good.

So, back to fact or fiction, was that what I was talking about? No, it was the thing of too many things occupying the brain at one point, hence the tabs and open thing. OK, back on track. So yes. That actually has a link to the ever so talked about writer’s block. The only blockage I have or have had for the past fifty odd years is or was the fact that I do censor myself, a lot. I have so many ideas, causing my mind to overflow.

Currently, as I started my writing life for the third and hopefully charmed time, I will let myself write what ever I want, who ever I want and where ever I want. Sans all the self doubt, drama and excuses. Oh my! Now I am finally getting serious! I actually got a little serious there a day or so back when I poured my heart and thoughts to a few darker poems. I admit I use humour as a cover and rather than dwelling on real life issues, I crack a joke.

I freely admit to the following personality traits: I am sarcastic, pessimistic, I have a warped sense of humour, I am spontaneous yet conscious, I am lazy, but also industrious, at least when work is concerned, personal life not so much. So now you know. I like to hide but remain right in the open. I talk a lot, but say nothing.

Back to the topic again, (I seem to be loosing the track now constantly), what ever that was, I actually forgot at this point. Oh yes, free flow of the mind. So not a jogy, not a Vulcan, not logical, just your average everyday humanoid being. So that is my life story or sort of story. At least what I came up with today. I guess this is more than four hundred words. I don’t know how much of myself I have revealed in this little mind tale, but read between the lines or over the lines. Somewhere there, between, lies the truth.

something

More Tales of the Unexpected

The Neighbourhood

Conquer your neighbourhood, conquer your city, conquer your country, and then go after the rest of the world. That’s my mantra” Grandmaster Flash

The Neighbourhood

The neighbourhood had seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley had lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who were all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley had died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, had arrived to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years…

***

I was sitting on the curve, waiting for my best friends Lily and Bobby. We were going to play hops-scotch after school today and as usual, I was early. My homework was done already and mom had awarded me with chocolate muffins she had baked herself. I consider myself a nerdy girl and try to live up to my favourite TV characters, meaning not having too many creature comforts. It’s kinda hard since I like dressing up, the colour pink and I especially love chocolate. Anyways, my grams told me I was an old soul, and I looked that up on the internet, what it actually meant. I kind of understood the jest of it, what it means. And even though sometimes my friends go “What?” when I talk to them in long sentences, and sometimes take the side of the adults, I still feel like a little kid and I like to play.

I was getting bored, waiting for my friends to come. They were usually late, especially Lily, who it took forever to decide on what to wear after the school uniform got tossed waiting for the next day. Then I heard the sirens wailing. I wondered if there had been an accident and got up to catch a better glimpse of the nearing sound. It was two police cars coming to this street. They drove by me and parked in front of old lady Pauley’s house. I got scared thinking Mrs Pauley was hurt or even worse. So I ran closer, to find out what was going on. The landlord Mr Pruitt was also there. He and four policemen walked right to Mrs Pauley’s door and knocked on it.

I had inched myself closer to the house and was standing right behind two of the officers. I tapped on the other one’s back, to get their attention. He turned around and looked at me surprised.

“Hi little girl! What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I’m Emily. I live over there.” I was pointing at our house a block away.

“Nice to meet you Emily.” The officer told me. “Maybe you should go back to playing. We have some things we’d like to discuss with Mrs Pauley.”

“I’m OK. I am waiting for my friends.” I insisted.

By this time, my presence had caught the attention of the other ones too.

“Young lady, run along now. This is grown up business.” The lady officer told me.

“It’s OK. My grandma told me I am growing up really fast and know a lot of grown up stuff.” I tried.

The others were looking at each other, I think the landlord did not like me very much. All us neighbourhood kids knew he didn’t have any kids and therefore did not like them.

“Look, Emily was it?” The nicer lady officer said.

I nodded.

“You should run along now.”

I was going to answer her, but I saw my two friends arriving. They had headed straight to the house after they had seen the police cars in front.

“Hi Emily! What’s going on? Are there robbers here?” Bobby was making his usual assumptions.

The officers seemed to be getting a little annoyed and looking at us kids not sure on what to do.

“I dunno!” I shrugged my shoulders.

“No robbers young man.” The other officer responded.

“Too bad,” Bobby replied.

“Is old lady Pauley OK?” I asked

“She is fine.” The officer told me.

“So why are the police here then?” I was curious now.

“Oh, just some adult stuff, nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.” He started.

“It’s fine you can tell us.” I told him

“Yeah, tell us!” Lily joined the chorus.

By this time a few other kids had arrived to the house and more were on their way. It seemed all this action of police cars had drawn the attention of the kids around the hood. Finally I counted around twenty children who were checking out the yard, the police cars and asking the officers all kinds of questions.

“I think we’d better do this another day.” The lady officer told her partner, “It seems we have drawn too much attention and I don’t feel comfortable dragging an old lady out of the house in front of all these children.” She looked worried.

“What if we ask Mr Pruitt if he could come up with some sort of an arrangement.” The officer told the others.

“Sounds like a good plan.” The other ones agreed.

“Mr. Pruitt, can we have a word with you.” The lady officer waved for Mr Pruitt to step closer.

We tried to listen in on the conversation, but could not hear much. Apparently nothing much was going on in the end since they all left in a while. Us kids started our own separate ways. As I was leaving I looked back and saw Mrs Pauley in the window. She was smiling and waved at me. I waved back and ran after my friends thinking I was glad she was alright.

 

neighbourhood

Rocket Science? It’s Just Life!

“What I do is not rocket science, but I sure do love it” Kyle Chandler

Rocket Science? It’s Just Life!

Life

Is complicated
Feelings of hate
It challenges you
It teases you

Makes you feel very small
The elating, making you tall
Pushing you against the wall
Even if you wanted to just go to the mall

You are so confused
With feelings of being abused
Left out standing in the cold
Cheated of everything and very old

It’s more like science
Than any kind of common sense
How to break the fence
Find the formula of suspense

Remember this one thing
And it can make you sing

It’s only complicated
If you are acting stupid
It’s not rocket science
It’s just life with a little defiance

rocket

Nightmares of Who I Am

“Who am I and why am I here? Has just become my greatest fear.” Mohit.K.Misra

Nightmares of Who I Am

Do I have anxieties?
What am I afraid of?
What is my worst fear?
What do I worry about?
Who am I scared of?

If you won’t ask me
I will never tell you
I prefer it that way
Staying anonymous, hidden
An enigma, never written

I’m not special
But I am different
I’m not ordinary
I am distinctive
Im not complicated
I am plain difficult

To your question
“Tell me about your childhood”
Without any hesitation
I say
You misunderstood
I get out

who

Nightmares of Time

“Suspect each moment, for it is a thief, tiptoeing away with more than it brings” John Updike

Nightmares of Time

Do I have anxieties?
What am I afraid of?
What is my worst fear?
What do I worry about?
Who am I scared of?

Jumping
Into the abyss
Falling, flailing
Yet never reaching
The ground
Suspended in
Mid air
Not flying
Not falling

Running out of time

Sprinting
Leaping
Close enough
Feeling it
Almost touching
Tasting it
Yet never reaching
I want it so much

Running out of time

My heart pounding
Cold sweat
Covering all of me
In my mind the same theme hounding
Of being late
My greatest worry seems to be

Running out of time

Time from what?
My life

time

Mirror, Mirror

“Before you judge me, my actions or my ways, just take a good look in the mirror because honey, you ain’t perfect”

Mirror, Mirror

Mirror Mirror
On the wall
Who is the bitchiest
Of them all?

You say attitude
I say personality
Just because
I piss you off

Mirror Mirror
On the wall
Who is the smartest
Of them all?

I may play dumb
Or a lazy bum
But there within lies the fun
Always thinking like
The fastest gun

Mirror Mirror
On the wall
Is it my reflection
Or a deception?

It is myself I see
Even if thee
Don’t agree

It’s always going to be
Just me
In the
Mirror, Mirror

mirror