My #365poems

 

Maybe this will happen. Maybe it won’t. All I can do is try. My friend @Schmutzie is going for a poem a day and hashtagging it #365poems. She’s invited others to play and of course, I forgot I don’t have time to breathe let alone play with more words so I said yes. Then I showed up late. Figures. Go read some Schmoetry. I’ll be here to discuss The Awesome when you return.

Also? Some of these poems are recycled and edited, but I’m at least getting them into one place. Also? I have no idea how to add blog pages with posts so I’m improvising and making this reverse chronological order myself.

 

 

 

Day 4/365: Walk a Mile

 

 

Sometimes I think it would have been

easier

to have a drinking problem

than feel the need to

stuff

myself

down

as

far

as

I

can

bury

myself

within

because everyone takes pity on the fat girl

with the doughnuts who lies

when she orders a dozen.

Everyone knows she isn’t going to share.

Everyone pretends to think she is.

Eat less. Exercise more. You’ll be fine if you just

focus.

Then I remember wearing my dad’s flips flops at home

because we had the same size feet.

 

Day 3:365: On Choosing Water

The difference between blood and water

lies not in the consistency, but in the

glorious truth that water comes with

a choice.

Blood binds me, ties me to

nothing

and to

everything.

But it binds me, nonetheless.

Blood comes with baggage, with history,

with future, and with family arguments,

most of which are held in my head.

Blood comes with love and with pain and with

laughter

and

tears

and strangers who once were more

until they decided that sometimes

blood just isn’t thick enough.

Blood comes with a heavy responsibility

to remain loyal to what was in order

to maintain appearances because

it’s just easier to lie to ourselves

with strained smiles for our public

and save the bitching for when

the appropriate backs

are turned.

Blood comes with a silence so loud

that we must laugh louder

to drown out the sound of

words left unspoken.

So I choose water when blood remains

the only tie.

Because sometimes, blood just isn’t

thick enough.

 

Day 2:365: Zombie

Voices raised fingers pointed

tears

thoughts racing guilt swelling

eat

something anything

chew

swallow

repeat

words thrown overhead

salt in wounds

pepper in soul

let them yell
escape

zombie-like

walk downstairs

enter bathroom

lock

get on knees

lift the lid

open mouth

despair

insert finger

gag

release

stand up wash hands

glance at reflection

mascara streaks

flush

wash

mesmerized

anxieties

fears

turmoil

swirl

sweet nothingness

lock up self

unlock door

voices raised

fingers pointed

go through motions

again

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 1/365: I See Me

 

 

Kinky hair.
Olive skin.
Big brown eyes.
Full set

of

lips.

Mascara?

No

thank

you.

Tweezers? Yes, please.
Eyebrows gettin’ crazy.
Lady-stash?

Pluck

off.

Crooked smile.
Baby teeth.
Triple D’s.
Holy hips.

Hour glass curves

softened

by

motherhood
Cellulite.
Muffin top.

Doesn’t matter

what

I

see.
What matters is
How she sees

I

see

me

Celebrate the kinky curls
The crooked smile
The lady-stash tweezers

Love the comfort

of

my

soft

curves
Make way for me (and my hips)
Doesn’t matter what I see.

What does is how she sees

I

see

me.

 

 

  9 Responses to “My #365poems”

  1. I have been fat all my life and I always ate more when I was nervous. But I got on a diet and lost down to 110 pounds. Then I got pregnant. I only gained about 10 pounds that stayed on after delivery. But my now ex-husband told me how good I looked before I got pregnant. So I stressed and started eating. Then I would gain 10 more pounds and he would tell me then how good I had looked before I gained the 10 pounds, instead of telling me that before I gained the weight. But to make a long story short. I gained back all the weight after having two sons and I divorced my now ex-husband. But you need to love yourself no matter what size you are. Good things come in all size and shapes and if you don’t love yourself, no one else will.

  2. I’m so in, girl. You are speaking to me. I’ll be submitting. (Dirty little secret. I adopted and gained the same amount of weight that a pregnant woman would have gained. Fail!)

  3. Oh, do I have stories…you don’t have 10lbs babies without some residual weight :-)

  4. I love this idea and would love to be a part of it. Not sure I can make November deadline but will shoot for December (which means February ::). Good luck girl!

  5. Love this idea!

  6. Oh I will certainly be writing an essay for this. What a great idea! :)

  7. Li, thanks for the visit and the support on the memoir and contest! I appreciate it. And I love your mom’s voice…cracks me right up because I an relate!

  8. Hello There!
    Well, i think this idea is awesome! I’m not a mom or else I’d love to be part of this!

    [I am, however, a thirty year old woman who should've listened to her mother when she said in her little latin lady tone, "loosin waay isss not goin to be so eassssy, when ju hit thirty, trusss me" and instead of eating to promote the constant growth of my ass, i should've listened, anyway..I digress]

    I’m so for your memoir, by the way!!!!

  9. [...] By submitting a story, you give www.aspiringmama.com the right to re-publish and distribute your work on this website, and in any other formats [...]

 Leave a Reply

(required)

(required)

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

CommentLuv badge
Social links powered by Ecreative Internet Marketing