Wednesday, February 25, 2015


You ask me if I love you,
Then you suck the lips off my face
And chew on the delicacy of their maroon creases.
'Body shop' lipstick, no. 12;
The taste of compact slabs of cherry.
This cheap adolescent disguise has guided me through all
my realizations.

I left it on the edge of plastic vodka glasses and blood smeared mirrors,
On the foreskins of Greek men,
And finally, on all your cliched perfume soaked letters.
Now it is in your mouth, your throat, your stomach.
You have swallowed my teens and all those fermented mistakes.

The ones I danced into blind,
Fumbling for an urgent exit
In whitewashed jeans and tobacco coated pockets.
All the words that flew out and assaulted
Steve, Damien, Kieren, Gary, Ben
(and all the others my high tech brain has crashed out and deleted),
Have left open wounds in my voice box,
gauged by their barbed wire font.

But as you savor the many varied tastes of my existence,
I can feel my insides frantically stitching and nursing
my pubescent cuts and bruises. Healing in seconds.
Now I am your fetus and everything is warm.

You feed me with a mother's strength and make me reborn,
Without all these zits and misadventures.
My new born 'Halleaugh' scream, realized from sterilized lungs
will be pristine, no lipstick stains in sight.

The answer to your question is
"Yes, Yes, Yes! "
Yes, I love you.
Yes, Yes, Yes.

I swirl out of your anesthetic
With a bacon rind for a belly button
And that's my first word,
A singular syllable.

I can turn the lens until my eyes are in focus,
And you, my surgeon, become my mother.
"Your adolescence has been successfully removed.
The operation was beautiful, wonderful,
Just fine. "

My log in word is 'You'.
That is all I remember.
I am a blank canvas, a cut- price jotter pad, an overflowing biro.
Write all over me.

Scrawl your name in my razor sharp armpits,
In my louse- free hair, my eyelashes bulging with years of mascara.
Practice your joined up handwriting on
My Mound of Venus and the folds of my labia;
Magenta pink and bald.

I am your Frankenstein,
but I promise not to fail.
I will get top marks in my oral stage, my anal stage
And all the others I don't remember,
Because we hit the doodle stage in class.

With you, I will grow old and withered
And our tree roots will be dangerously entwined with time.
We will become soil once again and make love amongst the worms.
'Yes' will be always be my answer, my mantra.
You will always be my host, my vessel;
A place to store my happiness and tears.

by Mimi

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

by Maya Angelou

Monday, February 16, 2015

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--

How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

by Edgar Allan Poe

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Before you fly

The fear of flights is a common syndrome. Frequent fliers may not be paying too much heed to pre-flight announcements and safety demonstrations but heaven knows how many of us our petrified when the smiling flight attendant politely points out how are chances of survival may be increased. And if you have recently read Arthur Hailey's 'Airport' or seen the movie, then it would be better to travel on tracks or on the road.

Though the trend has not caught on in India, in many other places in-flight safety lectures and announcements are sometimes flavoured a little with humour and some amount of well meaning teasing. This often helps to lighten up the situation a bit. Here are a few classic examples of flight-wit; it is for you to decide how effective these are.

§ On a Continental Flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.”

§ “On landing, the stewardess said, “Please be sure to take all of you belongings. If you're going to leave anything, please make sure it's something we'd like to have.”

§ “There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane.”

§ “Thank you for flying Delta Business Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.”

§ “After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in Memphis, a flight attendant on a Northwest flight announced, “Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as heck everything has shifted.”

§ From a Southwest Airlines employee: “Welcome aboard Southwest Flight 245 to Tampa. To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised.”

§ “In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with more than one small child, pick your favorite.”

§ Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but we'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Southwest Airlines.”

§ “Your seat cushions can be used for flotation; and, in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments.”

§ “As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses.”
Contributed by Batchmates member

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

My Puppy Punched Me In the Eye

My puppy punched me in the eye.
My rabbit whacked my ear.
My ferret gave a frightful cry
and roundhouse kicked my rear.

My lizard flipped me upside down.
My kitten kicked my head.
My hamster slammed me to the ground
and left me nearly dead.

So my advice? Avoid regrets;
no matter what you do,
don't ever let your family pets
take lessons in kung fu.

--Kenn Nesbitt

I Taught My Cat to Clean My Room

I taught my cat to clean my room,
to use a bucket, brush and broom,
to dust my clock and picture frames,
and pick up all my toys and games.

He puts my pants and shirts away,
and makes my bed, and I would say
it seems to me it's only fair
he puts away my underwear.

In fact, I think he's got it made.
I'm not as happy with our trade.
He may pick up my shoes and socks,
but I clean out his litterbox.

--Kenn Nesbitt