Archive for despair

Dogs with Mohawks

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 20, 2010 by 1writegirl

My love and I
With nothing better to do
One rainy winter day
Took a look at my shaggy canine
And decided he needed a trim

We started slow
With a pair of shears
Behind the ears
Under the chin

And as we trimmed
We talked as always
About whatever came to mind

And the conversation turned
To the subject of what we’d imagined,
In the glory of dewy youth,
Our lives would look like today

I thought I’d be married, I said
As I swiped at Mugsy’s tail
Be grateful you didn’t go there
He grimaced
Believe me, it’s misery ad infinitum
Compounded by devastation

I should be teaching poetry,
He mused
At some prestigious, west coast college
Off came the left side of Mugsy’s beard

With co-eds hanging on my every word
Gone was his moustache too

I expected to be a famous writer
I exclaimed with an air of whimsy
As the clippers zoomed over Mugsy’s back
And flew up under his stomach
With at least one bestseller, I added
He nodded, I know, huh? he said
Then shaking his head in a daze of wonder
Started in with the scissors in earnest

I’d have a mansion by the sea
He explained with a faraway look
With servants to do my bidding
And an agent, an editor,
Stupendous advances

Fur was flying in all directions
Frenetic buzzing filled the air

And so it went for quite some time
With every word, another cut
For every lost dream
Another lock shorn
Until at last we were out of shouldve’s
And before us quaking in forlorn regret
Stood the product of our mutual despair

There was nothing left of him to speak of
He was half the size he’d started
And the only hair remaining
Was a strip from head to toe
A Mohawk of black and white
From his forehead straight up and spiking
Down his back to the tip of his tail

We put down the scissors, dropped the shears
And swept up the pile of fur
Thinking perhaps we’d made a mistake
Gotten too carried away
Until Mugsy stood up and shook himself
Then pranced up and down the room

Showing off his brand new do

Unencumbered, with nothing to block his view
Of cats and cars, food and chew-toys
And laps to settle into

I think he likes it, I gasped in amazement
He seems to feel freer, he agreed
Go figure, we said in unison
Then sighed and settled back down
To the one thing we both can’t not do for long

The process of writing our hearts out
To the tune of the pouring rain

I dig my new Do!

Dignity

Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2009 by 1writegirl

In a square cracked mirror
Of a motel bathroom
Mere yards from the highway
And speeding 18 wheelers

Where whores and drug addicts
Pay by the hour
And homeless indigents hang by corners
Holding signs of ragged cardboard

Where desperation lives
Despair thrives
And jesus is something you say under your breath
Or the lack of a reason to wake up tomorrow

While god is alive in the static of airwaves
And billboards that stare you down
He died for your sins
They tell you

And you wonder what you got
For his effort

And how many sins will be

Enough

Where death the Great Equalizer of us all
Hovers in wait,
Ready to pounce
And your days are numbered

You just don’t know how high

Blood red lipstick
Streaked across silver
Scrawled in a shaky hand
Bleeding at an angle

Denouncing, declaring, decoding, defiant

The only thing that is yours alone,
The only thing that’s yours to keep
The one thing no one can take from you
Without your explicit or implied consent

D
I
G
N
I
T
Y

Haiku #11: Broken

Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , , , on March 10, 2009 by 1writegirl

We all are broken
To some extent, if we live
Long enough it shows