Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Miss you TAKRA

I miss this blog!  Wish we were still writing on it. 

Thursday, February 18, 2010


The sun laughs at the trees,

then skips beyond the horizon.

Love lies awaiting the darkness.

Heat clings to the air

as shadows seep into twilight.

Evening clouds lift the moon.

Night creaks to life

while peace infiltrates dreams.

Silence slips through fingers.

Light leaks over the mountains,

branching into tomorrow.

Stars sneak toward dawn.

Rays slip past curtains

as sunrise sifts the sky

searching for the morning.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Baby Night Whispers

Waiting, whispering
wild wings catch the warm moonlight
breeze during sleep.

Quiet the hunter
guards blossoming, fledgling dreams
adding silver lines.

Protect the sleepy
hatchling, nestled close to home,
nature's living hearth.

Watchful guardians
nudge gently to life towards
white, wide, waiting worlds.

Catch, descry, get
an earful of every word
whispered gently near.

Screech, howl, scream, loud yells,
thoughts and visions to the world,
share living beauty.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Purple and Lace

Grocery List
Thigh Master
Fake eyelashes
crushed red pepper
shin guards
Christmas lights
Energy saver light bulbs
Sliver polish cleaner

Bobby Faye Lasso worked her thigh master furiously. "Work it hard, lose the lard." She sang. While she flexed her thighs in and out with the rythm of the thigh master, she imagined the 18 year old grocery bagger stroking her arms, brushing her hair and sucking luxuriously on her toes. It had been a week ago that she had run into his scrawny, hollow chest and got a wistful of Windex in her eyes.
"What the...! My eyes! Shit, my eyes! Help!" She crushed her fake eyelashes with her fist and more particles fell into her eyes. "You asshole!" She screamed the bewildered bagger grabbed things off the counter to wipe her face with and unfortunately grabbed a rag that had been used to clean up a bottle of spilled crushed red pepper. He screams escalated into piercing horror. The manager ran out and quickly ebbed the situation by bathing Bobby's face with a spray bottle and a clean wet rag.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. That little jerk should be fired."
"M'am, m'am, I am so sorry." The bagger croaked. She looked into his befuddled brown eyes.
"YOU SHOULD BE FIRED!" She screamed.
"I..I...I'm sorry."
"You going to pay for this, brown eyes. Just you wait."
The bagger gave up. He shrugged, popped a Mento into his mouth. "Whatever, bitch." He left her standing with an open mouth and a bright, enraged face.
A few days later he showed up at her door. She opened the door a little and looked at him with deadpan scorn.
"My manager told me to give these to you and asked that you accept my apology." In his arms were four boxes of Christmas lights and and two bottles of Vitamin C tablets.
"What kind of apology gifts are those?
"They were on special." He dropped the gifts in front of her door and started walking off.
"Hey! Get back here! Put those down on the counter for me."
He stopped, put his hands on his hips and turned around.
"Whatever you crazy bitch." he picked up the gifts and waited for her to open the door to let him in. She opened the door wide and he paused. She was seductively standing in lacy, purple underwear. Brown liver spots speckled her bare arms and face and greddy spider veins discolored her thin, loose legs. He thought twice before stepping in.
"I'm not sure I am comfortable with this." He said.
"Just put the packages down and you can leave."
He cautiously stepped into her apartment and set the packages on the counter. Behind him he heard the soft click of the door and the subtle squeak of the lock.
"I was just polishing my silver." She said and sauntered over to where the young boy stood. She picked up a bottle of silver cleaner, unscrewed the lid and took a deep gusty sniff. She threw her head back, closed her eyes and puffed out a whispery, "Yes. Yes!" She then focused her glazed, red eyes on his. "You might need shin guards for this." She said and stroked his thick, brown neck.
"I don't...I don't have any shin guards."
"Your knees are going to suffer then." She laughed.
Brown eyes backed away but not too quickly. His intereset was piqued.
"Listen, lady. My mom needs me to fix the washer but I can come back tomorrow"
"Are you sure?" She asked licking her ruby red, finely wrinkled lips.
"Yes. Yes, I am." he said and felt more and more sure he would indeed return tomorrow. He didn't like lace but purple was his favorite color.
"Well, when you come bring me a package of energy saving lightbulbs, vaseline and leave the underwear at home."
"Yes, m'am." He said and with that unlocked the door and proudly stepped out into the hall letting the door click shit behind him.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Shopping List Exercise - Enjoy

"Way Out There with only some Gold Bond Powder to Spare"

cottage cheese
gold fish
gold bond powder
make-up remover
graham crackers

"Don't forget the gold bond powder at the store," Rick said as I walked out the door.

I rolled my eyes. I had just bought him gold bond powder two weeks ago. What was he using it on? I had to ask myself as the vein in my forehead began to throb. It was time to grab my shopping list for cottage cheese, cinnamon and apples and run over to Smith's.

Before I forgot, I grabbed my pen out of my purse, leaned over to the counter and penciled gold bond on the bottom of my list. It wouldn't be the first time I had walked into the store and bought fruit instead of my list requiring a second trip to the store.

I drove over. There were no spaces. I ended up in the Blockbuster parking lot. I had to walk a half a mile just to get to the store.

I spotted a golden-haired, glittery-skinned women at my first stop, the fruit department. How weird.

"Do you know where the rice is?" she asked me tiredly then shot me with a liquid shot of mydol, at least that's what it said on the shot. It knocked me out but not before my head fell and crushed the graham crackers I'd dropped on the floor right before I started going down.

When I woke up I was surrounded by perfect, shiny people in a large room with what looked like Peppermill Farms Goldfish crackers that kept swimming around on the walls.

They offered me a burrito. "We found these at your store. Would you like one?" They asked curiously.

I rolled over and shuddered in horror. It was still frozen.

What I wouldn't give for make-up remover and another shot of Mydol right now. Their shininess was starting to bore into my brain like a lead weight. A little bit of lemi-shine might help, maybe?

I grabbed the buy closes to me and started rubbing his hand. He smiled and grabbed my hand in return and began to rub it the same way. I was rubbing his. He was still shiny. Good heavens. I needed sunglasses stat.

"She isn't very shiny. What's wrong with these people? If we can't get them to shine very soon we will have to destroy their planet."

"Double the gold bond bond powder Rick has been feeding her," The man holding my hand said. "We want to make sure they don't glow. If they don't we can have their planet."

"If you don't let me go, I will destroy your ship." I said.

I spit out the gold bond they were feeding me, added some make-up remover and lemi-shine, placed it by the fuel cells. Lit the fuse and blew the ship up.

I escaped in a pod, went back home, and strangled my Rick with gold bond powder.

Since I couldn't go anywhere after I strangled Rick I wrote a poem:

The gold fish swam lazily back and forth
in the lemi-shine and water in my sink.
It hadn't eaten the cottage cheese and borscht
that was floating on top and at at the brink
of it's tank. I removed it, swallowed a Midol,
sponged out make-up remover and began to scrub.
I sprinkled gold bond powder to dry it,
then wiped it all off, rinsed it and poured it in the tub.
I put the gold fish back in clean and shiny water
and boiled up rice and microwaved a burrito
crushed up some graham crackers, some apples,
some cinnamon, and microwaved halibut so
you could eat, and I could clean the mess
that you left outside the tank.
I powdered your lips and bandaged
your wound and into your big water you sank.

Monday, November 16, 2009

"The Dare" a brief inner monologue from the Shopping List Writing Exercise

Shopping List

Black Fishnet Pantyhose

Razors and Shaving cream

Red Lipstick

Chocolate Syrup

Ice Cream

Wax (Hair removal)

18 rounds 9mm bullets

Duct Tape




The Dare

Oh, CRAP! Tonight’s the night. I did it on a dare and I want to back out. I can’t. They’ll know. They’ll check up on me. They know I want to cancel. I HATE dares!

I’m doing it. A couple Vodka shots will ease my anxiety. Right?

One shot. Two shots…

The red lipstick on the rim breaks my concentration. The anxiety is back.

I have an idea…

The chocolate syrup drizzles like blood seeping from a wound, lacing the ice cream in a viscous web. Mmmmm…

The anxiety diminishes with each bite of this creamy confection.

Step two, the preparation. I run my hands across my legs. Dang. My last wax job has warn off. I’ll have to resort to the old stand-by: shaving cream and razor. So archaic. The Vodka did nothing to steady the constant tremble in my hand. I just manage to avoid nicking my ankle. I’d hate to leave any obvious DNA traces.

Carefully I dress for success. My alabaster skin appears translucent through the black fishnet of my pantyhose. The waist rips so I secure it with a ring of duct-tape. I won’t need to remove them in a hurry.

I grab my bag and check its contents:

Gloves, check (Not latex, though, I have allergies.)

Handcuffs, check.


I grab 18 rounds of 9mms from the dresser as I head to the door. The gun is tucked safely in the waistband of my skirt.

One last bite of ice cream and I’m gone. My mind is clear. I’m completing this dare.