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November, 2009

  1. Death Bed -poem

    November 10, 2009 by shishnit

    Imagine beautiful words, imminently bountiful, all

    The one’s I have read

    While being sick

    And while simply wanting a fresh loaf of bread

    while drinking wine, coffee,

    fleeing from something wicked

    and divorcing myself of pain

    rejoicing in love

    gaining yet again and again

    while

    planning a purchase

    buying a house

    planning a wedding

    building a home

    birthing a child

    breathing a new dream

    coming together

    shattering apart like a scream

    when lonely, together and

    yet again feeling alone

    a page turned, a dog-ear

    a traveling mercy, a glance

    a memory, a gentle knowing look

    curved and straight and crossed over

    and under as I drink my tea

    the luxury, the challenge

    the ever present friendship,

    not just a cold book

    Imagine the sentences creeping out

    From the woodwork

    The curves in my brain

    Coming and gathering

    Humming once, yet again

    Characters, plots and drivel

    Of page upon page

    On the ocean, in the forest

    A princess, an imaginary stage

    The kiss, the sleep, the drivel

    The loss, and the gain

    Coming back to visit me again and again

    I’m in it, living with it, I am within it

    Imagine the little ones I curled through my tongue

    In whispers while waiting on diagnosis

    recovering from operations

    and lobotomies of the heart

    with plots cemented,

    I never did come undone

    Nor did I even dare fall apart!

    Imagine…yes imagine!

    the ones recited to me when I was still very young

    joining together with those gathered

    in twenties, thirties and decades beyond,

    The ones marching in sunlight

    And those taken despite shaded by rain

    In sickness, and health

    In happiness and in pain

    Lined up soldiers forming words

    Stamping their directives like war games

    Across every page

    Characters created elsewhere

    Just for….

    for my own personal imaginary stage

    Picture them, a billion images

    Vital, viral and gore

    Them

    One by one

    Crawling into the blankets

    The sheets

    Of my death bed

    I really want for nothing more!

    Imagine those

    Lovingly gathered,

    Remembered with bliss

    Repeated, mattered, and sealed

    With a literary kiss

    The stories, their sentences

    The that’s and the things that happened like this

    Traveling across the miles of time

    Stroking the moon, your moon and mine

    The ones ingested in morning

    And regurgitated back, endeared to me

    By mid-afternoon

    The ones I saved, rewritten

    Painted on walls, left there with swoon

    Those must be saved

    For the wealth of visitors, one and then all

    There’ll be no phone call to make

    I will not be scared when

    Happily ever after arrives

    The sentences will re-warm me

    I will not be alone

    In “the end”

    When its time for me to die

    I’ll be covered in stories,

    Warmed by the sweetest fairy tale

    For all of those sentences

    Will gather together

    And forever remain

    Bury me with pages, one from every nook

    They will keep me, repeat to me

    And remove from me all pain

    Books have sustained me

    Bled with me

    Cried with me

    Please bury them in my blankets

    Sheet upon glorious well worn sheet

    Please don’t send me away

    With no literary relief

    Stash them, and stow them

    In each crevice galore

    When you think you have brought enough

    Please bring me some more!

             
    The sentences will hug me, protect me

    No lie

    Bury me under words, counted in thousands times more

    Please promise me

    For then you have no reason to cry

    As I will read through my death bed

    And forever after find joy

    And if you torch me

    Like I say that you really should and you just must!

    Add all of my pages, my books I adore

    Burn us together, together forevermore

    Then scatter us on beaches, on sand, and on the shore

    Like the prettiest sea shells, turned dust unto dust


    Note to Keith: Don’t forget to throw in the “leg” books…
     


  2. another edition of…..OMG what are they (Lane Bryant) thinking?

    November 9, 2009 by shishnit

    Hi!  In another realm I want to look like a chubby genie.  I think if I just rub my morning donut on my thighs, these pants might appear.  I will grant you three wishes, one of which is that you too can wear these pants redesigned by our newest fashion guru EMCEE Hammer!  These ultra trendy cropped harem pants offer you the room your fat thighs need, all while allowing your giggly behind the space to expand as needed.  No, don’t worry; you won’t look like a chubby leprechaun…unless you wear the coordinating Lucky Charms booties!  That….well you know they are magically delicious…just like those ten donuts you can now eat without fear of your pants not fitting!!   (Ruching=cottage dimple disguising clown pants…but shhhh don’t tell)   And do we really need pants with a V front?  Men don’t need directions…..or do they?  Try these directions instead… “Follow the donut dust to my ruching rear end darling!”   Too bad they don’t sell these items in green…..I could pretend I’m a fat drunk Irish woman all day.

     

     


  3. I almost always feel mega productive

    November 6, 2009 by shishnit

    NaNoWriMo comic Day 2 - inspiration