Small World

the horizon of another
might not have
your limits.

think
before you
dress strangers
in your slim fitting habits.

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Politically (in)correct

head
is just a metaphor ~
the groomed lump
adorned with fake smile
has long forgotten
how to function;
how it feels
to be human.

shriveled heart in your chest;
if it can be found at all ~
without magnifying glass and tweezers
a fruitless attempt.

my stomach rebels
at the sight of you;
tempted to hurl
your lies
back in your face ~

i suggest
you wear your ass
as a hat
and see if it helps
to improve your image.

___________________________________________________________________
The Panda over at RuleOfStupid from the “Three Nuts and a Squirrel Crew” extended the challenge to write a poem of a journey through the human body, using the words bum or colon (i went with “ass” because it’s fun to use!), stomach, chest, heart and head. Somehow I ended up ‘describing’ a certain Politician who shall not be named here… let’s just say I don’t like him all that much. Heh.

Dear Ignorant Idiots,

rape jokes about a photo of a girl passed out drunk on the ground aren’t fun.
they are sick and macabre.

i hope one day, someone will put a mirror in front of you… to show you how wrong you are to call yourselves ‘human beings’.
but honestly, i doubt you would even see the truth… and end up admiring your haircuts.

i won’t even call you animals, because animals are certainly more evolved than you.
i hope you fall flat on your faces for your ignorance.

sincerely,
a pissed off individual

Zodiac Plague

dark and light
two sides, one body.
gemini they call me…
the two-faced turncoat.
false and treacherous.
prejudice, widely spread
among man.

has astrology’s prosecution
ever considered
that those
who control
light and dark;
make them fit
and battle
in one person’s shell;
are the ones
most challenged?!

the war within
has a cruel and brutal sound.

Sarcasm

looking for happiness in a horseshoe ~
true, so easy not to move
surely, your life will improve.

(written in the form of an Englyn penfyr, an ancient form of Celtic Poetry I recently got introduced to and instantly fell in love with. Thank you, Sue Judd! This is so much fun, try it!)

“Dear” Nightmare,

you were never invited.
how dare you enter here? have you ever heard of trespassing?!?!

we encountered last night… and although i tried really hard to shake you off, you clung to me all day. don’t you have anywhere else to be?!
you’re annoying as hell.

consider this your first and last warning.
if you ever show your ugly face again, i will not be as nice as i am now.
i will get the broom.
and shove the handle up your *beep*.

stay away. i will not say it again.

“best wishes”,
the annoyed

A Smurfy Tale

I am pissed at someone.
royally pissed. (so pissed, that I will even use capital I’s for this post.)

since this is my cave, I decided to spray paint the walls black and red for a little while… because I really need to blow off some steam.

let’s call this person The Smurf.

the smurf and I went roller skating… for about 3 years. It was great in the beginning – and I mean GREAT… you can’t imagine how much fun we had.

Then came the time where the smurf faced a really steep hill – one, the smurf had no option but to go down. I made sure the smurf didn’t fall too hard, took care of the smurf’s boo boo’s, applied more than enough band-aids for a lifetime and basically tried everything to keep the smurf off the concrete. it was fine. it was a pleasure for me to take care of the smurf – because I always thought that the smurf would do the same for me. the smurf did in the beginning… and i was happy.
the hill really was steep, but the smurf mastered it – bravely.
the smurf stayed off the ground.

recently, I had to discover that the smurf also looking out for me wasn’t true… not anymore. I got unstable, took a tumble and fell right on my butt, while the smurf stood idly by… not offering a hand, not even a word. while I had a fresh wound that needed patching up, the smurf was still too busy licking his old wounds and wallowing in the pain they caused.
I do know that some of the wounds the smurf suffered needed stitching and they still need time to heal… but I honestly have no idea how the smurf got so self-centred… and now ignores – and insults – the ones who care about the smurf, whom the smurf once deeply cared about.

sadly, the once so wonderful, caring and friendly smurf now looks like this:

and I am simply sick and tired of looking like this:

I can only hope the smurf will come back around, because underneath, the smurf is beautiful. until then, I will stay away… and let the smurf be grouchy.

if the smurf never comes back… well, so be it. nothing I can – and want to – do about it.
rant over.

now, back to whitewashing my cave’s walls… maybe not white yet, but a brighter shade than black and red… until the storm clouds pass.

i will go now and tape my scowl away… hope i can find tape strong enough for that.

___________________
photo credits: internet

Dear Time,

i know you don’t really exist and humankind only invented you because we feel the need to measure everything, but since you have been brought to existence, i would ask one thing of you…

please be more merciful.

how can it be that you always seem to happen to go by so fast when i need you to take it slow? and – of course – when i feel like you could go by more quickly, you enjoy to linger and dawdle, make me feel every second… sometimes even painfully so.
is this your revenge for us handing you the responsibility to keep the whole world in line?
i don’t really know…

maybe if we sat down together, we could work out some kind of agreement… because, really… sometimes you’re a handful.

sincerely,
a captive