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sick sick sick meme

July 7, 2007

Because Ozy decided to tag me with the sick sick sick meme I shall have to come out of my closet and list 8 disgusting things about me. Guess I’ll find my hardcore readers this way hahaha who still wants to read beautiful words from a rather gross poet nyahahaha

1. I pick my nose. Yes. Same as ozy’s #1 though not in public (awww) BUT BUT BUT now here’s the gross part, I use my thumb 😛

2. I used to bite my fingernails when I was little. Some friends helped me try to kick the habit. They made progress…now I just like ripping them off (big toe nail only)

3. I have fart wars with my brother and some very close friends [the more loud, or disgusting smelling the better!!!]. With a poet friend we had a game where we had to poetically describe the sounds or invent unique onomatopeia. For farts my favorite was the wordplay on “brat” (make sure to trill your tongue on the “r” sound)

4.. I also have burp wars with the same people. It becomes sort of a percussion chorus once theres a lot of you burping non stop. hehehe

5. Not grossed out yet? Back in my alcoholic days, I seemed pretty ok and was a quiet drunk…. as long I didn’t move much. One time though had to ride a car to somewhere else and had my first experience with motion sickness. So as soon as the car stopped at a red light, I opened the door (front passenger seat) and unloaded my guts on to the window of the next vehicle. eeeewww. [I am mindful that Ozy has an aversion to puke hahaha read on there’s more…]

6. Now that I had figured out I get car sick when drunk I challenged myself not to (always putting on a brave face you see, and finding ways to hold my liquor) well one time, i felt so dizzy and ready to puke inside the car except that it was my friend’s car and i just couldn’t do THAT there… I ehhhh puked anyway closed mouth and swallowed it all again without letting a drop spill. (groooosssssss…. top that! the korean movie ‘my sassy girl’ comes to mind)

7. Alcohol and cigarettes were an inseparable couple for me back then. I could not have one without the other. Once the drinking session runs late and we run out of smokes, ( either the convenience stores are closed or too far to buy a pack ) I would usually dig through the ashtray and relight any cigarette butts that hadn’t burned down to the filter yet. (eeewww… i would also take this opportunity to announce that i’ve quit smoking. i’ve been clean for one year!)

8. When drinking at carnivals or open air parties, and am too drunk to walk around to find a toilet, I would pee in dark corners of buildings, behind bushes, behind trees, behind wheels of parked cars etc… [with a friend as a look out] 😉 and I am not ashamed. If dogs can do it why can’t I? [hehehe]

—that’s it folks! hahaha. ah well, lets see if anyone will bother to come back. or on the bright side perhaps i’ll find some kindred spirits as well hahahaha—-

i don’t really know who to inflict this meme on. hahaha so I’ll think about it for awhile. But if any of anyone of you does get inspired by this post to write your own disgusting meme, leave me a link, i would love to read [misery loves company!!!] hahahaha famtz I think I might hear from you on this 😉

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face off

June 30, 2007

There once was a man who loved money
so I thought it would be funny
to ask him in haste
why money had a face
and why he didn’t have any

 trying my hand at limericks... bear with me :)
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Te Amo

June 24, 2007

I watch myself move
from place to place, leaving footprints
that gradually disappear- languages,
learned and unlearned in a span
of ahello, muli bwanji? and au revoir, leaving
only remnants at the backs of old photos.

And even those images fade, lost
somewhere between my growing up
from suplada[ to maulawon to this quiet
wariness of one tired of being redefined
every time I translate my memories, tired
of dropping friends as often as I did my R’s.

So when I found out you spoke spanish,
in a Mexican drawl you found I didn’t care to learn,
you brought your lips to mine, in a silence
that became my personal rosetta stone
etching this memory and those yet to be born:
ones where I found myself

whisper between kisses
“Ndimakukonda…je t’aime…mahal kita…”
in a flawless translation
of how you taught me to love:
with everything
I am.

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Sidewinder

June 24, 2007

I am a sidewinder

tongue, licking
thirsty lips as
my thrusting hips
sway their way to you

smoothly, weaving

belly, surfing waves
of hourglass sands,
winding side-valleys
marking hypnotic trails

only eyes can follow

you watch me shed
my skin- silk slipping
from shoulders,
hissing as it falls

on the floor. I am

slithering up your leg
contracting, coiling
around your snake:
pulsating soft flesh

of my sidewinder mouth.

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Driver

June 17, 2007

Late afternoons,
it is this time
that I, a woman,
take my turn to ride
my husband’s jeepney.

I hoist myself up
on the driver’s side
then l o w e r my body
onto the seat and
swing my legs
inside.

My husband smiles and says:
“There, it’s your turn.”

I tentatively touch
the l o n g handle
of the gearshift, close my hand
around its head then
gently
coax it in reverse.

Easing the vehicle onto the asphalt
it isn’t long before I am looking at the
long
hard
expanse
of the road ahead.

My shoulders strain my shirt
as my hands and body
completely maneuver
this sardine can on wheels
as it thrusts
through the gas-fumed streets.

At every stop, a passenger
slithers and squeezes
his or her way between
the wet
sleeves and mixed odors
of other passengers.

A man behind me rests his
big
hand on my shoulder:
“para ho”
I grunt and snatch
the change on his palm.

It is not easy to do a man’s job
toward the end of the day
I drop my last passenger off
floor the accelerator,
speed through empty streets so fast
the sweat beads spatter on the windshield.

And despite the aches
a sudden urge wells up
to see my beloved.
I imagine him waiting
for me knowing that
I could never wait

to come to come god!

to c o m e

home.

Rate this Poem @ GotPoetry.com

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Sharks

June 10, 2007

sharks out of water,
swimming through city sewers:
defense attorneys

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Scrying: Chameleon

June 9, 2007

I walk in silence
with head bent low
my footsteps a whisper
nobody knows

Then I hear her speak of poetry
behind a slightly open door
now i wonder if I’ll ever go back
to the place i was before.

 

[check it out 🙂 The carnival is fun fun fun this week. You might even hear me read, for zee very first time…And if you missed last week’s carnival, check it out at Chameleon’s other blog. I like taking a trip back there for the cotton candy and the wonderful pieces posted by those who participated.]


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