Yucky Chucky Tucker

Yucky Chucky Tucker was smelly as can be,
he never took a bath and hardly ever brushed his teeth.
Everywhere he went he left an odor in the air,
and Yucky Chucky Tucker never combed his hair.
His hands were always ***** cause he played with stinky worms,
he never cared if he got sick, he wasn't afraid of germs.
He didn't have a lot of friends except for one or two,
till Yucky Chucky Tucker met little Linda Sue.
Linda was quite pretty, an awesome sight to admire
and Yucky Chucky Tucker would give anything to sit by her.
But he'd have to make some changes and what I mean by that,
Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to take a bath.
He'd have to wash his hands and scrub his ***** face,
and to clean his stained up yellow teeth would take a tube of paste.
He'd have to wash his hair at least a dozen times,
to remove the terrible build up of sticky greasy grime.
Then Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to change his clothes,
sprinkle on cologne and find a bright red rose.
And maybe if he's lucky little Linda Sue,
might take another look at him and think he's really cute.
Funny how a pretty girl can change the way you think,
cause even Yucky Chucky Tucker washed away his stink,
All to catch the eye of little Linda Sue,
besides, her daddy owned a toy store, now what's a boy to do?

Written By  Kathy J Parenteau
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

The yucky part of me
Thinking I’m due some clarity
It isn’t true
But your refusal to give it
Is the yucky part of you
At least that’s how it looks
From my point of view
But all of that is only
Cause I don’t want to see
What you have shown to me
Via blatant apathy
The yucky part of you
Only exists because I refuse
That clarity
You’ve already given to me
I’m too yucky to see it
Willingly
I probably
Owe you an apology
But instead of giving it
I do not give up
My yucky ways
I’m stuck on yucky
You see
And you seem to be
Stuck with me

Well I'm here .... It's grose and ***** ....
My job is crystal clear!!!

I need to get this place back in shape...
I can't believe they live like this...
Like they're in the jungle living like some ape !!

I can't stand dirt and clutter and yucky grose walls....
I'm a germaphobe and cleanliness calls!!

The critters got my trash last night
Left it on the deck
forgotten
Till the ones with night shine
in their eyes
feasted between
cat litter, coffee grounds
chicken bones and wraps
A lovely chore to start the day
before sunlight and my coffee
picking through the mess
What I really want to do
is plant
tomatoes, spices, squash, and
Packman broccoli
things that grow
delicious
in sunlight

I suppose that raccoon
feels the lucky, yucky same
about good fortune of my trash
Same
about the moonlight
that he dines by

Three-legged spider on a ***** tile
Eyeball rolls, clean in hand
Massive metal door opens, up top a hill
Graveyard of ever-ringing cells.

What's real creepy to you?

Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good
Condemned as doomed, living dead
Big guns survive in metallic domes
See the crass ******* shoot us down!

Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh?

Plunderers now lay down new laws
Can't fight the sick, red sway
Random acts of violence bay
Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers.

Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right?

No soaring when blood runs rivers
Tripping over rotting corpses
Decaying stench of hope dying
Help will come, we must believe!

Do you believe lies to your face?

Infrastructure's down, no services
Power's out, no more flushing
Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet
How come big brother's eyes still move?

Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble?

Sun shines, but nothing grows
Rain seeps red away into sewers
Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns
Skeletal trees adorn our landscape.

Why hold askance your glance skyward?

The gates will open to let us in
Surely, they witness our hardship!
There must exist a life beyond this strife
Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more....

Can you ever cease to have temerity?

In face of adversity, calamity and injustice
We should NEVER cease to be exasperated!
Hope must prevail; faith must live;
Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive.

Can you afford your spirit just to let go....?

Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ...

Chronically..........Insidious
Repressively........Deleterious
Egotistically.........Inadequate
Eruptively............Odious
Pretentiously.......Tedious
Yucky...................****!


S T, 31 May 2013

Rubber duck, rubber ducky
You stay with me,
Even when the water's yucky.

Rubber duck, rubber ducky
your yellow skin bumps, and rubs me.

Mr. Duck, Mr. Hug me
You speak, more than a squeak, saying
"The waters calming, not alarming"

Rubber duck, rubber ducky
Stay with me. Even when the water turns ******.

My doctor says that I'm too fat
He never stops his barking
He may be right at the end of the day
But despite it all I'm starving

I have a hole inside me
I used to quell with spirits
I stopped but they still haunt me
They'll **** me, so I fear it

******* used to cure this all
but no one could keep up
then one day I felt all yucky
abandoned all pursuits of "love"

I had a year way back when
Where all I did was party
I stuck weird things up my nose
But I ran out of money

When I was a teenager
my dad called me a *****
I got upset and cut myself
but quickly I grew bored

I drove fast around tight corners
to feel the breeze on warm damp nights
but today behind a wheel
I feel paralyzed

My doctor says to stab myself
so I don't eat too much
maybe if I'm smaller
I won't cringe when I am touched

But even as I sit here
and to food I feel averse
I know deep down inside myself
I'll always have this curse

I wonder what I'll crave now
these meds they make me sick
maybe just attention
will be how I get my kicks

I was once the right shape
it wasn't long ago
and even then I noticed
how people come and go

Will I ever feel full
to the wind I'm *******
I take up all this space
and still there's something missing

Mali the tabby was out for stroll, the evening sun was easing down and her whiskas biscuits were gone from her tummy, at least enough for her to feel like some activity was justified.
The meadow over the big wall smelled good, flowers and warmth and enough life flying around to interest a playful hunter, she mused to herself.
Up! Over the wall in a single fluid action, unaware how perfect she always flowed, like oil on marble.
Into the wee forest, tall flowers, watch the stingy plants, rub her cheeks on the sweet ones to stake her claim, then off to butterflies and fun!
Wait though, what is this smell?
Warm and young, hmm.. her instincts kicking in, she crept belly-flat to the source of the scent. Something like a wee rabbit, those yucky things! This was different,  this was small and alone, and still in a grass hollow.
She quietly put her graceful neck out, and opened her mouth to grasp and taste,
but leapt back as a shadow fell beside her, and she jumped again as a touch was upon her head. She struck quickly, but only got air and grass.
Breathing hard she reversed till she saw her challenger, something like her human, but tiny, with a bright silver thing in her hand and.....wings?...

Mali here I stand with you
in this field beneath the blue
I feel your huntress heart inside
but if you leap I will not hide
Take a mouse or take a rat
chase a rabbit brown and fat
but if you try to hurt my hare
you had better take some care
I guard them with my fairy kind
the young ones here for me to mind
and to you in this pleasent field
I promise you I will not yield
The hares are age old fairy friends
and to the last we will defend
so Mali think on this a while
make a choice and make me smile

Mali thought for a wee while, washing her mouth, watching this wee creature from under her half-closed eyelids. So, this was a fairy...well she smelled nice, and reninded her off her little human children who loved to play. Hmmm...

I'm sorry that I came to fast
with thought of food a sweet repast
now here I see you small and strong
to fight you would be hard and long
so let us make a pact today
in this field you let me play
we can learn to always share
the meadow fairy cat and hare
what duty hares have done for you
I cannot guess but hold it true
that when you claim to hold them dear
I shall repect them always here

Leipsha the wee fairy took her turn to think, she knew the cat was honest, all tabbies tell the truth and this one smelt kind for a cat..

Come then now we have a deal
but think we need something to seal
our words of grace we swapped today
and cats of all the creatures play
So follow me across the hill
we will have a chase and thrill
meet the hares and watch them run
race them and enjoy the fun

So when in the lowland meadow you see
hares and tabby cat running free
squint and look close all around
for a fairy is guarding them on the ground

Wait, hold on,
what'd you just say?
hold on a sec,
I don't think I heard you,
& anyway
can you repeat that again?
say,
AGAIN my "friend"?
saaaay what!?

You cannot be serious.
Not cool,
I got your "number "

Let me dig the wax out of my ears,
If I think I heard that correctly,
well,
perhaps you better tell
& retell
me just ...one ...more ...time,
paaaleeease, be real
are you.... for REAL?

Ummm no,
don't know how to break this to you
but ain't gonna happen,
maybe you just need to speak up,
am I,
going deaf?
Are you???
I need to write this **** down,
so I can,

BELIEVE it & then I can,
retrieve it,
Not OK, EVER,
Not gonna happen, not NEVER
& it shouldn't either,

If I wanted someone I would let 'em know
No it ain't no kinda striptease girly show
& boy you just gotta go,

My right hand has an really bad itch
& my left eye has a really bad twitch
it ain't I'm a fool
& I ain't no really bad *****
I could be if I'm forced
I could be a REALLY bad witch

Me, cast a spell?
Why I'll never, ever tell,
Hey what's that smell?
Your just ROTTEN
to the core I said I before
soon you'll be forgotten,

I might be right handed,
but the left one demanded,

& right here's a door,
but my left is unlucky
itching is just very, very sucky
no it isn't just ducky,
way way more than simply
ucky yucky
****

A sticky icky sitch,
Grandmother told me
watch the signs
as they will remind,
& I wish she could just hold me
&  if she could just scold me
I'm just very glad she told me
& told me,

You speak of being "professional"
& I most definitely am,
my field of work requires it,
so does life, love & everything valuable,
like poetry,

Except you're not laughing
I'm not either,
no, no, no, not funny
at ALL,
my name isn't "Charlita" either,
you musta gotta a lotta nerve,
boy, you
must got a huge set
of *****
act like a filthy bull
hung like a proverbial horse
( cuz I hear your not )
& of course, of course,
of course,
I hope you like 'em too,
cuz you're gonna maybe need 'em

Cuz' you have ZERO respect for women
for yourself or for others
sorry for how you were raised
musta been a real mother-******
an old used up empty angry trucker
well I ain't no foolish  sucker,

No excuses justify making someone actually fear your crazy & lazy ***,

I ain't no female dog,

I'm a daughter, a Mother
a lovely loving lover,
I gotta couple loving Brothers
I have cousins & a Son,
No I ain't the one,
I'm a Sister, a friend
on whom they all can always depend
and this here voice they will defend,
or give a hand one they gladly lend,
& be with me until the end,
a message of hope to all I send,

So don't look at me that a way
Why don't you hear the words I say
& say & say?
you are such a CREEP,
I don't know at night
I don't know how you ever, ever get good sleep,

A constant loser,
such wicked bad, bad verbal abuser
a drunken, drugged out
& broke-down, low-down,
get outta my town abuser,
in Brooklyn you'd even be worse,
a lowly hooser,
I ain't gonna be your lil' **** poetic muser
perhaps a ride, oh look right here,
here's a waiting empty cruiser,

Thank you dear sweet poet
& betcha didn't even know it,
cuz I didn't get to show it,
take this man right here,
yes him, take him my dear,
a bumpy ride ain't all you gotta fear,

He's the one in the foggy drunken stooper,
I really, really wish,
it was just a silly, silly blooper,
my rugged righteous local Trooper

Saving souls & the defenseless
his job is just so relentless,
imprisonment should not be for all,
so when they get a call
Notta emergency, maybe technically,
still, State Police
-how can I help you?

Especially where I am supposed to feel most comfortable & safe,

Shouldn't feel like your skin is crawling
you don't get to me
you can't,
I'm all done with all the bawling,
but respect & justice
are
for every
ONE of us,

You must love going back to jail
& you're going to have a good long tale
to tell in there so go ahead & share
I really couldn't care, at all
but,
I do,
I couldn't care much more about myself
or about right & wrong
or care any less about you,
what you SEE as fair?

My pen, is poetic justice,
there's a poison in my pen
you should be most terrified
whilst I'll be feelin really ' Zen

Poison darts might be all right for bad animals,
Or ones who just need to be put back into the wild
who act like a completely ignorant adult child,
but you know better than that,
Sometimes I might wanna
put it in a poison apple for someone,
like you,
but no,

I bleed & I bleed,
so go ahead  
& read, read & read
I'm not a tattle,
this is a just a truly poetic need,
just another weary battle,
with theives who believe,
& believe in their unending greed
their very, bad, bad misdeeds
ones we mustn't,
we mustn't trust just words
action SPEAK the

LOUDEST

The Thunder Rolls,

Just write, I hear
behind all the painful memories & fear
that frightened girl in a corner
Everything is heightened,
I tried, I tried to warn her,
like a beautiful storm
but never, ever did I scorn her,

As hearts skip,
hear my battle yip
here's a friendly lil' tip,

She tells how human leopards,
apparently,
don't change their stupid spots
better run she says,
a fire of hell it might be kinda hot,
& an appealing prospect you are most definitely, definitely not,

& Don't worry I'm keeping track
you can act sorta nice at times,
but respect is what you seriously lack
& I'm not taking your targeted attack,

Soooo yeah,
& guess what I got?
Take a stab, go ahead, just give it a shot,
patience she ain't the one I got,
my fired feet are feeling plenty hot,


Just take a wild guess
it ain't a wild hair across my ***,

You got as good a chance at guessing my answer
as understanding my personal boundaries

I have two things actually for you
1 is not a ****** "favor"
or "servicing"
the other is
a real BIG surprise?


ZERO tolerance.

Cherie Nolan

i

It took three of us to pull her out
onto steel-float-finished concrete —
where her mother; BNNZ-0031U
fell from GXA339605 —
a little black Limousin heifer
later to be Christened
IE18576-0426.
Shortened to Patch.

Like my nephew Jamie
he’ll never know dial-up.
Imagine … I lived 27 years B.FB.
(Before Facebook.)


ii

If a cow calves down successfully —
that’s no guarantee you’ll end up with a cheque —
they’re moved to the postnatal paddock.
Almost the furthest field back,
gives junior a peak at the future fields
they’ll someday graze.
Provided they live long enough.

One year, the tour had entered the 3rd Hill Field
which has 8 gates, the cow knew which one.
I was only here to open and close the gates.
So she checked her mirrors
then indicated left. Migratory.
Junior, on-the-other-hand
didn’t quite know what to do
so floored it; head-on
into un-suspecting gate.

It was like in the cartoons,
something would fall on someone’s head,
they’d walk away like an accordion.

I nearly died laughing
5000 times funnier than castrating lambs
I swear to God.


iii

They came into my world and leave
from the shed

I like to think that there word for the shed,
when translated would mean pain —
between being de-horned; castrated;
belted with sticks; stobbed with needles
and yucky medicine rammed down their throats.  
Then weaned: no more mommy from now on.

Let back out, having weathered their 1st winter.
Yearlings; grazing different field.
Their 2nd summer at grass — according to the book —
is where they’ll experience Compensatory Growth.
When the gate up to the Rock is closed,
that’s the end of the road for them.
We finish the cattle here.
Well used to gates by then.

That’s all it is really; a series of galvanised gates
opening and closing in conjunction
with a selected grazing rotation.
One cycle around 62.4 hectares.


iv

There’s only one reason
cows are moved in with the cattle —
well, yea there’s the other reason too,
but primarily —
to keep Romeo away from Juliet.

At this age, there elders are generally knackered,
probably mastitis in more than one ***.

In the Beef Book in college,
cull cows are referred to as ‘canners’
as that’s where most of them end up —
in tins of dog food.


v

It was 17 years ago, Patch ran into that gate.
I’ve seen her go from bullied springer to bully.
She’s taking a trip with the cattle today.

I wonder did she know
that IE18576-0851 was hers
from last year. I like to think so.
And everyone of her offspring,
all lived to be killed.
Only space for that in my notebook.

Mart starts at 10, it’s 8.30am
waiting for Lynsky.
All my years loading cattle,
it’s never once been raining.

And calves in fields over
contently ****.

Consider a drip,
Falling from a faucet.
An effortless glide to the sink,
Plunging into the drain.
Twisting,
Turning,
Tumbling.
A skydiver’s free fall,
With out his chute.
A direct flight,
And then – the curve,
Hard,
Full,
Yucky,
Ding – ****, “ It’s the plumber he’s come to fix the sink.”

I.

Blurry green and brown shapes rush past me
at the speed of light, i spin around and around.
Trees, people and playground equipment blend together
in a whirlwind, i am spinning around so fast
i think i might die.
My small hands grip the edges of the black rubber tire.
i squeeze my eyes shut,
thinking that might make the dizziness stop
but it only makes it worse. Pain enters
my fingertips - my arms are ripping apart.
Still, i hold on. i’m afraid
that if i let go my head will hit the ground and my neck will snap.
i hear my brother’s laughter swirling around my head.
i want to beg him to stop the spinning
but i know that crying and pleading only makes this game last longer.
When i asked him to play this wasn’t what i had in mind.
So i wait quietly.
This will all be over soon.

II.

Darkness is all around me.
The one tiny hole near the lid of the toy box allows
only a sliver of light into my little wooden prison.
i run my fingers along the dark walls
beside me and all around me, feeling
the grains of the unfinished wood.
My finger catches a sliver and it stings
but i don’t cry because
crying only makes this game last longer.
The old toy box groans under the weight of my brother’s body.
i can hear his fingers mashing the Nintendo controller
and his feet kicking against the outside of the box.
When i asked him to play, this wasn’t what i had in mind.
If i wait quietly, he will eventually get bored
and this will all be over soon.

III.

The grass is wet and yucky underneath
my body, cold and slimy.
Rows of houses watch in judgement
against black suburban sky,
their inhabitants fast asleep and safe in their beds
while i lie here with this strange man’s ***** hands around my neck.
How did i get here? A few too many rounds
of *****-fueled drinking games,
each sip burning up a piece of my awareness
until all i can comprehend is his heavy body
on top of me, his cold, unfamiliar eyes.
When i asked him to play, this wasn’t what i had in mind.
Each time my ragdoll head smacks the ground,
the sickening sound bounces between my eardrums.
He could easily ragdoll me to death.
i pray someone will step outside and end this game,
but screaming will only make him panic,
and wild animals can be unpredictable when cornered.
So i wait quietly and hope
this will all be over soon.

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Cockroach,  Cockroach , what are you doing in my soup,
In the kitchen I was playing hoop la hoop,
And I fell in you soup mister,
It's hot and I am getting blisters,
Scoop me with your spoon,
Before I swoon.
Please don't shout or scream,
I will be thrown out of the kitchen of my dream,
Filthy and messy,
With rotten fish, slimy and smelly,
Red meat in blood,
And fungi on sauces and salads with mould,
Never scrubbed,the kitchen,
For thousands of us it's heaven.
Be a pal,
Go away with your gal,
At least I did you a favour,
Not eating in this yucky place forever.
25/6/2019

I am a coffee mug,
Earthy, clayey, rotund and pouty.

I feel loved, embraced and wanted by you most times, other times I wonder.

I would rather be in your hands, kissing your lips and at least by your side in the outdoors or by the soft yellow light by your bedside where you linger with me and the brew lost in your thoughts or a beautiful book.

I live in harmony with your favourite blue wooden tray- my carriage, the small silver spoon- to stir up a storm and create music in me, and that cane worn out coaster that fits my round ample bottoms  so well.

I dream of holding magical coffee brews from lands close and far, dark.
Robust, wholesome that would make you moan in delight.

I sometimes dread that you read too much in wellness and what if you get influenced to drink less of coffee and fill me up with some detox potion, oh I worry about that so!

I am so majestic, grand and covetable and you love me so, so many options you have,
but to me is always where you go.

I stay awake humming while you sleep, in the morning I pour love into my crevices to welcome the brew just right for you.

The best thing I have done is to never give up on you but I just reciprocate what you do too💕

I sometimes carried brews so yucky for  you,
Despite your love, I feel guilty of needing constant validation from you.

My favourite time is bringing in the dawn together with you or watching the rain while you lovingly caress me watching the pitter patter of  raindrops on your windowsill.

The point of my life is to spread joy and give lovingly and empty myself for you.

I would like to be remembered as your forever favourite, giving, loving, being held till my last crack and then you make me into art to lie by your bedside  as your favourite coaster to welcome the new one
but I will be your forever one☕️

a plain man,                                        dwelling in the light & shadows,
receives the name of the Center, however, to read off the number
of prizes that are given to all harlots,               they that are called out
of the warm weather;    that it so far as we can do
w/ the sweat of the tongue; once used by the host to the love
of what makes a woman, and the woman, girl naked,
the eyes of the mother, "the tale of your young women
in the night, men, red light, the black people, the donkey
is the poet's; Space's beautiful face turning
to the Dead Hot Earth's Snooch at the foot of eons;
while w/                            the queen of the place, they are moving
from a king,           u are a boy, "1, although Green Latin America,
where for him is the Big choosing
                             of the Golden form
             of living life to dance poetry,
the Sun holding the silver in,     Puck is too aggressive
in the order of battle;               who proceeds from the devoted,
          out of the divinity of ******* hell,                into the city,
into a chamber that has a large stake
in the future of her *****
as the sea became as the blood of the poet  
& her words, we took this woman;
        1 really like the feel of her kid-skin,
                                                       the poet's hands, thinking
                that the entrance to the wisdom of God is the call
of the true moon,                 & recognizing the Steel history
                                     of the voice of the baby boy's dream
to make it to the middle of the road               & the wife of the General;
         Igor drunk but              going off to think of me,
the work is great;
the sallow skin of the saints,
             & children of three,
& he wanted to,         full from the start, walk,      
it is not true
& widely walked but not in the open air,
Medusa, in the book, that he turned, the stone
of the aperture of the interests of the State,
so that 1 feel that behind him, a young son
to always follow a character that ruthless
& savage,   out to the windy rock to meet the goat
that I had 1 he had promised gay Guy's leaving us
an ugly brown painting, but the white man
is there to eat the pear of Barbie, w/ the cat's ears,
& to hop back into the mouth to get to the mouth
of the mother; she had left the world
over the armor,                      the girl's best friend,
the tongue of the deep things of the form of John,
w/ his finger writing wet w/ harlots,
thou receiveth a fee that is gently inclined to yucky
company that keeps running,                     filled w/ French-Russian dogs
in the window                                       & totally invisible ******'s brains
have spread through the evils of the Western secrets;
you want a small mirror to be set up in the field
to download w/out asking as u stood up to speak,
use of which is the sound of a lot of guys,
the story is read,                                      strippers lay on top the instructions
of music to talk,                                      he turned it up lately;
She is my sister?                                     so 1 might go bound
in the Sandwiches as he defended us to the iron,
& w/ a dog to be squeezed out of the Clubhouse
& in the Aegean it is enough to scratch the wall
finishing a long time ago to support the stripper;
I will now take care to wait for the game Christ, 1
determined according to the money,    the most
standards laid over the legs,
as the Prophet's advice made him sleep
in a land smelling battle w/ a rich woman in yellow
& received six things pertaining to God from birth,
& from the air, & from floor alchemy is always less intelligent,
a machine's pulsing w/ power wearing *******,
Mary's original cops watching my cold dead Christ
in the sacred painting,                             angel sitting
on his bed; his friend's language unknown is written
in graffiti on the walls of the mom's life; [turning, a robot fell over a tree];
                 Top Hat Magic is the view which prevails
in the garden of the Science Prize Park,       however,
that the people may drink, they went out, beginning
at the toes & loved by him by means of Einstein's
Angels out of an open injury to the table of Bettie
in the flesh carried away by the wind; & the broken
glass enjoys the sight of the flames; others in the
Wilderness up her *** in every direction
of the News' guns becoming                           & spreading to the divine;
the hairy part is played by her navel in a dysfunctional
Center Museum; & Bob's Lady Dragons
who live in a clearly leather,         ******* free zone
talking ***** in the house, leaves, & south of socks
centuries,                          Christians' planet empty corporate crazy talk
bringing total misunderstanding to the parade
of burning lights;          feeling like they were
moving paradise simply but on that Friday,
the computer witch takes the Chinese pulse
for a lover feeling ghost sweat,     he would be invisible
to maintain the image of education; Jack in the shadow
of one second standing right there in the clothes
                                                        early dawn by way of Eve's income;
calling prostitutes because their type of knowledge
is thinly cut looking neatly in the lived        glory of her teenage years;
of many should face the start of the goddesses
        of Jews surprises the warm-chiefs of men at night,
it does not bare bright,        because of her Asian Spirit;
Abbas sleep called healthy redux artillery allowing
public visitors the radio station until the killer games
face food w/out teeth & smoke to women
                            alone w/ two kinds of force Kissing,
the buried pen,      like the motion carried & progressed
the goddesses of Jews, surprising the warm chief's mom
late at night,                        when it does not bare bright
because of her Asian Spirit; Abba sleeping,               calling healthy
redux artillery,   public visitor for the radio
until the killer games face food w/out teeth            & smoke to women alone with two kinds of force Kiss,
the buried pen like the motion carried & progressing

(To the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas) *

On the first day of Christmas my mommy made me
               A batch of my favorite cookies

On the second day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                           Two apple pies

On the third day of Christmas my mommy made me
                               Three basted turkeys

On the fourth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                  Four deviled eggs

On the fifth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Five pumpkin pies!!!

On the sixth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                    Six honey hams

On the seventh day of Christmas my mommy made me
                             Seven gooey brownies

On the eighth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                         Eight malted milkshakes

On the ninth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Nine banana muffins

On the tenth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                                    Ten yucky yams

On the eleventh day of Christmas my mommy made me
                           Eleven pickled peppers

On the twelfth day of Christmas my mommy made me
                               Twelve ears of corn

1 Screaming at all hours, sleep is my enemy. My greatest fear is loud sounds and bright lights.
2 Daddy is a tall giant and the smartest man in the whole wide world, mommy is the best mommy ever. Also, touching the fire on birthday candles is not allowed. Or singing at the table. Or watching scary commercials because mommy is tired of me waking her up at 3AM with my nightmares about the big hungry man in the commercial. My greatest fear is being alone in the dark.
3 I’m still too young to know real hurting, I’m unscarred and the greatest tragedy I’ve experienced is a skinned knee and having my favorite stuffed animal taken from me overnight for bad behaviour. My greatest fear is the day I get married and have to live away from my parents.
4 I’m too short to see myself in the bathroom mirror, the counter is in the way. My greatest fear is the monsters under my bed.
5 I have a birthday party and invite every person I know because I’m friends with everyone. My greatest fear is being in trouble with my teacher for talking in class.
6 I’m a big girl now, I can help mommy with dinner…by tasting her ingredients. I don’t understand why those people on the show daddy watches called The News **** each other. Why does anybody hate anyone? Why are grownups crying? Big girls don’t cry. My greatest fear is quicksand, but fortunately I have multiple plans on how to escape quicksand.  
7 Daddy is teaching me how to ride a bike without training wheels and it is scary and I’ve fallen off alot. He told me he wouldn’t let go! I can’t believe he lied to me! I cry and cry but look! Look, I’m doing it mommy! Look! CRASH. I’m starting to read big girl books more easily now. No pictures and only words isn’t as bad as I used to think. One day, I want to be a writer. My greatest fear is falling off my bike.
8 Boys are yucky, and not every girl is my friend anymore. It’s strange, the girls I used to play with have their own friends now. I’m not one of them anymore. A girl told me I was ugly and I felt this odd feeling in my chest like I was falling. Why did it hurt? The only things that are supposed to be able to hurt you are things you can see like knives (which I’m not allowed to use) or falling down, I thought. A girl tells me I am dumb. What a bad word to say, I’m NEVER allowed to say it. It is a mean and a bad word. When I grow up, I’ll never swear. I thought the bad guys were the only mean people in the world? I thought they wore black capes and lived in scary glowing castles like in the movies. The pretty girls in my class who look like princesses are saying things to each other and me that sound like the bad guy’s line in a movie? Why is this happening? I wish on the star every night like princesses do for the girls to stop hurting each other with their words. My greatest fear is that my wish won’t come true.
9 Did you know that fairy tales aren’t real? Did you know that it matters how your hair looks and where you buy your clothes and how many friends you have? Did you know other people care about what you have for lunch? Apparently, those things are true. I don’t like everyone anymore and not everyone likes me. People say some things to me that hurt my feelings and I make someone else cry because I said something just as mean back because I was angry. I didn’t mean to hurt them even though they hurt me. I do things I regret. Am I a bad guy now too? My greatest fear is of becoming a bad guy.
10 I am not a little girl anymore. Girls are turning on girls. Boys are liking girls. Not me of course, but other girls. Suddenly, everyone thinks they are a teenager. Someone calls me fat. Someone says I’m ugly. Someone says I’m dumb. Someone says I’m weird. I like a boy, but he could never like me. Less and less friends, life is growing uglier and far, far colder. Quicksand did not turn out to be as big a problem as I imagined when I was little. Suddenly, I grow up far faster than I should, because if I don’t, I’ll spend way too much time crying. The boys are playing a game at lunchtime, who would you marry if you had to marry someone in the class. One of the boys says he’d: “pick someone stupid like: My name.” Why did my name finish his sentence? “Then I’d shoot her in her sleep after we were married.” He finds out I heard what he said. He tries to talk to me, to apologize but I don’t want to speak to him. I refuse to cry over this. I’m not a baby. But it secretly hurts a lot. I never speak to him ever again. Not a word the whole year, or the next or ever. My greatest fear is being unwanted. And I am.
11 Boys are mean and girls are heartless and cruel. Girls hate me, I hate girls. I hate myself, I hate school, I hate hating everything. I feel worthless, why is everybody else so pretty and perfect? I haven’t been invited to anyone except my best (and only) friend’s birthday party for 3 years. I get invited to a sleepover with girls who don’t like me and I don’t really like them but I don’t know them too well I just know their names and when they think I am asleep I hear them start to talk in-depth about why I am ugly. Scarred. Humilated. Scarred. Broken. Mostly scarred. Why am I so ugly and worthless and fat and stupid? My greatest fear is the monsters inside of my head.
12 New school, new friends, new life. So happy. So, so happy and free. Friends who actually care about me. Friends who heal me. Closer than friends, like sisters. Not alone anymore. My greatest fear is losing all that.
13 Everything is perfect, and beautiful and I am so happy I could cry. I laugh all day and love my life. Until May. Then it fall apart. Jealousy, lies, family problems at home, pasts collide, friends are fake and sisters forever fades into a broken promise. I hate my friend but God, I love her like a sister even though I loathe her so much. It hurts it hurts and I start to feel ugly again. I scar myself, I do terrible thing to my body and myself. I only have a few friends left, but now I know who is loyal, and who never was. My greatest fear is everything that is happening to me as my world crashes, crumbles and burns all around me.

Many years pass, but my mind, soul, and heart are unchanged. Though my age grows larger, I never grow past it all. I’m reliving it all over and over, I still hate myself. Chained to 13.

Please repost if you are trapped in the past too.
Comment! I love to read other people's interpretations and thoughts on my work!

Everytime I hear No, its always .......MY FAULT
As the Brain drags me down this train of illogic
Anxiety Loops in unending Circles Spun to the Tragic
What can go wrong, then to feel like.......
Life has ***** me, And why is it always my Fault

The FIST FLEW out of Nowhere, Sucker punched*
Slow motion falling as a..........
Childs head bounces off the ground
Awaking to throbbing Pain,
My Pants around my Knees,
And why is it always my Fault..

For those who know what I mean
Others can't know what we've seen
Even if Its both Bad and Yucky
*Childhood is for the lucky..........JMF  9/28/14

Mama said be careful
Don’t talk to strangers
And don’t walk alone
Mama said to sit up straight
Keep your elbows off the table
And lock the doors when you get home

Mama said be patient
Be polite
Be a lady
Mama said not to sit on the grass
Not to stay in the sun
And go out only if it’s shady

Mama said be a good girl
But this good girl’s got to roam
This girl’s gotta spread her wings
And fly away from her home

Mama said a lot of things
Of this I know is true
But mama never said nothin’
‘Bout stayin away from you

Mama never said you’d hurt me
Or do me so wrong
She never told of your sweet kisses
Or the sadness you’d put in my song

Mama said that boys lie
But you were different; you were a man
Mama should have told me
“Girl, run as fast as you can!”

Mama didn’t tell me
But Ima tell mine
That men like you are icky, yucky things
And ain’t no better than swine

The guy at the diner failed to mustard Jake's hot dog
As he was eating it he felt as cold as a marsh frog
Yucky was the flavor without condiment
Chomping it down, a tasteless torment

As the fries on his plate were doing the backstroke
Having a jolly swim day in a puddle of oil
Asked for industrial towels to wipe up the slick
Before it caught wind of the Environmentalists

A complaint has been filed about their bill of fare
Nothing served over the counter would we wish to share
Placards will be shown over the Diner's facade
Warning customers of this ecological disregard

They won't water down their words like the Diner their drinks
Before you enter in you'll stop and think
About the Blue Plate Special with Salmonella on the side
Do you prefer your Botulism broiled or would you like it fried

Gastronomic delights such as they will make you pay
A stint in the infirmary is sure to come your way
With a tossed salad of pain, relievers, and antibiotics
Which none of the above will be deliciously exotic

If you can take the cooks looks and stomach the smells
Along with the service that's slower than snails
There's normally a coupon in the daily mail
Buy one get one free!
Ahhhh.....what the hell

Sometimes I feel like people are trying to pacify me, with a pacifier, when I'm actually throwing up.  But they don't see it. They literally do not see it.  And then they get mad at me for refusing to take the pacifier when it really isn't helping at all, in fact, it's making it worse.  You don't help people when you're not helping them.  When someone is throwing up, you don't give them something that will keep it in.  You help them throw up, you help them get that yucky stuff out of them, you get a towel, or a bowl, or take them to a toilet.  You rub their back, get them some tea, wash their face.  It's not pretty and it's not fun, but it's helping.  Pacifiers are quick and easy and take little to no effort on your part.  But when someone is throwing up, that takes patience, endurance, love, empathy, sacrifice, kindness, determination.  If you can't help, don't try to help at all, it may make it worse.

I am not talking about service here, I am and I'm not.  I'm talking about when someone is in a real problem, and they need the right help; if you can't give that right help, don't give the wrong help.   When someone is throwing up, don't give them a pacifier.

Morning again
A little after five A.M.
This is Christmas Eve day
There is no chimney here
To hang stockings by with care
So hanging them on the wall instead
And filling then with nothing
I simply make peppermint coffee
Having neither the ability or requirement of sleep
In my mind I have vague and dim recollections of Christmases past
Struggling to cope with the past
And even the present
I let go the good memories as well
And all memories are hazy
And afraid I have Alzheimer’s or MS
I long to recall my pleasant childhood memories
Blurry snippets of clothes and Christmas themed socks
And angel ornaments, every year an angel
And the big expensive gifts my little brother
THE MESSIAH got  
But now I write and remember the laughter
And the family stories
Mom read to us
Mom Sarah and Jamie
“The Night Before Christmas”
And “Santa Berry and The Snard”
And at the bottom of all stockings
At all Christmas’s Past
An orange and some Hershey Kisses
And I barely like Hershey Kisses
But I still ate them
Just like I ate black lickerish Jelly Beans on Easter
And those yucky, old people, candies in the brown and orange wrappers
On Halloween
I remember my aunts and uncles sending gifts
And my grandparents sent checks
Children cannot cash checks…sigh
And Hearing my father’s beautiful sermon
At Midnight Mass
And waiting for so long for him to come home from church
On Christmas morning
And hearing my mother shuffle around trying to get everything just right
James and I dying to come down stairs
“You can’t come downstairs just yet Santa is doing his finishing touches”
My Mother would yell up the stairs
Expecting us still to believe
When James and I begged repeatedly
I guess it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a chimney
Or anything to fill my stockings with
And Making an genuine effort to stop the Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come
Because I have now regained
My fondest Christmas memories
And that will bring me comfort and joy
Hallelujah!