Morbid Poetry that Rhymes

I would like to tell you a little something about my daughter.  She has always been an extraordinary poet.  She would have assignments for school to write poetry as far back as I can remember (probably middle school)  and could write something within a matter of minutes that would blow her teachers (and me) away.  I would encourage her to write on her own and keep a journal, but she would always say the same thing,  "I don't like writing poetry, Mom".  This was definitely NOT music to my ears; I saw the talent she had and it crushed my motherly soul.

In the last year, my daughter has grown considerably as a person and what an incredible person at that.  She has now started writing poetry on her own.  Jumps for joy!  What I find funny, though, is that she has such an easy time rhyming her poetry and she struggles writing WITHOUT rhyming.  When I write, I struggle to rhyme and rarely do it.  In fact, I think out of the 300 poems I have written only two actually rhyme.  Needless to say, we are opposite on that front.

She has just started a new blog that she will be adding some of her poetry to as well as other posts, so I highly recommend you check it out:

Mollie-Esque

Just to show you that my talents do NOT lie in rhyming poetry, I thought I'd share with you one of my very morbid poems I wrote in 2008. Let's just say that I was not in a happy place.

Dead on a Sunday

swallowing our poison

on the count of three

a romeo and juliet

of echoing pleas

tastes of bittersweet

still guiding me

i am swimming in circles

and drowning at sea

we will die together

in a mystery

dead on a sunday

'twas meant to be

2/28/08

There is no particular reason for this picture.
I just thought it was super cool.

What's More Depressing Than Anti-Depressants?

If you've ever taken anti-depressants, then you probably know how depressing they can be to take on either a long-term and/or short-term basis.  The side effects alone can be devastating enough to make you want to quit taking them.  I love when you see a commercial for any medication where the list of side effects goes on for over half of the total commercial time.  And a lot of times 'death' is on the list.  Well, I guess if you check with your doctor first, you might be okay.  Whaaaa?

To me, there's nothing worse than having sexual side effects from an anti-depressant. What is more depressing than this?  Nausea?  No.  Dizziness?  Nope.  Being in a fog?  Not really.  Zombie-like state?  Don't mind that one too much.  Sexual dysfunction?  Wait.... what???  Are you f#ucking kidding me?  If we have only one, small ounce of joy in our lives, even if for a brief 10 seconds, would it not be SEX?

Apparently several years ago I was on such a medication and quite fed up.  Previously to this, I was encouraged to start writing poetry as a method of therapy.  I guess I did just that and this poem I wrote about my 'dysfunction' is what I would call pretty straightforward.  It's called "Pills and Orgasms".  It's humourous to me now.  Not so much then.  And today is your lucky day as I am sharing it with you.  I should have sent it to my doctor and told him it was part of my therapy plan.  :)

pills and orgasms
they just don't mix
doctor says come on, take 'em bitch
and get your fix

but, you see, doc
my fix is bliss
that cums from hot sex
and a wet sloppy kiss

i took the pills
just like he said
i went down on my man
and gave him some head
 

he then turned on me
and boy i was ready
i said, yeah baby, just like that
slow, nice and steady
 

we tried for hours
and much to my dismay
no orgasms for me
so maybe another day

i went back to the doc
he said, sorry, that's the game
i want a different pill, i said
one with a different name
 

he said they are all alike
no matter what you do
i said, forget it, asshole
'cuz if i can't cum
i'd rather be blue

july 12, 2007