Welcome

I believe in being prepared for any given situation. It isn't because I'm a pessimistic person; I think it is just good common sense. Hence, I've entitled my blog "Even Nothing is Something."



This covers my butt in any event. On any given day I can feel great exaltation that I have done something grand. I can scribble fiercely when my thoughts are leaping across the meadows of my mind like a happy little colt in the month of May, or my mind and writing can be as dry and arid, as cold and without life, as the Gobi desert - because even Nothing is Something.



I want to thank all of my fellow artists who work through other means and forms and who sell their work on the wonderful artist's site "Etsy," a place to buy and sell all things handmade, along with vintage items and supplies for their craft. They are a great group of people.



Those who have links to their site on my blog represent only a few of those whom I wish to include. Just click on one of those links and join the Etsy community. It is free. They are a great group of artists who have relieved me of my money in the most delightful of ways. If it weren't for their encouragement, I would have never shared my work through this blog.



Thank you my darling friends!



Enjoy my blog - The Poet or Not - More or Less















Sunday, April 11, 2010

Well, By Golly

For someone who usually doesn't write song lyrics I'm outdoing myself. LOL This particular song should have been written first. I just didn't think of it. I'm still hurt, as would be any woman married as long as I have been only to find out her husband has thought her to be a sort of freak for the past years since two mastectomies relieved her of her bosoms. I chose not to have reconstruction. I don't regret it one bit! And, I don't regret having had cancer either, as this song will reveal. I now have hair, who needs boobs?

Twisted Man

A pair of distorted
eyes and a heart
without a heart, one
that knows no love,
turns away from my
chest, loathing the
scars where I once
had breasts. He is a
Twisted Man.

Do you really want
me now, Twisted
Man, or are you just
afraid of being alone?
Is that the only reason
you always call me
on the phone?

The Twisted Man
said he would love
me anyway, instead
he shoved me away
with contempt. How
can he resent that I
have survived, that
I'm still alive? The Twisted
Man knows no love.

Do you really want
me now, Twisted
Man, or is it guilt
that brings you here
anyhow? Should I
make my phone a
number unlisted?

While one remained,
the Twisted Man
loved me just the
same, but, when I
lost the other, the
Twisted Man had
to make me suffer,
much, a life without
a single touch.

Do you really want
me now, Twisted Man,
or do you see yourself
growing old? Are you
afraid of being left out
in the cold? Is that the
reason you wish I'd stayed?

People say: “How
wonderful that you
have survived.” But,
cancer was not my
greatest threat; it was the
Twisted Man whose
heart is bent; it is
he who has been
my greatest threat.

Do you really want
me now Twisted Man?
Do you really love
me now Twisted Man?
I can see clearly how
your mind might think.
What I see is so unkind.

I am not one who has
survived; I am one who
has thrived. Evil disease
has taken away my breasts,
but a gift has been left,
a closer look at life
and changed priorities.
It is the Twisted
Man who has died.

It is he who has
not survived. The
Twisted Man who
knows no love, the
Twisted Man who
wants me now. The
Twisted Man, says
he loves me now.

Twisted Man,
Twisted Man,
Twisted Man.
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1 comment:

  1. UnknownApril 22, 2010 at 1:49 PM

    Wow. That's a very strong piece of poetry. Lovely choice of words, and you bring them together so well.

    ReplyDelete

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