Let there be silence

I'm having this shoulder thing. It started bothering me at the end of last summer. I can't pinpoint a particular incident that caused the injury although I think it can be attributed to the weighted work-out bars I just HAD to have for my birthday (shhh... don't tell Pete). In the fall I went to an orthopedic doctor and after the x-rays showed no bone problems, he suggested I have an MRI.

The last time I had an MRI was a very unpleasant experience. I was having migraine-associated vertigo, which they later confirmed as Meniere's disease, and get this; they forgot to give me earplugs. It was like being stuck in a clothes dryer with firecrackers. I mean, I really think my permanent hearing damage is because of that. Halfway through I remembered that I was supposed to have the earplugs. I started waving my hands and flailing my legs to get their attention. My ears rung for days.

So you can imagine what I said to an MRI last fall- no, thank you! I begged for a cortisone shot instead. The doctor wanted me to have physical therapy, but Christmas was coming up along with a pile of debt. I put it off thinking the shot would do the deal and I could be done with it. No such luck.

In fact, it has gotten worse. The funny thing is sometimes it doesn't bother me, except that I can't lift my left arm all the way; but when I try to do something like throw sheets out on a bed or fold table cloths, it hurts like hell. Over the weekend I had a horrible crick in my neck due to the tension from my shoulder. The combination of the two caused another migraine.

Luckily I had made an appointment last week after I discovered I could no longer shave under my arm and I had to wash my hair with one hand. Today was the day I went. Tomorrow is the MRI. I'll keep you posted... and I'll make sure I have earplugs this time.

Did You Say Soup?

Warhol-at-the-Grocery-store

They told him
...to check out the chicken soup--
it was good for the heart and soul
...that he'd need lots of tissue
so he chose heavy-duty, on a roll;
all the while wondering how the hell
he'd get inspiration from a bowl.





@laurie kolp


Prompt/picture inspiration: The Mag

Breech

She'd rather be hit in the gut by
a bowling ball than endure the labor
pains that crept up in the night like a
black bear. The doctor said to
cancel all plans for a natural child-
birth, the baby was a Buddha planted
on her seat, breech and budge
LESS it wasn't worth the risk; but
she worked her elastic squeeze
ball during the C-section anyway.

@laurie kolp


Prompt inspirations: 3WW (cancel, elastic, labor); Poetic Asides (risk poem)

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!

I’m feeling kind of fat today
it is Mardi Gras after all
and not to sound too cliché
but I once drank
like a fish on Fat Tuesday-
now I’m drunk on sugar.
Yes, I ate a veggie sub on wheat
so I could finish off the ice cream
much more than I thought was in that tub,
but I spooned it down like a sick kid’s Jell-o
no more caramel goo and sweet cream
no more dulce de leche for moi
in fact Häagen-Dazs can kiss my ass
I’m going on the (dairy) wagon for Lent
but right now I’m rolling down the street
feeling sicker than a Cajun on Ash Wednesday-
Laissez les bon temps rouler!

@laurie kolp

Whispering Waves



Photo by Mary Ann Potter

Do you hear the whispering
waves pleading for your
warmth?
Winter's wrath
a snobby woman
chilling to the bone
soon to be washed away
this erosion on bent knees
begs for the first breath of spring.





@laurie kolp

Picture prompt inspiration: IGWRT's The Sunday Challenge with Mary Ann Potter of From the Starcatcher

A Collect Call from Mars

image: epic mahoney

from the sky

an iridescent phone booth's

alluring aura

a magnetic coax
neon lit charismatic charm
drew the curious man

the inner depths
gateway to a cosmic land
to enter; risky

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: The Mag 105

Book brings back bad memories

Don't we all know a Hilly; an uppity social climber who will stop at nothing to get what she wants, the one that you just want to sink your fingers into and shake silly? In case you're wondering what I'm talking about, I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. Hilly is one of the characters in the book. This fictional character touched a nerve in my body and stirred up some old resentment I carried for quite some time.

 I never have been a cliquish person. I'm much more of a free spirit. In high school I flitted around from group to group always leaving my wings spread open; ready for a quick take off if cattiness began. When I started college, I felt compelled to join a sorority because that's what my mother had done. So I followed in her footsteps in the same sorority even though I liked another one better. That only lasted for a year. I transferred from Lamar to Texas A&M and used that opportunity to break away from the Greek life. They hunted me down and wanted me to affiliate, but I didn't. I never could get into all that ritual ceremonial fluff.

Then there's the Junior League. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of nice ladies that I know in the Junior League . But how does that old saying go- too many cooks spoil the broth? I'd like to change it to one bad cook spoils the broth. And that one cook was my Hilly.

This lady person had once told me that people knew to stay away from her.

"You never want to mess with me or you'll be sorry," she'd said.

I'd smiled and taken another sip of coffee, completely unaware that I'd be her next victim a few short months later.

Ugh. It makes me sick to think about it. Thank goodness she moved away, but not before making my life miserable because of a misunderstanding between... our daughters. I'm telling you, she was hell-on-wheels at the teacher's first little mention that her daughter was... bullying mine. Aren't girls like that at the ripe age of five?

"I won't be your friend if you don't give me your dessert," and "you can't color in the art station with us because ___ " (something so trivial I can't even remember).

 Yes, the teacher got way too involved when she shouldn't have. Yes, the mother blamed me (for how dare I tarnish her president-of-the-Junior-League reputation?). And yes, I cried myself to sleep for days. I just knew she was spreading malicious lies about me. Would I ever be able to show my face in public again? I withdrew into a shell for a few years.

My friend Mary who I speak about so often, the one who committed suicide, was the first friend I let into my life after that experience (I had another very special friend but she had moved away). Then Mary died. Back into the shell I went.

I can see how much of a learning experience the whole thing was. It made me stronger, more cautious; wiser, less naive. My faith has grown stronger. I now know that the only one who will never let me down is God. People have free-will, they make mistakes. I can't put too much faith into them, only God. Now I can live my life and let others live theirs.

But this Hilly character, I tell ya. I'd like to wring her neck.

***

Ethereal Aftermath

Photo by L. Kolp

*

Ike's invasion wiped us away

like a wolf huffing and puffing

it blew all the houses down

leaving nothing but vacant lots

and now I see a second shot

at happiness has begun with

plain white campers, no

vain colors- hot pink, lemon

lime or neon green- just

little homes with wheels

to escape; this vision, ethereal. 

*

@laurie kolp

**

Prompt inspiration: IGWRT's A Word with Laurie

***

Please join me Sunday at Flashy Fiction

A Good Morning

Was it finally quiet enough to hear the cardinal’s song? I had just finished cleaning up the thick bacon grease that had hardened like wax at the bottom of the microwave bacon cooker, grateful that it was able to drip down into the bottom of the container rather than my children’s stomachs. I placed the lid back onto the old coffee container and washed my hands. Outside the window over the kitchen sink, a ray of sunshine sprinkled on the morning dew. Perhaps today the rain would subside long enough for a walk. That’s when I heard the familiar chirp of my favorite red bird. Now I knew today would be good. I took a sip of orange juice and headed out the door.

Prompt inspiration: Flashy Fiction- Mike Grove's The Five Senses

To Be a Mock STAR (On Achievement Tests)

The teacher said they could...
chew gum, but not read(?)
after all the circles
were bubbled
choices made
work shown
instead
they should double
triple quadruple check
c-h—e—--c----k
over those answers(!)
for tHrEeeee long hours
not read
just chew gum
yeah, for three hours.

@laurie kolp

Black Silk

Photo: Christophe Gilbert

*
*
Swallowed in sin

bereft of moral decency

all inhibitions stripped

black silk like quicksand

left and right, she tries to turn away

resist the undying urge no one else understands

until Lady Godiva spreads her cunning charms on them

they can't resist temptation after that first luscious taste-

Death by Chocolate; today's splurge, tomorrow's repercussions
forgotten.

*
*
*
*

Photo courtesy of allrecipes.com

@laurie kolp

Photo prompt inspiration: The Mag 104 (formerly Magpie Tales)

The Intruder

Can you believe it?

Last night my dog was whining

he was sniffing ‘round the door

but when I tried to let him out

his tail went to the floor.

This morning I awakened

to a horrible mess

a critter had created

to get a peaceful rest.

I marched into the bedroom

woke my husband with a start

said that we’d been robbed

nearly stopped his heart.

(That’s what it takes to wake him up)

he jumped right out of bed

followed my direction

“A raccoon,” is what he said.

He checked behind the wall

which leads to the garage

the hole did not go through

but this was no mirage.

So now I must just sit here

and wait ‘til he gets home

go crazy with each little sound

and try to write this poem.

@laurie kolp

Distractions

I really should be writing
a poem right now,
but I’m too enthralled
by a virtual soap
opera on Facebook, and my
phone is beep-tweeting
by the milli-sec, second from
someone I don’t even know, but
who is carrying on a conversation
I happened to be @ed in.
Not to mention the raccoon
that tried to get into my
home last night, but that’s
what my poem’s going to be
about, so stay tuned.

@laurie kolp

Pimento Cheese Dip

A creamy concoction, a delectable paste
as finger sandwiches on melt-in-your mouth bread
or a hearty dip on crispy Ritz, a stolen spoonful taste
from birthday parties to New Year's Eve
nary a bit will go to waste;
homemade and easy
pimento cheese
if you please
mmm.

**
Recipe for Pimento Cheese Dip

2- 3 cups shredded sharp cheddar
½ - ¾ cup mayonnaise
2 small jar diced pimentos, drained
1 tbsp. Tony Chachere's Creole seasoning, or similar mixed seasoning

Mix together all ingredients and serve as you like. You may adjust the amounts to suit your desires. Enjoy!
**

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Poetry Jam- Recipes and Seasonings

Wednesday Offering

She tried to control her shaky
hand as the razor TA-touched
her leg
but
a prick, nick
too many and
blood
trickled
down
down
flesh
once again
a stream of vodka unconsciousness.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (control, flesh, razor)

R-rated Facebook pages?

Facebook is great until your child joins; then it becomes a malicious enemy stripping innocence. I didn't want to do it, but I finally relented after way too much discussion. After all, I'm nearly 13, M-oh-m. I obtained password, secured privacy settings and made it clear that I had final say on who is befriended.

Less than two weeks in and it's brought to my attention from another vigilant parent that a once sweet role model turned wild college freshman has entered the picture.

"Go check it out," my friend said.

And that is why I wish Facebook pages were rated like the movies, for what I saw was abhorrent... things like vaginal disorderly conduct, hard dicks, spreading cheer with a tampon igloo and penguin, not giving a damn; overall sucky attitude I was not about to put up with.

"Sorry dear, but if you don't remove that friend, I can remove you from Facebook." End of discussion.

Stoned Love

a grave at the Novodevichy Cemetery, Moscow

To free herself of strangulation
she found the strength at last,
but his heart remained
a stone in the palm of her hands.

*

Unrequited love entombed
a hardened heart forever cast.






@laurie kolp

Picture inspiration: The Mag, formerly known as Magpie Tales

The Prowler

Footsteps like staccato notes dart across
the patio covered in shards of terra cotta,
broken remnants of a petulant attitude
pushed to the limit, metallic fuses
sparked in rebellion when things aren't
going his way. Every scar on his lithe body
but a latch leading to internal exile
where dubious resentment boils, billows to
surging points of no return; and now he
cowers back to his home in the woods, tail
between his legs until the next time.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: The Sunday Whirl (staccato, dart, billows, ruins, metallic, exile, fuses, petulant, dubious, rebellion, latch, scar)

Also linked to IGWRT's Open Link Monday

Can't You Feel It?

I don’t have to see your
face or feel your touch,
hear your words whispered
softly in my ears. I don’t
have to hold your hand or
kiss your lips, cling to you
like Saran Wrap- airtight and
fresh. I don’t have to do these
things to want you; the vibes
come through the screen and
~ZAP~ I’m yours.

@laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration: IGWRT- Fireblossom Fridays: Temptation

***

Can you feel my smile, my cloud nine aura? I’m so excited to announce that my tritina won 1st place in the Poetic Asides Form Challenge and it will appear in an upcoming issue of Writer’s Digest. You can see the announcement and read my poem here.

Test the Water

You'd rather live with that silly little fool who can't open her mouth except to say "yes" or "no"…. ~Scarlett, Gone with the Wind


Yes is easier than no…
Yes, I’ll write for no pay
Yes, I’ll be there at nine
Yes, I’ll take that position
Yes, I’ll design a new sign

No is much harder…
No, I can’t ‘cause I’m broke (no, I’ll do it!)
No, I can’t ‘cause my dog threw up
No, I can’t ‘cause…hmm… I don’t want to
No, I can’t ‘cause I’m beat-up


It’s like hot and cold
this yes and no
from one extreme to the other
so take the time and think it through
dip your toes in the water;
no need to go undercover.

@laurie kolp


Prompt inspirations:
Poetry Jam- Cold and Hot,
Ella's Edge at IGWRT- line from movie,
Poets United Thursday Think Tank- Yes

Christian book is sure to please

Soon to be released NIGHT WITH A PERFECT STRANGER by David Gregory is the third book in his trilogy about Jesus appearing to character Nick Cominsky. Nick is a middle-aged man, married with two children and one on the way. He is on his way home from a visit with his parents that went sour when his father started drilling him about his career and comparing him to his more successful sister. Nick left in a huff at night instead of waiting until the next day when he was supposed to leave. He hasn't been on the road for too long when he runs out of gas. A stranger holding a gas can appears in front of him. After a closer look, Nick realizes it is the same man who came to visit him six years ago- Jesus. Jesus hops in and accompanies him on his trip back home.

Along the way they meet a man struggling with addiction. After a spiritual conversation over coffee and pie the man is transformed. They also visit a hospital where Jesus shows Nick a father rocking his premature baby. He tells Nick that God's love for us is much the same- unconditional, constant and forgiving.

As they near their destination Nick receives a call from his upset wife stating that she is spotting and on her way to the hospital. When Nick comes close to having a wreck and turns to Jesus, he is gone. Nick stops to help a woman whose car had gone off the road. It turns out to be his wife's spiritual advisor. He gives her a ride. They talk about God and spirituality. Nick is able to see the same thing Jesus was telling him in a new light: Jesus lives within us and we must listen to him and let him guide us through life. When Nick reaches the hospital he is led to Labor and Delivery. Jesus is waiting for him. Nick opens up his heart and lets him in, and together they walk through the doors to see what has happened.

What was Nick struggling with? What exactly does Jesus tell him? What kind of addiction does the other man struggle with, and what is their connection? Read the book and find out. You'll be glad you did.

Wednesday Offerings

Detachment Mode

She learned the hard way
to detach
----to keep an arm's length distance from the others---
rObOtIcAlLy, like Frankenstein
she walked through life
a jolt of betrayal; a surge of protection.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (detach, jolt, surge)

***

Hooked on Small Stones

Ten crows on the wire
in the fog, a black and white picture
a semblance of normalcy.

@laurie kolp

 Prompt inspiration: Poetic Asides (A habit poem)