New residents in my brain

Definitions, regulations and rules
File in, uniform and in perfect order
See all of the empty spaces

Smile smugly
Unaware of the fate
That truly awaits

In the other room
Where random chaos
Plays the warden

And before a chance to settle in
A whirlwind collects them
And takes pleasure in his work

Muliebrity (The sense of being a woman) - Dictionary.com word of the day

Boobs – check
Although a little lower

Vagina – check
Although a little wider

Sense of humour – check
Although a little more peculiar

Children – check
Although a little messier

Muliebrity – intact

Merry Go rounds and out of sequence clocks - a villanelle

In the aftermath of this painful shock
Invisible sucker punch right to the gut
Time skews and confuses tick from tock

Unbeknownst at the crowing of the cock
Life’s insanely fast pace in a sudden rut
In the aftermath of this painful shock

When did the heart become the rock?
And from which lecture do I rebut?
Time skews and mixes tick from tock

Genuine truth takes a stop to mock
From the very cloth I was surely cut
In the aftermath of this painful shock

Every few seconds I glance at the clock
As I sit here and wonder where from what
Time skews and confuses tick from tock

Does this heartache fall upon the block?
Classic lines disguised in vulgar smut
In the aftermath of this painful shock
Time skews and confuses tick from tock

Silly dreams on rainy days

My sister prays “Rain, rain, please go away
So I can go outside to play”

But I say “No, no rain you must stay
I don’t want to play, or pray on this clammy day”

“Stick in the mud” she glibly replies
I might have lied but instead I do confide

Yes, I am indeed stuck in the mud
Want to be up to my neck in thick soapy suds

When the toddler sleeps, I want to steep
Until all of my worries slowly, slowly, creep
And the world so quietly slips away
And finally for once I get the very last say

But I all I can do is deeply, deeply sigh
As that dream painfully dies with insistent cries

And I’m still stuck, in the yuck
This, of course, is just my luck

Idle Hands - a poem

In the lonely echo of the night
The spot next to me
Is empty

Like my hand
Where it sometimes
Wraps around
Moves ever
So slow
Up and down

your brain.

Ode to snot

I have a cold yet again, I swear to god that this house should be deemed the house of snot or germs.  Kids are on spring break so I can't even blame it on the institution of learning.  Not sure why every time I take time off I get sick.  It's like my body says "We ain't getting paid" and shuts down.  My body has a union and apparently the contract is up!

Finnegan is also full of snot and everytime he sneezes he wipes his arm across his face to ensure complete snot coverage.  It's pleasent.  Between the snot and the poop I'm not surprised I'm sick.  Kids are gross, with a capital G.  Good thing they're cute.  Right now Finnegan is in front of me running in circles, giggling like mad, speaking some foreign language as he goes.  Cracker bits and snot are flying everywhere.
I swear I need to have someone come in with industrial strength anti-bacterial pressure washers to spray  this place down.  Finnegan is yelling at me and smiling so he obviously agrees.  Not much to report on this week.  Everything tastes like phlegm. 



Ode to snot

Oh wonderful snot, bright and green
Oozing from this hazy bean

Filling up my every pore
Lovingly packed to my very core

Sticky, gooey, germs they run
Kicking back and having fun

Flying out with every sneeze
Dancing on the chilly breeze

Singing songs of silly schemes
Smiling through these web filled dreams

Climbing up and pulling down
Always green and never brown

Oh wonderful snot so full of grace
Sticking to this cranky face

In need of a teddy bear - a poem by Shan

In gloomy darkness
The vague sound of rubber
Splash by on wet roads

Chubby raindrops knock
Against chilly window panes
Echo through my heart

Every resonance
Kick starts already fragile nerves
Stomps air out of lungs

Until the pressure
Constricts all rational thought
Where now fear remains

Needed: Lint brush - Haiku

Scattered like cat hair
Small fibres of melancholy
Cling to my sweater