Ready

Karin:

From Unconfined…

Originally posted on Eclectic Unconfined:

It’s Friday afternoon and I’m starting early

Need some liquid courage to shore up my resolve

Tonight’s the night, I’ve made up my mind

Those cocoa eyes, you’re just my kind

Got your number in my phone
Woke up this morning
And I just knew in my bones
I’m ready as I’ll ever be
Finished this dance with Alone

Everything is outside my comfort zone

The world didn’t stand still for me

I can’t be sure that I’m still a prize

Sure as hell am older, don’t know about wise

Fell for sad stories and puppy eyes
Had to fend off the attentions
Of little Internet boys
Held old boyfriends while they wept
Their married boys’ lies

Bow right on target, 5.3 walk with me

‘Cause I got a feeling this is the sign

I wasn’t looking for, just like I said I’d wait on

Fingertip aimed, pick up before…

View original 12 more words

Meanwhile, Back At The Internet Café

I wrote this at the height of the “Gaslighting” phase of my two-year relationship with a Narcissist Predator. It’s really strange to go back and read my poetry and short stories from the period. Such highs! Such lows… So much love and romance but also black despair and suicidal tendencies. Scrolling through my journals, I found this draft and smiled a little. It is a sarcastic satirical and black-humoured piece. I was trying to cope with the assemblage of hoydens he’d gathered by writing about them the way he talked about them – never could figure why they just kept on lurking despite his insistence that “they were stalkers, knew he was engaged, were jealous of me”… Anyywaayy…
What I see now is the inkling of my comprehension of the pattern, how Apaths of varying degrees fit in to my story, lending credence, alibis or window-dressing as he required. Truly amazing, the effort he expended to keep me fooled or manipulate me to do certain things (my favourite was “Baby, would you comment more on my blog? People love to see us as a real couple, not just our books”) The funniest part is that “The Ladies” written about here are indeed real people, unlike some of the ones he created. Bruce Jenner had nothing on my poet! And I can actually smile, if ruefully at that today.

~~~~~

When I look back on how it all went down, I see it as if I was in a horror movie, a very bad, B-grade horror movie.

You know the ones, where you’re in a normal place, doing regular things and you look up to see that everything has gone to black and white. What you thought were people have all morphed into scary doll creatures or zombies and they’ve all turned to stare at you. Meanwhile, bit players drop in and out, talking to the zombie vampire people, buying their coffees, talking and laughing and totally oblivious to the fact that we are now all in a Hammer Film production. You look at this and wonder, like I still do; how can they not see the evil intent? How can they not know that those smiling mouths are full of lies and those pious old gals, gardening grannies and wholesome looking farmers’ daughter types are all bent on messing with lives out of unbridled jealousy and hatred and for their own twisted amusement? You want to yell, “Don’t open the door!” to the protagonist but… it’s you.

All of that came later though. When I first stumbled across it, the cafe was a fun place to be, good eats, good coffee and the owner had a smile and a poem for everyone. It was easy to see that the regulars at the banquette table at the back were indulging in some pretty serious geriatric flirting with the Café owner. He took it good naturedly, and it was nice to see that even those who could barely spell; always received a kind word of encouragement. There were no signs of the undercurrents of crazy when everyone connected to this story first met. Actually, in a Stepford Wives way, the regulars welcomed newcomers in.
That’s how I first became acquainted with them. The Ladies. Or as I later came to think of them: The Post Menopausal & Poseur Poetaster Club, of the Internet Poetry Café.
I like alliteration. Deal with it.

You remember how it was, right? Lots of laughs, inspiration and folks coming and going at all hours, The Ladies gathered at their table; Hist’mina Munchhausen Fibthorne – “Wheezy” to her friends, Maia Witless Artesian, Guerensy Rime Mooerson and Cheri Del’Usional Aprils. All chatting it up with the cafe owner, smiles, moues, coy glances and “What do you think of my stories?” “Can you help me with this sonnet?”

Who ever would have guessed that such ordinary looking grannies, could harbour thoughts worthy of “Arsenic and Old Lace”, not to mention a healthy dose of “Fatal Attraction?” Fitting analogy that. A tale of sinister plots, deceptive old dolls and a plot twist: married and attached gals who would lie, cheat and write their own men out of the script for a chance to get into the handsome Café owner’s pants.

I never would have guessed, naive I suppose. I saw a nice place to stop in to, my battered journals in hand and to share some thoughts with the regulars, The Ladies of the Banquette. Mentors, right? That’s what I was thinking at first.

Monsters, more like.

More like indeed! Like attracts like doesn’t it? As the Café grew in popularity, newcomers joined the original self-appointed harem.  Des DoubledipmyBunn and Anglésa BlueWindyChapeau decided to write themselves in. Fortunately, the Café owner was more a fan of Albert Camus than Archie comics.

Then there was me. Quietly observing, scribbling away as I always had . How could I know that the Café owner would take an interest in my stories? Who ever would have thought that this would so stir the ire of The Ladies and later, their minions? Not me. That’s for damn sure. I walked in there like a lamb to slaughter, they had their poisoned pens aimed and the hot flashes got hotter.

But that’s another story for another day…

~ kei
2013 sometime…

Aside

It’s always so painfully obvious when a post of this nature is in order.

People do not volunteer negative opinions, slander or lies about another person without some sort of personal agenda.

If you blindly act on unverified information, you do the victim a huge disservice.

Worse, you do a disservice to yourself.

I’m a Law Clerk. Both sides are heard before judgement is passed.
Makes sense, n’est-ce pas?

Beware Of The Half Truth

Oh Canada!

We are celebrating Canada Day and I expect to be away from any electronic distractions and so, a post of my usual ADD / Two AM thoughts / Random about Canada, Canadians and love of place.

canada flag photo: Canada1 canada1.gif

~~~~~

A little bit of sass and humour:

Oh! My baby makes me feel so fine
My crabby but sweet little porcupine
Lovin’ her, it hurts so good
Just like my Mama said it would
Her quills are tipped with Love Potion #9
My prickly and funny valentine
You know I ain’t never gonna leave her
Cause she’s my red and white hot-blooded
All tattooed and studded
Best Canadian Beaver!

Oh Canada…

(Original post on Eclectic, August 2014)

~~~~~

The musical interlude:

The Maple Leaf Forever” should have won but I’ll be belting “Oh Canada” in both official languages.

and

~~~~~

The true sentiment of the day and a flourish of flag:

I have lived here since the world began and Kanata just a village. I have been a Loyalist. I have been an immigrant. I have been a British Home Child, a War Bride, a disgraced European noble and the Prime Minister of Canada. Every shade of the rainbow and from sea to shining sea…

I am Canadian and Canada is Me.

Canada Day 2013~ kei
1 July 2015

Impulsive

This headlong rush
This tumble
Stumble
Into the two of us

This falling down
This trip and dance
Chance
Into the new of us

Out of character
To make a first move
Nothing to prove
Just a tidal pull
A patchouli, pheromone command
This phone and your number in my hand
I push
Those waves, those bandwidth waves
And a glowing apple moon
And I am not me, I am she
Calling you to me
Connection irresistible
Who knew a first move could make me feel
So very
Deliciously disreputable

~ kei
29 June 2015