poetry

Dare I say that I love my belly…

“I love my Belly..”

Although, I haven’t had one in awhile. I do now…. though brief; primarily from a monthly bloat…. but a BELLY nonetheless.

A Belly
-of Fullness
-of comfort
-of laxness

A Belly reflective of too much wine and cake
A Belly of too much laughter and late night folly

A nice bulge of roundness and suppleness..looseness and slouch

A plucked freedom from strictness and conservativeness. Relieved of restraints and firmness.

No high planks or sit ups. Not tight or tucked. A belly, my belly.

Out of my box for a moment…

A defiant Belly that says..”I don’t care right NOW! I’m tired, I’ll care (maybe) tomorrow.

A Belly that waits for TV and would rather eat than starve.

Plump and full, content and resurrected..For now..

I’ll be back on my self-proclaimed, perfectly created, road of perdition tomorrow…

(Maybe)

Silly Little Fishy

Out the tank you leaped..ignorant and deaf
buck eyed and free

Thirsty for more..bigger, deeper, seas.

Hungry for what you “thought” was on the other-side of the glass

Silly Little Fishy

“The lake has dried up..there’s no water here and the oxygen isn’t that good either.”

I watch as you gasp and flap. The shine of your scales begin to fade….open and
close your gills blow…

“Dammit!..Little fishy! I told you that the lake dried up. There’s no fresh water here!”

I scoop you fast, and drop quickly into the tank. Shyly, and breathlessly you thank me. We both laugh at your foolishness.

Silly Little Fishy..Don’t cha’ know that Big Cats like me… Eat little fish like you. You may wanna stay in your tank.

MANTRA