Author: Linda G. Hill

stasis

nights
when i cant be bothered
to capitalize or apostrophize
i just wantwish
to be curled up on the couch
in your arms once again
going down
for hours
to sleep beside your faithful snores
your heat
and to wake to the pulsing
of the alarm
rocking
out the 69s
and 70s
and then
youre gone once again
leaving behind your scent
and me
without as much as an apostrophe
or a care to pinky a shift

puzz le

we appear the same, you and me
both have eyes and hands
and feet with which to walk away

but in truth we are opposite
diametric yin and yang
magnetic

a jigsaw
compelled to
complete itself

a go

after a long, hard, hot day at the office
i just want to lose my briefcase and
flip
off my shoes
p
e
e
l
off my dress
and then…

But you’re home. And you’re watching tv with a beer
The condensation drip
ping
from the edge of your bottle onto your white boxers as you
tip
it in my direction in a gesture of negligent cheers

there was a day, long a go when it was you coming home
all wet from the
rain
and i, lounging with my white wine on the couch in your boxers and nothing
else
your umbrella drip drip dripping on the floor unheeded because…

there are better things to do
always
Busy things to do and not enough drip
ping
After a long,
hard,
hot
day.

SoCS – The Second I Saw You

I knew the second I saw you that you would be mine. You might say it is cliche, but it’s true. My mind immediately raced to our wedding day – that I would place my ring on your finger and that in the spectators at our marriage day would be four or five of my ex-wives, bickering and scratching one another.

Catcalls from the orchestra section would be drowned out by the love, ringing in our ears and bells would tinkle above us. Oh the gloriousness of our child-bearing years! Our first-born would look just like me, or perhaps my sixth ex-wife, as by then I would be fooling around on you because you put on a few pounds from the many desserts I demanded you bake for me.

Now, my love, I stand in line at the seventh cashier from the right where I’ve followed you with my shopping cart from the frozen food aisle. I need only touch your arm.

We were meant to be. I know it in my heart.

This stream of consciousness fiction piece is part of SoCS. Click on the link and join in the fun!
http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-2714/

badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

SoCS – Where Inspiration Comes From

“And so, Mr. Lennon,” said the Chairman of the school board’s committee on Bringing Healthy Foods into the Cafeterias, “you need to work on introducing more meats and vegetables into your school. As Chief Cook and Bottle Washer, you are the man in charge of obtaining the groceries, are you not?”

“I am,” said Mr. Lennon. “I am also responsible for making sure I buy groceries the children are likely to eat. You have on the list,” and here Mr. Lennon unfolded a sheet of paper and propped up his spectacles on the bridge of his nose, “pork chops, chicken, carrots, corn, and broccoli.” He looked up from his paper and frowned at the Chairman. “And now there is another thing you’d like me to add to this horrendous list?”

The Chairman cleared his throat and leaned his elbows upon his desk.

“All we are saying, Mr. Lennon, is give peas a chance.”

This post is part of SoCS! Find it here: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-1314/

Badge courtesy of Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

Open

Talk to me. Tell me all you have to give. Intone your desires. Spew your needs. And then,

present your very self. Your soul.

Gesture your heart.

For the sake of love.

To me.

For what is the alternative?

It is the personification

of nothing.

Erectile Disfunction, The Limerick

There once was a man called ED
Who got it into his head,
It was time for a change
And so he exchanged
His ED for a handful of meds

Edited. Originally posted in the comments on this article: http://aopinionatedman.com/2014/08/26/i-give-up-2/

SoCS – Taste of Time

Left to my own devices
I slather my time
in colours of fruit:
cerise and orange, blueberry and golden delicious
on the walls
of my imagination
and then
I close my eyes
and taste what I have written.

This post is part of SoCS: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/08/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-1614/

Fit to be Tied

How should I lace you up? Should I tie your feet as well as your hands? I should probably strip you first. It will make it easier.

What is that? I can’t understand you with that gag in your mouth. Why are you moaning? We agreed to this.
Am I hurting you?

Fine, I’ll loosen the gag. Is that better?

Excellent.

First I’ll slip off your tie. Mmmm, silk. I love this tie. Now give me your hands and lean forward so I can tie your hands behind your back. What, you want them at the front. I… don’t think so. And lift your ass so I can pull down your… oh yes, you’re into this, aren’t you?

Stop struggling or I’ll truss you up like a pig. You don’t like that idea? No, I didn’t think you would.

First your hands. There we go. And then your feet. So nice of you to take off your shoes and socks at the door. Ah, yes, that’s right. You were expecting sex, weren’t you?

So glad we agreed that if I caught you cheating again I could do whatever I want to you.

Your lovers? I think I might have tripped one of them up on her way out the door. There were three of them after all, waiting here in my bed for you to get home from work, weren’t there? Apparently none of you were aware that I was home sick but still doing your laundry in the basement.

So where shall I begin?

Did you get the garden sheers back from being sharpened like I asked you to? I was getting blisters from trying to cut the hedges with dull blades. You did? No? I think you’re just saying that.

Never mind. I just emptied the water out of the high-powered Shop Vac I bought you for Christmas last year. It took me only three hours to empty the basement after the flood last night while you were out with the boys. I tell you man, that thing sucks so hard you could use it to pull the dandelions out of the ground, roots and all. What, not the sucking you were looking for this afternoon?

For God sake stop trying to scream. We agreed to this, remember?

What’s that you’re saying? You’re sorry? You certainly look sorry.

Just a minute, there’s someone at the door.
….
….
….
Good news. It’s your mother!

Originally posted in 2013 on The Community Storyboard.