"babycakes" poems
your witty remarks
and hearty jokes
aren't very funny
i thought i'd tell you
before things got
out of hand
i don't appreciate you
calling me
*"sweetheart"
"baby"*
or
"darling"
you are no one to me
and those
nicknames are
reserved
for those who
actually know
how to treat me
as a human
not a plaything
just because
i was born a certain gender
does not
give you the right
to feel like
you have the right
to call me
what you want
and treat me
as you please
my ******
(yes, i spoke the forbidden, sue me)
does not
make me
better
or more
than any
other human
with
any other
*** organs
so next time
you're about to
open that
big mouth of yours
or
put your
arm around my shoulders
or
wink at me
you'd better
think
twice
i'm using
my words
nicely
but
i'm not
always going to be
so nice
unlike what you said earlier
i'm not overreacting
this is a natural response
to everyday sexism
and just because
society has become used to it
adapted to it
accepted it
does not mean
i will give in
or give up
or ever conform
to these
downright disgusting norms
i am a woman
that does not make me
inferior
to those of other genders
nor
am i superior
to anyone
well...
except, maybe,
you
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
I was suckling the barrel
of my grandpa's favorite gun,
when Gloria strolled in,
head held high,
like a 12-story *****
"What the **** are you doing?"
"Nothin', sweets, I was just wondering about the taste."
Gloria mixed herself a Mt. Vesuvius,
unplugged the telephone,
turned on the tv,
dug her nails into my weary couch,
over and over.
I didn't ask how her day went,
she didn't call me babycakes,
we didn't touch,
I just watched as she changed channels,
sunk further into oblivion,
I traced my kneecap with
grandpa's gun,
it was something to do, I suppose.
"You know you got to get out," she finally said.
I looked like a suicidal ******* baptized in cobwebs,
and every word I threw at every guest teemed parasitic.
I hadn't left the apartment for awhile,
it seemed like every time I did, I would collide with
some enemy, and my bloodlust was subsiding.
I didn't like it to be so awfully one-sided.
"Hey, look at me," she demanded.
Maybe the neurons are crippled,
can't cross the synapse,
or perhaps it's this culture that
listens only to the false priest in its head,
but when no one else around you is living,
it makes the whole gig seem a bit pointless.
"Gloria, sometimes it's better just to die."
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 3:51 PM UTC
she mostly laughs when she dances
you can see the delight
in her eye as we get to the concert hall
that her feet are singing along already
that shes just bouncin in her sandles
ready for the band to to start up
ready for the song to take her places she oh so loves to go
she laughs as she dances
and she got nothin on 'neith that dress
so she can move easy
and feel free
oh man what a turn on
and so is that pretty laugh of hers
always makes me smile too
love to watch her dance
love to love her
my dready babycakes
my night passion
my day love affair
take my arm baby
lets go see who's playin down at the club
maybe
we can get a giggle or two
maybe i can get 'cha dancin
just for me
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Peachy skin
Perfection in every way
So peaceful
No worries
Sudden smiles
Swaddled in his cacoon
His tender breath
Breathing in his infant scent
Innocent and untouched
Unblemished
angelic aura
Melts me
You are wanted
you are loved
simply magic
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
*Sweetheart
Babycakes
Love
Doll
Darling
Dear
***
Lovely*
Stop.
You're making my skin crawl.
I don't respond well to kindness
So, please, do as the rest do
And just call me a *****
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
My Valentines Day was aglow
with a giant cup of froyo
warmth of cuddles and hugs
silly gripping and tugs
that don't mean you're mine
but, honestly, that's fine
cause being best friends
is something that never ends
and I'm already expecting
to hear from you, texting
that you saw this
it's not really something I wanted you too miss
I don't expect you to comment
at any specific moment
but yeah, this is for babycakes
I'd do whatever it takes
to be with her forever
yes, honestly, I'll do whatever
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
The mish now buried in the mash,
the dog caught rooting through the trash
With litter scattered far and wide,
the pieces gather, the Cheshire hides
All lollygaggers out in front,
those last now first, a noble stunt
The blend what’s vital, layers bake,
Choo Choo Mamma—Potpourri Babycakes
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
…written while listening to ‘Come Together’
by the Beatles
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC