I’ve always been the kind of girl who pushes myself to do things I’ve never done before. When I began writing poetry, I wrote entirely in perfect rhyme. When people started asking me if that was because I didn’t know how to write free verse, I decided I needed to learn. When I began working on my children’s poetry book, I realized I’d never written pieces for children specifically, so I set out to do just that. I’ve performed in front of crowds as small as 5 people and as large as 3,000. I’ve been in front of audiences in coffee houses, bars, schools, auditoriums, bookstores, ice cream shops & parks. I thought I’d pretty much done it all….until 2 weeks ago.
When Bombs Away Cabaret asked me to be a guest act for their latest show, I thought, “Sure, this will be like a bar show.” I was quite mistaken. A cabaret is vastly different from a bar. I had to reach much further into my college acting skills than I normally do. Typically, when I perform, my goal is to make the audience believe that I feel what I’m saying. In a cabaret, the performer needs to do that while also bringing quite a bit of sex appeal. Since I’m not what I would consider attractive, let alone sexy, this was a great deal more difficult. I am happy to report, however, that I did accomplish my mission by the last of my 8 shows and I can now add “cabaret poetry” to my portfolio.
My love and thanks to the men and women of Bombs Away Cabaret for their support and friendship. I’d also like to thank those of you who came to see us perform….”I can’t say that I’ve loved you all, but I’ve loved as many of you as I could.”*
And so, I leave you with the poems I performed the last two weekends and the video of my third show, recorded by Gary Charles of GSocialMedia.
Do you like me?
‘Cause, you know, for the life of me,
I couldn’t guess.
So do you?
Like in the way a boy likes a girl?
The nervous flutter of thoughts
and unrequited emotions
bubbling in your stomach
kind of like me?
The comfort in wrap of arms
and holding of hands
and twining of legs
and finishing of sentences
and listening of stories
and wanting to know
how I take my coffee in the morning
and how I take my love making in the afternoon
and how I take a shower
or a break
or a compliment
or how I’d take you if you told me that you liked me
kind of like me?
That was way too much all at once.
Just one question….
Can I kiss you?
That Barbie Poem
My name is Barbie
But I’m not a doll
It doesn’t say Mattel
Upon my heel.
I’m not the babe
Who sits on the shelf
I can think and speak and feel.
My hair requires no gels or sprays,
My cheeks aren’t a blushing pink.
My legs are shapely….
My chest is not,
If you press my back, my eye won’t wink.
I don’t have matching accessories
But I come complete with a brain.
I don’t have a dream house
Or a pink car,
And I wasn’t made to entertain.
So don’t tell me you undressed a Barbie once,
And that you’d like to do it again.
Because I am not a Barbie Doll
And you sure as hell aren’t Ken.
Don’t say, “Hi” to me.
See, you’ll say, “Hi” and I’ll say, “Hi”
and then we’ll start talking.
Small stuff at first, music, the weather, however eventually we’ll move onto bigger and better topics. We’ll talk into the nite and watch the sun rise outside Denny’s discussing just exactly why we didn’t stay with that last person we talked all nite with and how different everything will be this time. Pretty soon those late nites at Denny’s will turn into after work dates. And the next thing you know we’ll be at the crucial point in all relationships….when you meet my dog and i meet your friends.
I know, right now it all sounds like a fairy tale, and I see you nodding your head and saying, “Yeah, that’s precisely what I want in life….late nites drinking coffee with your dog.”
But just wait.
This unadulterated bliss won’t last long.
Because I’ve been there before.
See, this is the part where you sit me down to have that all important conversation about how I’m the “right girl at the wrong time”….but it’ll all be okay, because you want us to
However, that’s all bullshit because soon you’ll be going out with some vapid little slut who only cares about how trendy she looks and how popular she is and who’s main concern is how to get me out of the picture but you won’t notice any of this because all you care about is how to be the kind of guy she really wants, which could easily be obtained with a lobotomy and a cool new GQ wardrobe and you won’t notice all of her painstaking plotting of the demise of our friendship because you’ll have your head so far up her ass that you’ll have
the optimal view of her spleen and I guess all of this is okay with me since by that time I’ll be so heavily medicated with reuptake inhibitors and Wild Turkey that I will no longer care
where you go or who you screw with your new lying, cheating, self-centered, stuck-up, conceited, brain-dead, whore.
So please, don’t bother to say, “Hi”….
let’s just say, “Good-bye” now and let’s skip all of the bullshit in between.
Time stands still,
how still it stands.
The hours stall.
The statued hands.
Your voice is breath.
I strain to hear.
Your lips are soft,
behind my ear.
No nervous looks
nor awkward strain.
You have my heart,
you wear its stain.
Our bodies close,
not close enough.
I cannot taste,
I want too much.
your calming eyes,
by my thighs.
If time should stop,
should cease to be,
my one small wish,
is you in me.