Hey there everybody!!! ♥
My name is Arianna, people call me A.C.
So I was told to make a blog...so here I am.
Well today's topic is IN-LAWS....
My mother and her "life partner" (I call him that because my mother is uncomfortable with that title, not because it makes same sex couples feel less than human but because it implies that she is in a same sex relationship. And until she gets pass her homophobia, I will beat acceptance into her...)
Anywhoo...her life partner's family is in town...so I was asked to come meet them. They were cool. But have you ever felt that underlining tone when you met someone? Like this unspoken..."I'ma kick yo ass if you cause me problems"? That's the feel I got when I walked in, not in the mood for bull shite.
These people talk about everything. I mean EVERYTHING. It doesn't matter if it doesn't matter, as long as they can get off to the sound of their vocal chords working out...I mean we had odd pauses in the conversations...and someone would fill it with random talks of pigs, dead bodies, zombies, birds, fog, motels...etc.
I mean out of all the things to talk about when you first meet a person...no, let's focus on aliens, and noise pollution. I'm 19! WTF...GRRRR!!!!
I'm enduring this as we speak, I've just decided to go to my happy place.
A place where there is poetry...GOOD poetry...Watermelon Arizonas, Itis Burgers and Law & Order: SVU. I'm ready to go.
My advice to anyone meeting your step parent's family...bring headphones...medication and a bible.
So you can drown them out with music, and when you snap from intolerable boredom you can blame it on the meds and hope that one of your parents will quote a scripture and pray over you...
*slowly creeps towards front door*
I'm outty
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Pink Ribbons (Breast Cancer piece)
Part of my body
has been decomposing
little bits of death tickle my extremities
I bet you couldn't tell me
what a nervous laugh really sounds like
it strokes my bosoms
knowing that's what I'm into
but for some reason
this feels awkward
Grim reaper juggling pebbles of cancer
let it rest in my breasts
while you take a break
i am a loser now
my chest buried
with my confidence
locked away like a time capsule
keeping track
of what my top half is missing
Breast Cancer;
isn't reconstructive surgery
it's not taking a silicone back out
because your body rejected it
it's a satirical statement
God made and reneged
just to take a poll to see
which part was funnier
It's clear what was done out of spite
my shirt just hangs a little looser
hair a little shorter
the radiation from my chemo
has shaken my tolerance for medicine
out my system
I am reminded every day
of what i don't have
what little girls
who own a little too much money
and not enough fat have
silicones are just insensitive responses
to the lumps underneath my skin
who knew breast cancer
could be sought after this much
God uses my rib cage as his punch line
placing pink bracelets around wrists like shackles
as if you could comprehend
what it means to be a prisoner to your own body cage
a roaming zombie
anticipating grave sites
because this chamber,
whispers my eulogy
every time my immune system fails me
death rests above the soul
while my faith has taken a suicidal dive
What is there to hope for?
The one thing that defines me
Is the same thing you're now denying me.
Pink Ribbons cloak my prognosis
while the symptoms line dance between my cleavage
nip/tuck my nipples
and tattoo a purple heart where my chest use to be
You say, "Cancer, is not a death sentence."
But who's the one dying?
has been decomposing
little bits of death tickle my extremities
I bet you couldn't tell me
what a nervous laugh really sounds like
it strokes my bosoms
knowing that's what I'm into
but for some reason
this feels awkward
Grim reaper juggling pebbles of cancer
let it rest in my breasts
while you take a break
i am a loser now
my chest buried
with my confidence
locked away like a time capsule
keeping track
of what my top half is missing
Breast Cancer;
isn't reconstructive surgery
it's not taking a silicone back out
because your body rejected it
it's a satirical statement
God made and reneged
just to take a poll to see
which part was funnier
It's clear what was done out of spite
my shirt just hangs a little looser
hair a little shorter
the radiation from my chemo
has shaken my tolerance for medicine
out my system
I am reminded every day
of what i don't have
what little girls
who own a little too much money
and not enough fat have
silicones are just insensitive responses
to the lumps underneath my skin
who knew breast cancer
could be sought after this much
God uses my rib cage as his punch line
placing pink bracelets around wrists like shackles
as if you could comprehend
what it means to be a prisoner to your own body cage
a roaming zombie
anticipating grave sites
because this chamber,
whispers my eulogy
every time my immune system fails me
death rests above the soul
while my faith has taken a suicidal dive
What is there to hope for?
The one thing that defines me
Is the same thing you're now denying me.
Pink Ribbons cloak my prognosis
while the symptoms line dance between my cleavage
nip/tuck my nipples
and tattoo a purple heart where my chest use to be
You say, "Cancer, is not a death sentence."
But who's the one dying?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
A Silent Lullaby
I want to sing you a lullaby
But you'll never hear it
You'll never know the melody of music
that my love would have made for you
Instead, I wrap your remains in tissue paper
send you off to God
My womb and I decided you over stayed your welcome
so I made you leave
collapsed your safe haven; exit only
clenching onto my walls leaving with a fight
you never cried
just left me with heavy tears
staining everything
so that I will never forget
who i forcefully miscarried
I made my decision
that "you weren't worth having
because my life was worth keeping"
I disagree with that statement now
I wanna sing you a lullaby
but you won't hear it
the lyrics won't make your ultrasound picture fade from my memory
My uterus is now hollow ground
I am forever haunted with what once was
We held your funeral in my bathroom
carved your eulogy in my flesh
I never allowed you to leave footprints outside my womb
you weren't worth much to your father (either)
just an incident that needed to be taken care of
but his body didn't cradle you like mine did
he didn't feel you asking for your mother
while you were being deleted from my system
thunderclouds, are just aborted babies that never got the chance to cry
never got the chance to learn their song
lullabies usually stop the crying
but who's gonna sing to me?
tell my womb to stop grieving
mourning the lost won't bring you back
turning bodies into grave sites
clinics into death sentences
I don't know how to be a childless mother
how to rub an empty belly
and cherish first words and tiny hugs from an absent baby
you're with God now
a thundercloud teasing my sunny days
I've been using your father
too afraid to be alone
so I keep him around
my thoughts are cheering demons taunting my sanity
telling me I killed my purpose
you were something we didn't need
something I couldn't handle alone
told my body that it needed to malfunction
babies won't live here anymore
hearing the pulse of something else
a clicking timer
waiting for me to leave
let these demons lynch my soul
It dangles inside of me
I don't deserve to exist
I'll evict my soul from this life
search for you in the heavens
find my thundercloud
sing you that lullaby
so you can finally get the chance to cry
But you'll never hear it
You'll never know the melody of music
that my love would have made for you
Instead, I wrap your remains in tissue paper
send you off to God
My womb and I decided you over stayed your welcome
so I made you leave
collapsed your safe haven; exit only
clenching onto my walls leaving with a fight
you never cried
just left me with heavy tears
staining everything
so that I will never forget
who i forcefully miscarried
I made my decision
that "you weren't worth having
because my life was worth keeping"
I disagree with that statement now
I wanna sing you a lullaby
but you won't hear it
the lyrics won't make your ultrasound picture fade from my memory
My uterus is now hollow ground
I am forever haunted with what once was
We held your funeral in my bathroom
carved your eulogy in my flesh
I never allowed you to leave footprints outside my womb
you weren't worth much to your father (either)
just an incident that needed to be taken care of
but his body didn't cradle you like mine did
he didn't feel you asking for your mother
while you were being deleted from my system
thunderclouds, are just aborted babies that never got the chance to cry
never got the chance to learn their song
lullabies usually stop the crying
but who's gonna sing to me?
tell my womb to stop grieving
mourning the lost won't bring you back
turning bodies into grave sites
clinics into death sentences
I don't know how to be a childless mother
how to rub an empty belly
and cherish first words and tiny hugs from an absent baby
you're with God now
a thundercloud teasing my sunny days
I've been using your father
too afraid to be alone
so I keep him around
my thoughts are cheering demons taunting my sanity
telling me I killed my purpose
you were something we didn't need
something I couldn't handle alone
told my body that it needed to malfunction
babies won't live here anymore
hearing the pulse of something else
a clicking timer
waiting for me to leave
let these demons lynch my soul
It dangles inside of me
I don't deserve to exist
I'll evict my soul from this life
search for you in the heavens
find my thundercloud
sing you that lullaby
so you can finally get the chance to cry
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Freewrite #8
You look like someone I could learn to hate
that has all the potential in the world to ruin everything
I've worked so hard to keep sacred
but I like being ignorant
being a dunce has gotten me
kisses, sleep overs
cherished rose petals, incompleted poetry
ignorance is really a blissful affair
put my emotions in a coffin
feelings are lifeless remains stuck in pheromones
embedded in DNA
so I keep scraping my skin
my relationships, played catch with death wishes on a weekly basis
being alone became a hobby
my first kiss was a hit and run operation
staying too long would have led to consequences that
baptize premature emotions into infatuated holy water
and I've been making drive-by love every since...
that has all the potential in the world to ruin everything
I've worked so hard to keep sacred
but I like being ignorant
being a dunce has gotten me
kisses, sleep overs
cherished rose petals, incompleted poetry
ignorance is really a blissful affair
put my emotions in a coffin
feelings are lifeless remains stuck in pheromones
embedded in DNA
so I keep scraping my skin
my relationships, played catch with death wishes on a weekly basis
being alone became a hobby
my first kiss was a hit and run operation
staying too long would have led to consequences that
baptize premature emotions into infatuated holy water
and I've been making drive-by love every since...
Ten Fingers I
(Ten.)
Never have I ever been a drifter.
Roam streets so long that pavement became brittle steps; I called it my breakthrough
(Nine)
I no longer use my mouth to verbalize
my cervix speak in parables
37 to be exact
which story should it convey today?
inscribed in my vagina are the signatures of fractured self esteems
crumbling into my labia
like words falling out the heads of the illiterate
Didn't ask to be fluent in these conversations
(Eight.)
I've never been a milk carton model
Half a decade invested in this world
never got to blossom
her bloom withered into the drowning pool of her mind
couldn't form sentences
life span cut short
thoughts are just leaches for speech
aching to say something
but death spoke first
(Seven)
No one told me I could've been a victim
that murderers don't discriminate against babies
Shaniya Davis
-Sara Kruzan
just 5
-only 13
their bodies became waste lands for potential liberation
visited their genitals without passports. no green cards
just foreign raiders.
mistaking death cries for orgasms
(Six.)
Shaniya Nicole Davis' body was discovered off side a road November 16th, 2009
too young to fully produce her virginity
so he took her joy
knew it came with violent side affects
so he tried to strangle them
now seeping through her rotting corpse
decomposing in a casket...somewhere in North Carolina
restless
her spirit is still trapped in that hotel room used as the battle ground for her life
(Five.)
Sara Jessimy Kruzan expected to die in prison
her pimp put value on her body
Judge says now she can never earn her freedom
age sixteen; shot shocks into his neck
he invested artistry in his own death for years
all she did was vandalize his insides with
a bullet; grotesque artwork
she just wanted to show the world her painting
(Four.)
Festered Flesh forced into the ground
two dead bodies
decapitated futures
both out of spite
both murders
(Three.)
After tracking trafficked bodies
what do the numbers do?
Statistics never resurrected lives
never got raped victims off parole
just a skeleton of reality
remains are just the devil's souvenirs
a reminder of sins
the emblem of failure
(Two.)
Never have I ever been a martyr for prostituted children
fathers have killed our innocence
fathers have contorted our minds
have left passion marks on our bodies
slaves being iron branded by their regulators
wrapping their egos around their cosseted "privates"
while we cradle our innocence
yet only he still has his possessions
Shaniya Davis, your vagina is no longer the battle ground for shattered self esteem
Sara Kruzan, he can't clutch his manipulation around your mind anymore
However death, hasn't made either of you free
has it?
Sara, your cervix now only speak in parables
what story is it conveying today?
how will it end?
How many brittle steps must you take
before you finally have a breakthrough?
Never have I ever been a drifter.
Roam streets so long that pavement became brittle steps; I called it my breakthrough
(Nine)
I no longer use my mouth to verbalize
my cervix speak in parables
37 to be exact
which story should it convey today?
inscribed in my vagina are the signatures of fractured self esteems
crumbling into my labia
like words falling out the heads of the illiterate
Didn't ask to be fluent in these conversations
(Eight.)
I've never been a milk carton model
Half a decade invested in this world
never got to blossom
her bloom withered into the drowning pool of her mind
couldn't form sentences
life span cut short
thoughts are just leaches for speech
aching to say something
but death spoke first
(Seven)
No one told me I could've been a victim
that murderers don't discriminate against babies
Shaniya Davis
-Sara Kruzan
just 5
-only 13
their bodies became waste lands for potential liberation
visited their genitals without passports. no green cards
just foreign raiders.
mistaking death cries for orgasms
(Six.)
Shaniya Nicole Davis' body was discovered off side a road November 16th, 2009
too young to fully produce her virginity
so he took her joy
knew it came with violent side affects
so he tried to strangle them
now seeping through her rotting corpse
decomposing in a casket...somewhere in North Carolina
restless
her spirit is still trapped in that hotel room used as the battle ground for her life
(Five.)
Sara Jessimy Kruzan expected to die in prison
her pimp put value on her body
Judge says now she can never earn her freedom
age sixteen; shot shocks into his neck
he invested artistry in his own death for years
all she did was vandalize his insides with
a bullet; grotesque artwork
she just wanted to show the world her painting
(Four.)
Festered Flesh forced into the ground
two dead bodies
decapitated futures
both out of spite
both murders
(Three.)
After tracking trafficked bodies
what do the numbers do?
Statistics never resurrected lives
never got raped victims off parole
just a skeleton of reality
remains are just the devil's souvenirs
a reminder of sins
the emblem of failure
(Two.)
Never have I ever been a martyr for prostituted children
fathers have killed our innocence
fathers have contorted our minds
have left passion marks on our bodies
slaves being iron branded by their regulators
wrapping their egos around their cosseted "privates"
while we cradle our innocence
yet only he still has his possessions
Shaniya Davis, your vagina is no longer the battle ground for shattered self esteem
Sara Kruzan, he can't clutch his manipulation around your mind anymore
However death, hasn't made either of you free
has it?
Sara, your cervix now only speak in parables
what story is it conveying today?
how will it end?
How many brittle steps must you take
before you finally have a breakthrough?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Prom Queen (Sexual Assault Awareness Poem)
June 6th 2008
@ approx. 10:48pm
I became the prom queen
ceremonial induction song
Alicia Keys-"No One"-blasted
being honored
for charm, feminine ways, beauty
front seats-doors locked
spotlight on
he wanted to crown me
reluctant, he told me "5 minutes"
told him "NO"
black dress, blue slit, his car
pressing pain into pussy
patiently waiting for nothing
forced lubrication
making him easier to swallow than what he made me digest
I HATE DRESSES!
"Easy access," he says
"you'll enjoy it...eventually"
was happy just being a princess
Cinderella had til' midnight
eight minutes had gone by
watery eyes
he didn't care
as long as one of my holes were wet
i was not his first
finger fucking forcing my faded mind to go elsewhere
swollen secrets shaken
trying to convey a message
but he's too busy shoving things in it
fist...fingers...face...force
pain, force, pain, force
back forth, back forth,
I don't think i can feel anything anymore
I'm the filter for assault
i filter the chorus courageously
sound tracking my humiliation
"No one, no one, no one
Can get in the way of what I felt"
I hate you Alicia Keys!
I hate that song
punctured
never knew i could bleed that way
I thought RED meant STOP!
breaking laws, broken hymen
just wanted to be a princess for the night
lipstick smeared, twisted dress,
stained panties
5 more minutes turned midnight
Guess i was Cinderella
his fingers laced around my throat
in a teal ribbon
a poster child for
awareness
gripping his penis-he grunts
its nice to know someone enjoyed it
marking my nipples...thighs...stomach
i don't want to be touched
a defected battery-hazardous waste
no, i am not beautiful
i am ashamed-a queen
princesses made queens overnight
with facials, lipstick and little boys
who think rape and pleasure is all synonymous
our right of passage
stop-stOp-STOp
screaming to get out
he relieves himself on my skin, coating the scars
as if his DNA, mixing in my blood
was gonna make him royal as well
and i almost pitied him
because no matter how many princesses he made into queens
he would remain the joker
who puts punch lines into pussies
hoping to find something humorous in his failure
Taking me home...
he asked for his crown back
denounced me of my throne
he made me his queen
because of my charm, feminine ways and beauty
so i aspire to be a grotesque princess
may no man want to crown me worthy
@ approx. 10:48pm
I became the prom queen
ceremonial induction song
Alicia Keys-"No One"-blasted
being honored
for charm, feminine ways, beauty
front seats-doors locked
spotlight on
he wanted to crown me
reluctant, he told me "5 minutes"
told him "NO"
black dress, blue slit, his car
pressing pain into pussy
patiently waiting for nothing
forced lubrication
making him easier to swallow than what he made me digest
I HATE DRESSES!
"Easy access," he says
"you'll enjoy it...eventually"
was happy just being a princess
Cinderella had til' midnight
eight minutes had gone by
watery eyes
he didn't care
as long as one of my holes were wet
i was not his first
finger fucking forcing my faded mind to go elsewhere
swollen secrets shaken
trying to convey a message
but he's too busy shoving things in it
fist...fingers...face...force
pain, force, pain, force
back forth, back forth,
I don't think i can feel anything anymore
I'm the filter for assault
i filter the chorus courageously
sound tracking my humiliation
"No one, no one, no one
Can get in the way of what I felt"
I hate you Alicia Keys!
I hate that song
punctured
never knew i could bleed that way
I thought RED meant STOP!
breaking laws, broken hymen
just wanted to be a princess for the night
lipstick smeared, twisted dress,
stained panties
5 more minutes turned midnight
Guess i was Cinderella
his fingers laced around my throat
in a teal ribbon
a poster child for
awareness
gripping his penis-he grunts
its nice to know someone enjoyed it
marking my nipples...thighs...stomach
i don't want to be touched
a defected battery-hazardous waste
no, i am not beautiful
i am ashamed-a queen
princesses made queens overnight
with facials, lipstick and little boys
who think rape and pleasure is all synonymous
our right of passage
stop-stOp-STOp
screaming to get out
he relieves himself on my skin, coating the scars
as if his DNA, mixing in my blood
was gonna make him royal as well
and i almost pitied him
because no matter how many princesses he made into queens
he would remain the joker
who puts punch lines into pussies
hoping to find something humorous in his failure
Taking me home...
he asked for his crown back
denounced me of my throne
he made me his queen
because of my charm, feminine ways and beauty
so i aspire to be a grotesque princess
may no man want to crown me worthy
Jingle Bells
Dear Son,
Jacob Jambalaya-Jerusalem-Jungle-Gym McCall;
remember that toy car you wanted, that squirt gun...daddy and i getting back together...
well that ain't gon happen..sit yo black ass down...!!!
Now!!! I got something to tell you...
Oh saint nick is a poser
a composition of our layered culture
with outdated recipes that they morphed into a folklore melting pot
Some anorexic weirdo was watching kids, late @ night, trying to stay "anonymous" and got caught
the world didn't want to admit he was a pedophile and needed to be locked up
so they gave him a story line
30,000 cookies later
he's a fat old pasty bastard
who didn't really want touch the kids
he just wanted to see what they were doing.
i say sex offender-u say santa
THIS MAN IS A PSYCHO
a BIG RED & WHITE TERRORIST!!!
jumping from town to town like he's club hopping
The North Pole is as real as the brain cells in George Bush's head
can't be filing taxes if ur address don't exist
a mythical beast breaking and entering
no 24hr notice, no warrant, it was not consentual
--I'm pressing charges.
forcing his way, molesting my chimney walls
eating my cookies, drinking my milk
sounds like bad foreplay to me
Santa, u were not that subtle
frustrated you leave me with presents i didn't ask for
if chlamydia had a receipt, i would return it...immediately
You don't call, so i write
poppin up unannounced
maybe he travels that much because he's homeless
i mean he's never home, or maybe then he'd reply to my letters
since he knows everything i'm doing
i think it's only right that we get to know him better
Dear Santa...
Hey, who are you?
last night you were actin pretty bold
I asked you a question and in response
you give me coal
filling up my stockings to tell me what I'm worth
then degrading me into nothing but seasonal peppermint candies that you like to taste
and then leave me...for another year...to only come by when I'm sleeping...What's that about?!!!
I'm not dead...I'm sleep, if your into necrophilia i know a gravesite you can visit, however it might not be open.
I'm always trying to be convenient for you, relocate @ a moment's notice
that's what i get for associating myself with a man who's environmentally racist he's hopeless
only going to homes with chimneys
u kno the hood ain't got no damn chimneys
and leavin us with the scraps that fall off ur back when u fly over our town
and u wonder why we are always addicted to crack
when u toss us a hand-me-down of black rocks
to let us know it belongs to us
while planting it's secret chemicals into our Christmas trees to see how high we need to get
til we stop noticing that you -Santa
the "great Samaritan" is too good to give us anything that will bring us up
you overweight sweatshop having S.O.B.
looking like an undercooked red velvet cheesecake cup cake
oh....don't think we don't know how you been treatin them animals
Take Rudolph to the hospital with that DAMN tumor on his nose!!!
don't make no damn sense...
p.s. (I'm calling PETA...)
MERRY Christmas!!!!!
Jacob Jambalaya-Jerusalem-Jungle-Gym McCall;
remember that toy car you wanted, that squirt gun...daddy and i getting back together...
well that ain't gon happen..sit yo black ass down...!!!
Now!!! I got something to tell you...
Oh saint nick is a poser
a composition of our layered culture
with outdated recipes that they morphed into a folklore melting pot
Some anorexic weirdo was watching kids, late @ night, trying to stay "anonymous" and got caught
the world didn't want to admit he was a pedophile and needed to be locked up
so they gave him a story line
30,000 cookies later
he's a fat old pasty bastard
who didn't really want touch the kids
he just wanted to see what they were doing.
i say sex offender-u say santa
THIS MAN IS A PSYCHO
a BIG RED & WHITE TERRORIST!!!
jumping from town to town like he's club hopping
The North Pole is as real as the brain cells in George Bush's head
can't be filing taxes if ur address don't exist
a mythical beast breaking and entering
no 24hr notice, no warrant, it was not consentual
--I'm pressing charges.
forcing his way, molesting my chimney walls
eating my cookies, drinking my milk
sounds like bad foreplay to me
Santa, u were not that subtle
frustrated you leave me with presents i didn't ask for
if chlamydia had a receipt, i would return it...immediately
You don't call, so i write
poppin up unannounced
maybe he travels that much because he's homeless
i mean he's never home, or maybe then he'd reply to my letters
since he knows everything i'm doing
i think it's only right that we get to know him better
Dear Santa...
Hey, who are you?
last night you were actin pretty bold
I asked you a question and in response
you give me coal
filling up my stockings to tell me what I'm worth
then degrading me into nothing but seasonal peppermint candies that you like to taste
and then leave me...for another year...to only come by when I'm sleeping...What's that about?!!!
I'm not dead...I'm sleep, if your into necrophilia i know a gravesite you can visit, however it might not be open.
I'm always trying to be convenient for you, relocate @ a moment's notice
that's what i get for associating myself with a man who's environmentally racist he's hopeless
only going to homes with chimneys
u kno the hood ain't got no damn chimneys
and leavin us with the scraps that fall off ur back when u fly over our town
and u wonder why we are always addicted to crack
when u toss us a hand-me-down of black rocks
to let us know it belongs to us
while planting it's secret chemicals into our Christmas trees to see how high we need to get
til we stop noticing that you -Santa
the "great Samaritan" is too good to give us anything that will bring us up
you overweight sweatshop having S.O.B.
looking like an undercooked red velvet cheesecake cup cake
oh....don't think we don't know how you been treatin them animals
Take Rudolph to the hospital with that DAMN tumor on his nose!!!
don't make no damn sense...
p.s. (I'm calling PETA...)
MERRY Christmas!!!!!
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