Friday, April 13, 2012

Winter's Lair - A poem inspired by cadbury's creme eggs

It was the wintertime of her despair.
No candy-plopping, bunny-hopping would ever hope or dare,
To venture bravely out from cold, and into devil’s lair.
But t’ween two evils she must choose, the frigid wood or sleeping bear.

As the light of sun doth wane, so does vine shrink and dry.
The axis tilts, away from warmth, into the black and empty sky.
In depth of night, when only moon and stars lend rays toward seeker’s eye,
Only then, did frightful hare, attempt what ne’er else she would try.

The saying goes, “necessity, so oft precedes invention.”
Thus without light, nor warmth, did mother earth halt life in cold suspension.
And without food to feed her bod, did desperate rabbit turn attention,
To seeking where, only fools dare. “Be damned!” She chastised apprehension.

Into the cave, our bunny hopped, the dark was blacker than the night.
And in the depths, was sleeping bear, dampened maws and claws of white.
With wriggling tail, she hopped near, to steal his warmth without invite.
And in a haze, delirium won, she nuzzled till he held her tight.

Her little bod, just fuzz and bones, managed to hatch quite a stir.
Then from the dark, two eyes espied, one shiv’ring, shudd’ring ball of fur.
From deepest sleep, ‘twas giant bear, awoken by this saboteur.
But shortly after, his mood turned, from rage to joy did he transfer.

A tasty treat! A tender bite! This rabbit white would surely quell,
His belly rumbling, grumbling, bungling, echoing through his winter’s cell.
With such delight, his paws did squeeze, till tiny meddling bunny, issued up a yell,
But just before her eyes popped out, one shiny ovum from her bottom fell.

What sort of rabbit could this be? He jumped at this abomination.
No proper rabbit lays an egg.  Must be some nuclear mutation.
Perhaps the devil sent her deep, into the lair as sweet temptation,
Knowing bear could ne’er withstand.  Poor dear was skin and bones from near starvation!

The bear, much smarter than the mean, was suspicious of such luck.
Had only the pest snuggling deep, into his fur been tiny duck,
Would plopping eggs be par for course, ‘stead of into conundrum stuck?
While contemplating questions deep, the mind of moral bear did run amok.

And in his ruminative state, he slumped and sunk against the shale
Whilst under purest snow angora, skin turned a whiter shade of pale.
And in her fear, she gave a scent, that beast could not bear to inhale,
He shredded rabbit limb to limb, and bloodied walls with ripped entrail.

The Moral:
We oft endeavor to reduce, to parts that which we can’t explain
In hopes that we will learn some truth, beyond what is already plain.
We bloody and dissect the beast, tearing it from limb to vein
Only to find, what was inside, did not differ from the mundane.

What made it rare, what was unique, was not some undiscovered part.
Was less the science of the beast, and more the intangible art
But the most important truth, is nature’s beast, however smart,
Will not deny a tender taste, though he most craves a wiser mind, akin to Locke, Kant, and Descartes.

Saturday, March 05, 2011


What is the folly of youth?

There comes a stage in a young person’s life where he becomes convinced that he knows and understands everything. Life appears in black and white as concepts like morality, right versus wrong, are very clear. It is easy to cast judgment upon others while oozing a sort of smug superiority. Some never venture beyond this surety (clinging to the warmth and comfort) to consider a broader perspective. Others start to loosen their grasp. When they do, humanity and all of its unifying energy may then filter in through their fingers.

More, give me more, give me more

Day one, impossibly condensed

A tiny ellipse, ripe with matter

The center of all, and all at the center

Creamy yolk of sweet egg, ready to birth

On day two, expansion to white
Milky, opaque, binding

Day three, a shell forms

Theobroma cacao lends meat

From deep jungles where pyramids connect ancient man to the stars

So does this tree bind us to the beginning of time

And the fourth day quivers and shakes and ejaculates into chaos

More, there is more, there is more

Zooming outward, visions blur

A chocolate mountain spews white and golden lava

Ancient crustaceans behead chickens with eggs in utero

Armadillos with little armored hearts wrung in the exquisite agony of love

Dark and light marble as stars trade places

Idols wrapped in colored foil accept consciousness as sacrifice

And zombies starve

As it was the light, not the flesh that sated their hunger

More, what is more, what is more

From the periphery through a wide-angle lens, perfect order dissolves

bluegreen bruises and browns

Lights extinguish and relinquish their pull

Arcs turn to tangents and earthly residents are catapulted abroad

Into the freedom of the vacuum, where crusts crack and expose nectarous centers

Sight is restored to those wanting more, just before…

No more, no more, no more

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Shakespearean sonnets: Creme egg style

It would seem that all I ever post about anymore is the delightful creme egg. One of these days Cadbury will send me that gift basket I've been dreaming about. Until then:

Sonnet #1 - "Dust"

In a world plagued with fear, malice and discontent,
Suffering may seem the dominant state,
As the condition in which a body’s life is spent.
Nothing more than a shell sealing its fate,
Nor fighting against loneliness as its mate,
Human carcasses bound in the illusion,
That this moment is naught but confusion.

The only escape from the shackles of time,
The only way out from what clouds our vision,
Is to see each experience in itself as divine,
To feel joy in the now must be one’s decision,
To see art in mundane, random chance, collision,
Each animal and plant living on the earth’s crust,
Comes from one source, the exact same dust.

As we all are connected to ev’ry grain of sand,
Ev’ry bird, ev’ry fish, and on ev’ry planet each swell,
And to this choc’late egg in the palm of my hand,
Its composition the same as my body’s smallest cell,
No telling ‘tween us at the atomic level,
A cosmos within its sweet choc’late case,
As vast as existence, unknown as deep space,

To souls on a world in that crème dulcet ellipse,
My mouth gaped as dark as a black hole,
Treach’rous as our blue planet’s deepest oceans’ abyss,
The end inevitable and quite out of their control,
The hand of time stopp’d to collect its ultimate toll,
At that moment the taste, the sheer joy stopped my breath,
Now became forever and cut into the dance of death.

My body contained the egg, which in turn contained a universe,
In each universe countless eggs hatched and eaten,
Everything the exact same dust, not a thing better or worse,
Each instant a choice to despair or to sweeten,
Perspective joins all as one, our demise therefore beaten,
This revelation is the circular nature of life explained,
Manifested as an egg in my mouth, enlightenment attained.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

The Republicans are rebranding - They're more out of touch than I realized.

Oh my goodness. Having come from corporate America, I am all too familiar with the term "rebranding." It's a term that is thrown around when a company decides to refresh its image, all in the hopes of tricking more consumers into buying something they clearly didn't need (or they would already be buying it, right?).

I have a background in marketing. I studied it at the undergraduate level and also earned my MBA. After this, I found myself disgusted with, well, myself...and what I was doing. I've since realized that marketing is a career that I can no longer bring myself to pursue.

That said - yes, I fall very far onto the left side of the political spectrum. I am proud to say I make my political decisions (and place my votes) on principles and duties in favor of emotions and selfishness. I try very hard to see through the political banter (yes, from both sides) to see the truth so that I can make what I consider to be the right decision.

This is why I am so disappointed that the republican party is rebranding itself. How appropriate that during a time where we are seeing an economic upheaval, the party that cherishes sameness is latching onto the very system that has failed us: corporate America. Who wants to bet they hired tons of private sector consultants to help with their rebranding? And to do what exactly? Instead of re-examining the ideals of the party in order to ensure that the party still represents America (and not just some elite group of fat-cats), they've just decided to re-vamp their image? If only the problem were simply the surface.

A party that no longer holds the trust of the voting public has bigger problems than its image. A party that has its voting base in the ignorant and closed-minded has bigger problems than branding. A party that bases its persuasion tactics on the same shameless tactics used to coerce people into killing one another - fear, threats, promises of fruits in the afterlife - rather than telling the voters the truth...that is a party with a problem....And this problem is one that rebranding can't solve.

Rebranding is a band-aid. The republican party should show not only the voters, but also itself the respect of actually fixing the root of its problems. It is out of touch. It does not represent all of America - only an elite set interested in pushing their judgements onto others instead of living and letting live.

Rather than rebranding - I suggest the republican party consider creating a product that people actually want to buy instead.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

The Talk - What is the big deal?

I'm just going to lay it all out here. I'm so tired of people acting like we can't be honest with our kids. I don't have children and I haven't given the talk personally (unless you count the knowledge I passed on when I was 7), but I think we're building sex up to be some big evil act when we can't even talk openly about it.

Here's my story:

I was 7 years old. I had a 1 year old little sister, and I was starting to put things together in my mind. Mom had her in her belly for a while, then she came out. What made the baby grow in the first place? How did it all happen? What if I had a baby someday?

With no big plan in mind, I went to my Dad (who happened to be nearest at the moment) and said, "Where did my sister come from?"

Without hesitation, he sat down and started talking. He started by telling me about the seed and the egg. I asked him how the seed got into mommy, "Does she eat it?"

He then explained about the penis going into the vagina. Being a little girl, I had no idea that the vagina could open up so big. I asked him, "Doesn't that hurt?" He said, "Actually, it feels really good."

Now, I had been masturbating (without knowing what it was) for years. I'm sure my parents had probably seen me at it (again, I had NO idea what I was doing - or that there might be something wrong with it). He said, "You know when you touch your vagina and it feels kind of good?" I replied in the affirmative. "It feels like that...but even better."

There was a little more logistical talk after that, but was about it. I felt totally satisfied with the answers I had received. I didn't feel bad about myself. I went on with life.

What is it that is in other parents' heads that makes this so hard for them? While I was watching Oprah today, the audience gasped at the idea of encouraging girls to masturbate. What the fuck? I've always been incredibly responsible about sex. I've never had an STD. I've never been pregnant. I don't have any regrets about my sexual history. Anything I've done with a boy, I've done because I wanted to. I am totally comfortable with my body and my sexuality. I have to wonder how many girls can honestly say all of that.

I just don't get what the big deal is. Why can't we admit to young people that sex feels good? Why on earth wouldn't we empower young girls to pleasure themselves? All I know is that I've been empowered since I was a VERY young girl (think pre-school) and I couldn't be happier about it!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

A Midwinter Night's Dream

Last night, a vision came to me
Of choc’late sweet confection’ry,
Of swirling colors, purple, red,
Golden yellow, splash’d through my head.

Through fields of green t’were rabbits hopping,
Candies from their bottoms plopping,
Clucking from their mouths did come,
To beats played on a bongo drum.

Though not a rabbit-hole in sight,
Nor any of the rabbits white,
Still, I felt compelled to follow,
Perhaps to treasure hid in hollow.

I tiptoed quietly so’s not to scare,
The timid, frightful little hare,
To a clearing in forest deep,
At bottom of an incline steep.

My mouth dropped open, what a sight,
Oh joy within my soul ignite!
Better than the fabled youth’s fountain,
I’d been lead to a chocolate mountain.

Inhibition nowhere found,
Into the clearing I did bound,
My naked body poised and ready,
The thought alone had got me heady.

My arms tossed back as if to fly,
I jumped and arched into the sky,
And as my flight began descent,
Into the mound, by body went.

At the pivotal point I gaped,
My mouth wide open, no drop escaped,
Of chocolate filled with heaven’s milk,
Flavour divine and texture silk.

I woke, the taste still on my tongue,
And joyful noise, issued from my lung,
From winter’s prison, finally sprung,
Eggs to delight both old and young.

Now get out there and eat those creme eggs! Happy Chocolate!

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Bad Porn

I suppose I'm probably years late on this observation, but I must point out that I am not an avid porn watcher. As a general rule, I've always found it kind of disturbing. Now, more than ever though, I'm concerned that the porn industry is taking things way too far, and moral and ethical lines have not only been crossed, but trampled and then shat upon.

I suppose I should start by pointing out that some people probably do watch porn for "wholesome" reasons. They just want something to jerk off to, or to spice up the old love life. Overall, I'm cool with that. I have started to notice a difference though between how men and women view porn.

Men are clearly the primary audience for traditional porn. Men want to watch a clean shaven (or waxed) woman with giant fake boobs getting nailed by a dude with a 12 inch penis. As far as I can tell, most women do not prefer this type of film. Women, generally will read a little Danielle Steele (or Laurel K. Hamilton and her vampire sluts), or at most, watch some soft core porn. The difference, as far as I can tell, is that in either case, the woman is not completely dominated or violently railed in these softer versions. These types of sexual media are also more along the lines of what a woman would like to see in her love life.

What I find disturbing is that men seem to want a woman to be completely submissive, non-opinionated, and apparently made of rubber in the sack. Even more disturbing is the huge amount of porn where men are not only violent towards their "lovers," they actually beat them, spit on them, and verbally abuse them throughout the act. There are countless videos on the internet with titles like, "I rape my 18 year old daughter's best friend in her sleep," or, "Old dude gets 16 year old drunk and she doesn't know what hit her." I'm disturbed by the fact that this porn exists (often in the amateur variety), but also by the fact that someone gets off on it.

Can someone please explain to me how this has happened? How is our society - supposedly enlightened - still producing this filth? I'm ashamed to live in a world where some females are still desperate enough to sell themselves on street corners. I'm saddened by the fact that some women will allow themselves to be beaten, humiliated and then filmed in the act. More so though, I am devastated that there are buyers for this crap. Who are these sick fucks?

And what happened to all of the knights in shining armor?