Mouse Droppings

Poems, Inspirations, Musings, and Other Shit

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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Monday, November 26, 2012

Dive Lounge Diva

They call her the dive lounge diva
Her bright red lipstick is a bit garish
It bleeds into the fine lines around her mouth where she sucks
in the cigarette smoke
Her brassy blonde hair is a bit unnatural
Some would call her tight, faded dress
tacky
but she feels glamorous
especially after her third drink

She holds court with her admirers:
cabbies waiting for a fare
alchoholics
unemployed
the ranks of losers and misfits 
who feel more at home in dives
than at home (if they have a home, that is)

The dive lounge diva used to be famous
She used to sing sold out shows
Sign autographs
Date dashing gentlemen 
who wore carnations in their lapels
Hang about with the high lifes
the dilettantes
She had great legs

The dive lounge diva
watches a shell-shocked vet drop
a coin into the jukebox
She bets she could still belt out a tune
if anyone ever asked.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 145

Red Chair
Posted by Lolamouse at 3:59 PM 13 comments:
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Labels: divas, dive lounges, getting old sucks, Mag145, The Mag

Web of Dreams

Doll by Emma Whitlock



Each night
I part the curtain that separates
Reality from dream
Stepping through I
Become
Symbol archetype meaning metaphor
I lose concreteness
Skin bone blood  
Ephemeral things
Mutable
Climbing through windows of myth
Drifting on currents of time
I meet myself
In sweet moments of lucidity
Then become lost in a labyrinth
Of consciousness
A Minotaur trapped
In my own mind's maze
Struggling to break free
Then
Daylight
Opening my eyes still sticky from sleep
I find a silken thread
Clinging to an eyelash.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge
Posted by Lolamouse at 2:42 PM 6 comments:
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Labels: dolls, dreams, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, inspired by Emma, Sunday Mini Challenge

Saturday, November 24, 2012

I Tried



image source

I tried
to dress your wounds
with a piece of worn burlap
but the weave was rough
against your raw hurt
and the blood seeped through 

I tried
to fill your belly
from an empty bowl
but all I could offer
were apologies
so you left hungry

I tried
to calm your mind
with platitudes
but I could stop the storm from raging
with bromides
I had to stand in the downpour
to understand its fury

I tried
to warm you
with a burlap blanket 
but the fibers
let in the cold

I tried
to embrace you
but my arms have been bound
to my sides
so all I can give you
are wishes and prayers

But I tried
I really tried.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, A Word With Laurie, Burlap

Posted by Lolamouse at 9:28 PM 7 comments:
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Labels: A Word With Laurie, helplessly hoping, hospice cutbacks suck, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Two of Seven

Moderation packs his bags
along with the husband and kid
I am left here with Gluttony
She has been waiting
biding her time
She knows all too well
I will not resist her beckoning
We eye each other shyly at first
like long separated lovers
intimate, yet strangers
Then it begins as it always does
Urgent yearning
Ravenous reaching
Hungry, ferocious, gape mouthed grasping
Desirous devouring
Instinctual, insatiable appetite
I am voracious
I want more
more
MORE!
Finally it ends as it always does
Feeling sticky dirty
sick
with nothing left.
source

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Out of Standard with Izy, The Guilty Pleasure

Posted by Lolamouse at 9:15 PM 12 comments:
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Labels: gluttony, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, one of my favorite sins, Out of Standard with Izy

Monday, November 19, 2012

She Gets By



photo by rosie hardy

She’s such a freak
Her head is a mess
But she’s lookin’ fine
In that tight, black dress
The men, they don’t care
That her eyes are dead
‘Cause she comes alive
When she’s in their beds

The girl, she gets by
She’s sad; she don’t know why
Maybe tomorrow, she’ll try a little harder
But for now she’ll let it lie

The guys, they all think
They’re good for her
‘Cause she gives them a smile
A kiss and a purr
But just underneath
Her painted on pink
Are fangs that will bite
And sharp claws that sink
Into their flesh
To bleed til it’s clean
But she really don’t mean
To be so mean

The girl, she gets by
She’s scared; she don’t know why
Maybe tomorrow, she’ll try a little harder
But tonight, she’ll just stay high.


submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Posted by Lolamouse at 8:05 AM 23 comments:
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Labels: gettin' by, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Open Link Monday, relationships are hell

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Get Off




image courtesy of mobius faith

Feel the rush through your veins
Baby, you live to score
You’ve gotten your hit
Now you love me much more
You’re sweeter than Karo
When you swear that you’ll quit
But you get off on guilt
That’s some really sick shit

My apartment is filled
With your gifts of remorse
You say it’s because of
Your parents’ divorce
Your puppy dog eyes
They beg me to stay
But you are an addict
And we end up this way

You get off on guilt
You get high from regret
You keep messin’ up
And it’s not over yet
I won’t sell my soul
On your street any more
Confess your transgressions
To a priest or some whore

You get off on guilt
Such a sin devotee
I’m done dealin’ forgiveness
Your fixes for free
You get off on guilt
Stay away from my door
‘Cause you’re not gonna use me
To get yourself off any more.


Submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Music WithMarian, Soon Enough (Aimee Mann)
and dVerse Poets Pub, dVerse Poetics, Photography by Terry S. Amstutz
Posted by Lolamouse at 3:21 PM 8 comments:
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Labels: gettin' off on guilt, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Music With Marian, relationships are hell, this is not about you
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      • Dive Lounge Diva
      • Web of Dreams
      • I Tried
      • Two of Seven
      • She Gets By
      • Get Off
      • The Family Circus
      • The Fringe of Grey
      • Big Boys Don't Cry
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Lolamouse
Poetry and snark blogger who also has a creative side (who knew?)
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