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Fair Warning :)

9/25/2014

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Fair Warning

Step back,
Or my PMS may shank you.
It has a mind of its own today.
Look,
I’ve done my best to
keep that bitch locked up…
But she snuck out.
She disemboweled the conscious guard
and is now running free.
She could be barefoot,
possibly with her ass
hanging in the breeze…I dunno.
But I do know
she may be armed and dangerous…
maybe even delirious
from her emotional ride
full of hormones, middle aged crisis
And intolerance for bullshit.
Step back,
or my PMS might shank you.
She doesn’t need a reason,
Person of interest.
It is just her season
of jacked-up unrest.
I’d just keep my distance.

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Many Years Later

9/23/2014

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Many Years Later

My existence was not my choice.
Yellow is not a color that suits me.
But it fits you tight like a perfect sized shoe.
Roll over and wear the damned thing if it fits.

Or not…the choice is yours.

To think I used to adore you
Heavens me, I loved you all.
Everything changes in time.

Reversal of yesterday is not an option.
Sweet forgiveness of your bullshit
Arguably may not be worth it.

Right?

Elated
At
Smacking me in my face.

Shut up
He says.

Only
Lies
Escape their
Silence.

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Wasted Treasure Trash

9/21/2014

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There were rickety baskets on
the concrete curb
that used to carry
her teddy bears.
Stained and shredded cushions 
where her family used
to sit.
Shards of a wooden dresser
that used to hold
her Sunday dresses
and best rainbow
footed socks
thrown about the sidewalk
like rocks in the gutter.
It makes me shudder 
to think of what 
her parents did.
Other drivers may
think none of it
passing by...
But all those bits and pieces
were from a young girl's life.
And as she floats
from home to home,
on the curb is where
her innocence is piled...
waiting for trash day
to come.
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Harold

9/17/2014

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Harold

                I am by nature an inward man, he said silently into the disconnected phone. Most of Harold’s conversations were of the silent kind. None of the people around him would understand why he wanted to speak to his dead wife on the telephone. Harold much preferred to speak to her in person, but Heaven did not allow for that.

                He certainly took notice of the strange looks given by the nurses when they saw him in his room, with the receiver of an old rotary phone to his ear. He was sure that they thought he was crazy; full of old age dementia. But the truth was; that phone connected him to the other side. It was the only way to hear her sweet, beautiful, albeit dead voice on the other side. She was after all, the only one who ever understood his hermit-like tendencies.

                “It’s time for your medicine Harold” said the night shift nurse, waltzing into his room, adorning a tray on her arm. Harold held up a finger of pause, he wasn’t ready. But the nurse reached for his frail, wrinkled hand and placed two white pills in his palm. “Now take them, or I will call the Doctor” she said firmly.

                As Harold slowly placed the pills in his mouth, a tear rolled down his cheek. The pills always made her sweet voice fade from the phone. He swallowed, and he cried inside as he listened to the line go quiet, and felt the loneliness creep in again. He inwardly longed for the other side.


** Harold was the second place winner in the River Cities Reader Short Fiction Contest - I'm With the Banned!
**Side Note - the line: "I am by nature an inward man, he said silently into the disconnected phone" is attributed to The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie and not my own original work.
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Blind Date Belcher

9/16/2014

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Blind Date Belcher

                Not being a fan of the “blind date” scenario, I was apprehensive to go out with some random guy. But, I was new in town and I really needed to meet people and gather a few friends. I thought, “What the hell?” and decided an AC/DC concert sounded fun, so I cautiously agreed to have WhateverHisNameWas meet me at my brother’s house.

                I was aghast and beside myself when WhateverHisNameWas showed up in bleached out, ripped jeans, adorning a tattered Ratt T-shirt from 1983. It was 2001 and he was 44 years old. I took one look at his rusty-white jalopy pedophile van, and decided I would drive us.

                After a few beers, we settled into our tightly packed seats. My “date” was slamming down beers and kept leaning in to talk. The first time he slipped a belch up in my face, I politely excused it as a mishap. The next one just pissed me off. At that point, Mr. Blind Date was obviously feeling frisky, as his hands kept grabbing at me. The beers were giving him confidence, and I thought to myself: “Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to the same thing”.

                I excused myself to the restroom and left that jerk sitting there while I drove home. My brother and I pushed his rusty Shaggin Wagon down the block, and hid my car in the garage. I never saw that dude again. I didn’t need friends that bad.


**Side-note- the line
“Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to the same thing” is originally from Lady Chatterley’s Lover, by D.H. Lawrence and not my original work. However, the rest of this short fiction story is my creation...slightly based on personal experience.
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The Mutiny of Lard Ass

9/15/2014

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The Mutiny of Lard Ass

 

                I despise people who can’t control themselves. This is the exact reason why I have a shovel, a handsaw and a big duffel bag. That bastard had no idea what hit him. Maybe I should have let him see the swing of my shovel, but I didn’t need any problems. His lard ass was enough of a problem.

                He couldn’t control his sick and twisted urges. He liked to sit outside and flash the kids. The local police never did anything but talk to him. I was tired of listening to my little sister talk about how Lard Ass was inviting the neighbor kids over for “Brownies and Movies”. So I decided to control my own urges in a neat and orderly fashion.

                I may be small, but I can dismember with the best of them. Big men are easier to carry in pieces. This old Lard Ass took me three trips, but I was done with him by two in the morning. He was a moaner, and I had to shove three socks in his fat mouth to quiet him, but I got the job done.

                This whole episode was one of my favorite times when my young, short, fun sized nature played to my advantage. Now, Lard Ass is feeding the gardens on the farm in the form of hog shit, and I am finishing my book report for Lit class. Peace out, pervert!

**I would just like to clarify that the first line of this piece is not my original work. The Mutiny of Lard Ass was originally submitted into the River City Reader's short fiction contest"I'm With the Banned" so therefore, the first line is from
In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote.



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The Audition

9/14/2014

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The Audition

All she needed

was for someone to

take a chance on her.

That was it.

Just one chance.

She was dressed to the nines.

Sparkling like moonbeams

reflecting on the water.

She sang her best,
                in her vivacious, melodic way.
You could almost hear their socks fall off.
They didn’t expect those pipes.

But they had already made their choice,
snugged into their political pocket
before she ever
set her nerves aside.
Oh, but she ROCKED IT
and gave them everything
she was made of.

All she needed was a chance,
not a bunch of wasted breath.

Just one person
with balls big enough
to choose the kid based on merit,
and not on who knows
whose parent.

She was dressed to the nines,
                Sparkling like moonbeams
                full of hope and vigor.
She sang her heart out,
and left it bleeding
and beating at their feet…

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The Oprah Magazine Monologues - A series of "taken" poetry. Episode # 4 - Oh Sugar!

9/13/2014

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Oh Sugar!

Upgrade Your Life!

Making Peace

       with a new husband’s old wife,

Oh Sugar!

Stop Settling for Less,

Let It Go!

Simple ways to cut
the other woman
for managing your stress.

    We’re showing you
how to improve everything:

Your relationship
Your child
Body Language
Cravings

Here we Go!

We’re going to throw
parties together.

                Instructions for living a life:

Defy Gravity.
See it to believe it.

Never be ashamed of a scar.
May we help you…
Be Who You Are?

Your best begins here.
Upgrade Your Life!
Stop settling for less.
Oh, sugar: for managing your stress.

*Taken from “The Oprah Magazine” – July 2014 Issue
-Molly
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The Oprah Magazine Monologues - A series of "taken" poetry. Episode #3 - Let's Talk

9/12/2014

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Let’s Talk

Let’s talk about
what’s really healthy.
Pop a pill or see a Doc?
A pill is the perfect meal for one.
Smart Advice.
Surprising news.
Grow it
Blow it
Dr. Oz for the seriously frazzled.
Customized
correcting serum for the
next generation of women.
Smart advice.
Surprising news.
Let’s talk about the
guilt free snack.
Boost the bounce
behind the scenes.
Let’s eat!
A smarter snack
for a younger looking you.
Let’s talk about what’s really healthy.

*Taken from “The Oprah Magazine” September 2013 Issue
-Molly
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The Oprah Magazine Monologues - A series of "taken" poetry. Episode #2 - Lies Blur the Flaws

9/10/2014

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Lies Blur the Flaws

Questions every woman
should ask herself today:
Want to get gorgeous?
Is it ok to lie?
Marry for love?
Marry for money?
The answers guarantee
A little TMI.
Are you losing your vibrancy?
What is the best kept secret?
Simply flawless.
All day confidence.
Walk the walk
and blur the flaws.
Use daily moisturizer.
Sleep your way to baby smooth skin.
Puttin’ on the Spritz: Mineral enriched
renewal cream.
Skin plumping gel cream.
Great buys!
No dyes!
Bright ideas.
Great things come to those
who wait.
Exfoliate.
Dare to not judge.
What is the best kept secret?
A little right lie.

*Taken from “The Oprah Magazine” April 2014 Issue
-Molly

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The Oprah Magazine Monologues - A series of "taken" poetry. Episode #1 - Viewpoint is All in the Angle 

9/9/2014

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Viewpoint is All in the Angle

The Upside of Self-Deception:
How to love the skin you’re in!
The World’s Greatest Swimsuit
makes me look fat.

Fabulous.

The Upside of Self-Deception:
A head-to-toe celebration!

Our Bodies,
Our Souls,
Eight styles
That flatter your physique.
Passion, Bliss,
Less-Then-Perfect-Parts.

The Upside of Self-Deception:
There’s so much more to life.

Fault lines;
Blaming others for your
shortcomings.

Awareness and Accountability.
Muddy Footprints on the carpet.
Conventional Wisdom.
Self-delusion.
Feeling good.

                Menopause Cream

Black beans

                Go Lean

Power Trips

                Luscious Lips

Fingertips

                and toes

wonderful eyebrows

                feet         to            EXPLORE              the          WHOLE

                                                world.

The Upside to Self-Deception:
Shaping Up
The Naked Truth
About your form,
And how you feel

                                In it.

The Upside to Self-Deception:

                REDEFINE IT.

*Taken from “The Oprah Magazine” May 2014 Issue
-Molly

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Rita James

9/3/2014

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Rita James

Rita James called him
out for coffee.
She just couldn’t handle
her observations anymore.
She had one foot out the
door of her marriage anyway.
Her brain wanted to hate the guy,
or at least dislike
him a little bit.
But she didn’t.
Rita James wanted to be his “In Crowd”.
For crying out loud, she just
had to try,
she had to test those tasty waters.
So delectable on her tongue.
Rita James slid into her
Sunday sweater and skirt,
with the slit up one side.
Black tights itching to try
some new coffee.
Rita James was awakening.
Maybe it was the caffeine,
but she thought it was a sinful
new world
quaking between her thighs.
Rita James finally felt alive
as she left her wedding ring
behind….on her way for coffee.

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Is It a Thor's World?

9/2/2014

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Standing on top of your mountain

feet planted firmly so…

Raising your hammer high-

the tool that your body is a pedestal for…

You let out a battle cry YAWP.
Imitating Thor.
Proclaiming
the Hammer to be more
than my
girly bits.

Bigger.

Better.

The Hammer makes all decisions.
The Hammer makes everything so.
It is my existence.
I should always fall below
the Hammer.
I should take my place in its shadow.

My girly Bits are no match
for the strength of your wieldy tool.
Its stealth and steadfast
desire to screw me.

To scare me.
To strike me into submission
until my spirit slips away.
But my girly bits are smart.
They are not afraid to face
the swing of your weapon.
I know that it OWNS you.

You will never be
Free
from your almighty
Golden Hammer.

The momentum of your
striking movements
will topple you down
the side of your egotistical mountain
until you are nothing
but scraped up little pedestal bits
that will still belong to your
fucking broken hammer.

So go ahead and take that stammer
atop your precious mountain
and cast that Hammer’s shadow.

My girly bits and I
will be steadfastly perched below
waiting to pounce
when your Hammer fails you.

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    Author

    Molly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw.

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