When the Times are Tough, You Write About It

I decided to write a poem in my physical journal today and realized that I haven’t written in it since April 2012.  While flipping through the pages, I found this interesting piece that I wrote back in October 2010.  It was written in a time when things were very stressful and hectic at work, when many people were asking for my assistance.  I have to say, sometimes I crack myself up.  I think Analogy #2 is my favorite one.

An analogy of my sanity, or lack thereof…

Analogy 1:

It’s like being able to see ghosts and other supernatural things, while other people can’t.  No one understands you and you’re the only one that can vanquish the evil.  While you’re at it, all these little ghosts cry to you “help me, help me, help me,” – one after another, day after day, night after night.  They haunt you in your dreams, until you scream in fright.  You cower in the corner and scream “STOP!” then whimper, “please, leave me alone.”

Analogy 2:

It’s like being a successful therapist, really.  Everybody comes to you with their problems. You solve their issues, tell them how to remedy the pain, tell them to wait a few days and it’ll be fixed.  Then you go back and follow up on all of them.  It’s OK at first, even satisfying to be able to help people, but then your patients multiply.  Before you know it, you have a colony of patients pounding at your door.  They’re pounding and pounding, “I have a problem, I have a problem…” they say.  Louder and louder, until your brain can’t take it and explodes into mush and you scream, “I have problems too!”  The therapist, obviously needs, a therapist.

Analogy 3:

Remember playing “Smack the Alligator” at Chuck E. Cheese’s or Dave & Buster’s?  Basically, there’s like 6 alligators that pop out of the hole, one after another, and you have to smack them with a hammer before they disappear.  The more of them you smack, the higher your score and the more tickets you get.  Well, it’s like that.  At first you’re doing really well, getting the mojo down, but then you notice more and more alligators pop up.  You frantically scramble to hit all of them, but then realize that the moment you hit one, two more appear, the moment you hit two, four more appear.  Your head is spinning.  You’re twirling around and getting completely dizzy.  The machine is burning up, about to explode, buzzing and buzzing, and time is running out.  Your score is in the negative, so finally you throw up your hammers and say “I give up.”

Funny that after 3 months of not writing, this is what I’m inspired to write about 🙂  I’m so glad that I’m taking vacation in two days, or I think I might have a mental breakdown, lol.

Forever 21

I went shopping at Forever 21 today and snatched a great deal on an outerwear/bomber jacket that was originally priced at $44.80, reduced to $30.99, with an additional 40% off, resulting in a final price of $20.22 including tax.  It was awesome and I loved it!  My boyfriend, on the other hand, decided to wait outside the store while I did my shopping.  After all, shopping for clothes isn’t exactly fun for men, as I thought back of a poem I wrote many years ago.  Maybe about a decade ago, I went shopping at Forever 21 and noticed a group of men hanging out by the window, waiting for their girlfriends.  It inspired me to write this comedic poem.  It still cracks me up to this day =)


A row of men
by the windowsill
tweedle dee, tweedle dum
in front of racks and racks
of spaghetti-straps,
low-rise jeans
and cute little tops.

Fanning himself,
he mutters,
“It’s so hot.”

Inside she squeals,
“It’s so hot,”
placing a red top
against her chest
over her black
twirling around
and around,
staring at
her reflection,

her hair up,
her hair down,
it around.

They giggle,
her group of friends,
some in embarrassment,
some in envy,
some in private disgust.

Repeated over and over,
phrases and scenarios
throughout the store.
“It’s so cute.”
“It’s too tight.”
“That’s a deal.”
“Oh, my God!”
“They don’t have my size.”
“Hell, no!”

From day to day,
time to time,
and gossip.

A single girl
grabs a top.
“I got a boyfriend”
it says,
as she blushes
in thought.

“You do not!”
shouts her friend,
“I got a boyfriend,
and he’s hot,”
holding a black top
with just those words.

At the other rack,
a baby blue baby doll
reads, “My boyfriend’s out of town”
as a girl contemplates
naughty thoughts.
Tick tock, tick tock,

Alas she opted
for an army green top
that simply read
“I love my boyfriend.”
Tick tock, tick tock.

A row of men
sitting on the ledge
by the windowsill,
tweedle dee, tweedle dum.

He looks at him.
He looks at him.
He looks at the clock.
He sends a text.
Tick tock, tick tock.

Tweedle dee, tweedle dum.
He looks at him,
He looks at him,
“When is she done!?”
The days of


Forever 21 Store