Category Archives: Body Parts

Isn’t it Obvious?


Isn’t it Obvious?

Isn’t it obvious she dyes her hair?
A color like that is really so rare
that all of the passersby simply must stare.
And look at that bust line and that derriere!

Her skin like a peach, her curves like a pear––
Not an inch of flab on her and no wear-and-tear.
It can’t all be natural. Wouldn’t be fair.
She looks lovely in clothes and she looks better bare.

She looks great as she is, no need for repair.
The contrast is more than a woman can bear.
Though to others I maintain I really don’t care,
each time I see her it’s like a nightmare.

I look in the mirror and just can’t compare.
No facial hair has she. No need for Nair.
Her face never wrinkles, not here and not there.
Her makeup? No smudges. Her nails never tear.

Her clothes never look a tad worse for the wear.
Bags under her eyes? There have never been. Ne’er!
She looks perfect in public. The same in her lair.
And her consort’s the same. They’re the ultimate pair.

Except, isn’t it obvious, she dyes her hair????

It must be obvious by now that the daily prompt was the word “obvious.”

Belly Talk

Version 2

(Abdominal areas  in shadow appear much larger than they actually are. Really!)

Belly Talk

Stomach, darling, first of all I’d like to tell you how indispensable you are.  Literally, you are irreplaceable in my life.  Aside from digesting my food, you separate my waist from my chest and keep my belts from straying.  You warn me about absolutely revolting subjects as well as food and are handy for nudging ahead in tight crowds.

That said, I need to bring up one large touchy matter.  For all the good you do in this world, do you need to be quite so large?  Lately, for instance, I’ve watched you extending your territory–venturing out into one plump donut extending around my back.  This makes looking at my rear view in the mirror extremely distressing.  “I never look at myself in back,” one friend told me years ago, but darling, that had been evident for years–testified to by the tight snarl of hair in the middle of her head.

But I digress.  You’re  awfully quiet.  I’m a bit worried that I might have offended.  But, the topic of magnitude of sound being brought up, I’ll continue.  Were you aware that you have taken to communicating with me at inopportune times?  A small growl after midnight to remind me of today’s brownies hiding in their microwave storage space safe from ants and marauding family members and friends?  That’s fine…and probably the real reason you were given a voice in the first place. But that long low rumble increasing in volume in the middle of the significant pause in the dialogue of the movie playing in a hushed movie theater?  Totally unacceptable. Other times your voice is uncalled for?  At the dentist’s office and in the throes of a long passionate kiss.  In teachers’ conferences and at ladies bridge afternoons.  No. No. No.  You are not invited in this capacity.  Yes, digest the margarita, the popcorn or the rich dessert.  Comment upon it? No.

That’s it, dear stomach.  I appreciate you. I know you are vital to my health and happiness.  You provide me with countless pleasures–those pleasures increasing with the years.  But, sweet middle of mine, if you could see your way clear to not increasing at a rate commensurate with my pleasures, I would appreciate it very much.  Oh.  Talking again, I see.  And probably not listening.  Oh well.  I hear your message loud and clear.  A pint of triple chocolate extra fudge gelato in the freezer?  Well, honey, this time you are speaking my language.  No one is around.  And it is totally acceptable!

The Prompt: Shape up or Ship out–Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.

Flopped Selfie


Where did they go?  I think they headed south!

This poem was written during a Skype conversation with my longtime friend Marti, as I tried to describe my earlier post about my (ahem) breasts!  I started penning it and then just had to continue.  If you haven’t already, you should read the poem in the below URL first, then come back to this one!

Flopped Selfie

I did a selfie of my boobs—clad most decently.
The problem is I’m 68 and did it recently!

I only had two-dozen views—not many. Even worse,
only eleven “liked” them! Perhaps I should rehearse

the proper angle I should use, and maybe use a filter.
What’s more, I have just noticed that my right boob is off-kilter.

I’ve not the right equipment to star as fashion’s slut,
for my boobs will never measure up to Kim Kardashian’s butt!


Keeping Abreast

The Prompt: You’ve been given the power to change one rule of nature.  What would it be?

This is one of those prompts that cries out not to be taken seriously, mainly because every time we’ve tried to interfere with nature, things have turned out badly. With that in mind, I will resort to farce and hyperbole!

DSC07209 (1)

Keeping Abreast

If I were made the ruler of
this universe I rue and love,
the one thing I would not let “be”
is the force of gravity
in respect to just one issue.
Namely––my mammary tissue!

For, though you may feel dubious,
each year, I grow more boobious!
I do not like them hanging there
where once they used to thrust the air.
Where once each strained against its cup,
It seems like now  they’ve given up.

Listless and flat, downward they droop.
Sad Sack replaces Betty Boop.
They have no personality.
They’ve lost elasticality!
The result is truly tragic,
so this is why I need some magic.

Please, gods of nature, give a cure.
There must be some way to inure
my breasts from force of gravity.
Now that I rule, hear my plea!
Tell gravity that it is best
to loose its hold upon each breast

so they are perky once again,
thrusting out below my chin
instead of hanging in two vees
somewhere down around my knees!
Restore my pride. Dispel my frown.
I want them hanging out, not down!

Go here: to read a poem that is an answer to the poem above–as well as the response below! (I promise, however, to end this subject here and now. No more!)