Tag Archives: life

Judge Not, Lest Ye…

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Ulanda Williams, a social worker in New York City, fell into a hole when the sidewalk beneath her collapsed last week. Ms. Williams was waiting for a bus and sought shelter under an awning when it began to rain when the ground gave way seconds later. Not falling straight through to the cellar below, she wound up wedged in the hole instead, it took special FDNY equipment to pull her out. She was taken to a hospital and was released the next day.  Ms. Williams was extremely fortunate that her injuries were limited to a broken arm, cuts, scrapes and bruises.  Apparently EMS and FDNY concurred that a smaller person may have died from the drop. It is Ulanda’s size that likely saved her life.

And that (her size), as they say, is the rub.

Granted, in each article I’ve read, the news sources have taken care to mention that upon inspection it was determined by the NYC Department of Buildings that defective steel doors and a loose staircase were partially responsible for the four- by-six-foot slab of concrete’s collapse. However, that part of the story is almost seems a side-note to the main article. Why?

Because in each of the sources that I’ve read, the story was not that a woman nearly fell to her possible death due to a poorly maintained structure. The immediate focus for each of them was that the woman in question was nearly six and a half feet tall and weighed 400 pounds, according to the New York Post. Yes, Ms. Williams is in one word fat. Journalisms presumed penchant for being unbiased (yeah I know), went out the freaking window once her size was known. Don’t believe me?

Here is the lead-in line for the Huffington Post article? “Looks like she got her big break.”

The New York Post’s opening salvo? “Size does matter!”

Oh, and my personal favorite, the first sentence from RoadRunner:  “Whoever says good things come in small packages hasn’t met Ulanda Williams. Williams, who is 32 years old and tips the scales at 400 pounds, claims she owes her life to her trailer-truck physique.”

Oh, look they so funny! So why the hell am I not laughing?

Why is it when something happens to a person of size in the news it becomes all about the fat?

Even in their headlines, headers and web links, the view is already skewed to immediately blame the victim.

*Woman who fell through sidewalk says her ‘girth’ saved her

*http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/manhattan/too_big_to_fall_Fz8VbWLT2tMkq9gvShHF0J

*Ulanda Williams, 400-lb Woman, Falls Through Sidewalk In New York City

I am not saying that her weight did not contribute to the incident.  My complaint is how the media specifically and the public at large focused mainly on her weight as the culprit. Fellow blogger and someone I’m lucky to call friend, TheNatural54 rightly notes that if this were two men of average size who had fallen, or even a tackle for the Jets or Giants football team (because we know tackles are rarely small guys), the focus would be more on the badly maintained property and not their weight.

I generally do not read the comments on such stories unless I just want to be pissed off and appalled at a bunch of strangers who are never worth the energy spent in the ensuing foul mood that will then color my day.  Unfortunately, because this story came to my attention from various fronts, I wound up reading quite a few comments and yes, I was pissed. From their view it seems the concrete collapsing would never have happened to someone of a smaller size and that just is not accurate. But for the sake of devil’s advocacy let’s just say it really was all about the poundage.  What is it about being over a very subjective number that a person is no longer considered worthy of basic decency and respect anyway?  The mocking bullshit tweeted by Rupert Murdock before issuing a not even half-assed retraction (because it damn sure was not an apology), notwithstanding – the general public is absolutely vicious and loves using the mask of the internet to spew its fat hating vitriol, especially fat women.

If it had been a smaller woman who fell there would be much sympathy for her and anger against the building owners/managers.  Ulanda Williams has cuts, scrapes, bruises and an arm broken in not just one, but two places from her ordeal, why does her weight not entitle her  to such?

Judge not, lest ye…

Answer to the ∞th Question

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My child you’ve asked Me to define
How do you feel a life divine
A presence in the air you breathe
It’s when My child I call you Mine

I’m in the shh-shh of the breeze
Soft flowing through the willow’s leaves
I’m in the chanting of the chimes
The faltering of buzzing bees

I’m wrapped in the most ancient rhymes
Brought through to these most modern times
I’m the warble of bluebird’s song
A testament to changing climes

I’m the magnet whose pull’s so strong
To help right you before the wrong
The crowd you handle on your own
The Single Presence in the throng

I’m in the chances that you’ve blown
I’m in the peace when you atone
I’m in the strength when fears you fight
I’m in the pleasures when you moan

I’m in each morsel that you bite
The prayers you retire at night
I am the final finish line
The practice of a life lived right

So child you’ve asked Me to define
How do you feel a life divine
It’s when My love is mixed with thine
It’s when My child I call you Mine

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Peace Within and Without

Year’s End Goodbye

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drink-and-dream

“…the winter sets its tears upon us” sung real soft
Old records she listens to, when he’s brought her pain
She knows she’s heard these songs now quite too oft

Two hours to midnight, he’s not home yet
A familiar loneliness comes to her again
Except it’s now tinged with open regret

Outside jolly voices hail the season
While inside her heart breaks, slow as the songs she plays
Brittle and on the edges of reason

The door opens as she hears the clock’s chime
Hearing his footsteps click on the cool marble floor
Stops herself from commenting on the time

Knows just what he’ll say when she sees his face
Knows he’s left even though he’s just walked in the door
Knows that goodbye now sits in hello’s place

Pouring herself shots of liquid spirit
With awe he watches her mouthing the words he says
Her world now spinning, she makes herself sit

Words of apology, words of good-bye
Her emotions tumble-down a deep spiraled well
But refuses to let him see her cry

Forcing a smile, much too tired to think,
Without a second look, she bids him a farewell
Already focused, on the next stiff drink

Before the door closes, her drinking has begun
“…the winter sets its tears upon us” lowly sung
Somewhere in the distance, New Year’s Bells are rung
The tightened grip on her tears is slowly unstrung

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 77 – Happy New Year

A Stark Raivenne Mad Fat Girl In A Victoria’s Secrets World

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A few of my friends will recognize the following event as it actually happened quite some time ago. However, in the hustle and bustle of this holiday season as I found myself in a very similar situation yet again, I have to tell it here just for the amusement – enjoy!

I walked into a local Victoria’s Secret with my best friend. The music coming through the speakers, greets us with various sultry sounding women with descant reprising the equivalent if not necessarily equal musical verse and chapter of how her man has done her wrong, once more, yet again. Because yes, while I’m alone at home, crying my eyes out into yet another gallon of Rocky Road ice cream and popping chocolate truffles like crack, I will want to be wearing hundred-dollar lingerie – but that’s just me.

Actually, that is a moot point. My best friend is the one buying. I’m just tagging along, as the only thing I can truly wear in this establishment is their cologne. For this bastion of beauty designed to adorn the feminine figure with a tempest of frail looking, but delectable lingerie delights had long ago decided that said feminine figures end at a numerical amount somewhat below the number of the ample mold the dear Lord as blessed upon me.

I touch silver links joining together a triangular swatch of silk I first presumed to be an eye patch before I realized it’s actually a thong. I then make the mistake of catching the eye of one of the pretty little sales girls who then swoops upon me like a hawk upon a tit mouse in a national forest park. My best friend, having endured my “I just want to fuck with folks mood” whenever we enter an establishment such as this, had wisely walked away from me knowing nothing good was going to come of this start of a beautiful friendship.

The sales girl wants to know, of course, if she can help me. Her eyebrow locked in that know-it-all “…because you can’t possibly be here making a purchase for yourself!” arch. I barely bite down the first instinct guiding my tongue to say something sweet like “Gain a hundred pounds, live with it for -oh- twenty or so years and come to a place like this – then ask me that question again”. Instead, because I am already bored, I ask if they carry plus sizes. She perked right up informing me (quite enthusiastically I might add), that they carry sizes all the way up to 38F! I smile sweetly, pick-up the nearest 36F I saw and held it up against my ‘numbers’. It was something akin to measuring golf ball against a baseball – but it was enough to wipe the self-satisfied arch off her brow.

Still, the poor, poor child didn’t take the hint and continued to follow me through the store actually answering what ever inane question popped in to my head. I saw a small black thin band of what appeared to be spandex and stretched it a bit. I was actually surprised, as I held it up for the sales girl to the see just as I was about to place it over my hair.

“When did Vicki’s start carrying headbands?” The look of shock on the sales girls face made me stop in mid-air.
“It’s a bandeau bra not a headband.” You’d think the icy coolness dripping of her voice would have stopped me right? Wrong!
“Oh! You mean like a tube top? Cool! Does it come in plus size?” My voice was dripping with as much saccharine as hers dripped glaciers.

I could hear my best friend losing the battle to stifle a laugh from in front of the cashier as she was well aware that I already knew what it was when I picked the damned thing up. The sales girl however, looked like she wanted to club me. I picked up another eye patch that had star-shaped crystals along the band connecting the material at the waist. Can you say ouch?
“Does this blue eye patch scratch?”
My best friend mercifully, for the sales girl anyway, grabbed me by the arm and snatched me out of there. Hey, I did say I was bored, didn’t I?

You know, I just realized I never did get the answer to that scratch question…

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Slice of Life Weekly Story Challenge

 

 

 

 

Slice of Life Weekly Story Challenge

At All

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I go through the motions, put a smile on my face
Oh I’m just fine to those who call
Only one could pull me from this dark space
But you’re gone,
So I don’t care at all

Every time I think I’m doing better
The pain holds me in tighter thrall
And I know you’d hate that I’m like this
But you’re gone,
And I don’t care at all

I know I should be better off than I am
But I also know I just don’t give a damn

When it’s all about “Tis the season”
I still hang garland from doors and walls
I once loved the holidays without reason
But you’re gone,
So I don’t care at all

El Sol churns out yet another day,
The flowers bloom, then leaves fall
Luna glows oh so marvelous they say
But you’re gone,
And I don’t care at all
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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 76 – Holiday Edition

Le Petite Mort

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You take me
With skill,
With strength
With the power of lust

Knowing what you want
And how to get it

To feel the power of your body
Against mine

Head thrown back, body arched
I feel your warm breath
Against my thighs

Just before your lips
Reach the ridge of mine
I watched you
gently blow
Like a too hot cup of coffee

Your hot breath sliding over me
Feeling like soft silk exposed
Making my body respond with abandon

I sense nothing
But you and the promise
Of your body to mine, taunting me
To think of nothing but

The moment

The moment when my body meets yours
In a crashing wave of exquisite pleasure

The kind that rips
The satiated breath from our chests
Sweet reminders
Of all that was said and done

Making us feel so alive
We could die

Le Petite Mort

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub : OpenLinkNight Week 74

 

The Storyteller

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He imagines
So many things
Cabbage and kings
Of shoes and ships

And with a wink
Easily slips
Poetic blips
Of the arcane

Rivers auburn
A mind insane
The odd bloodstain
Can sometimes scare

So he spins words
With utmost care
and takes me there
On crescent waves

Triumphant tales
From birth to grave
And each I save
I know their worth

It’s in his sphere
Of cosmic girth
Welkin and earth
The tales he’s had

And more to come
Verbal nomad
I call him Dad
And my hero

Household legend
But he does know
The seeds he sow
It’s my award

Gaze of rapture
He looks forward
To his reward
When it’s my turn

To tell such tales
Old or modern
Aubades, nocturnes
The moods I’ll bring

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Today’s Form? The Pathya Vat

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 73

Start Somewhere

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 I run my days in such haste
No one thought has time to land
Barely having time to care
I must start somewhere

A still pool of water calls
With a dare to simply glance
A tired me shimmers there
I must start somewhere

Natural needs pushed aside
My all to all but me
For the sake of my welfare
I must start somewhere

I free my mind of clutter
Donate a moment to peace
In awe find a moment spare
I will start with prayer

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Today’s Form:  The Kouta

Kouta – KOH-OU-TA (Japanese: little song) A broad classification for several varieties of short songs from traditional to popular which is most often associated with the songs made popular in the pleasure quarters of Edo (old Tokyo) where they were often composed and sung by geisha to the accompaniment of the shamisen.

Kouta has two forms, both four lines. The first has a syllable count of 7-5-7-5, and the other has a count of 7-7-7-5.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week: 71

In The Company of Heroes

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When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me all of me
Evanescence – My Immortal / Fallen

In the company of heroes is how I often feel
Your lives forced into a world tipsy and surreal
A struggle from the moment your first breath premiers
Clotho’s newest thread in life’s ongoing tapestry
I ignore the naysayers of your tough chances to be
I’m among the first to get to know your excellence my dears
As I engage in the daily wait of a hope and a prayer:
For quick release from the terrors that constrict your air
Trying to balance a life already in arrears
When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears

What the world needs now is to see you fight against death
See you working towards the next small but tantalizing breath
That every morning you live to see is a cause for cheers
All the world’s a stage and you are its most promising star
And my job is behind the wings to get you that far
For the world is a tunnel vision until your sight clears
You’re just too young to know all that you go through
That I’m there holding your tiny hand smiling at you
Or if in your vexing sleep, a nightmare appears;
When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears

Even in the quietest moments sometimes your bodies shake
The wretched fevers your young bodies try to break
Or in the wee twilight hours how your pleas reach my ears
I’m grateful for your screams, their justice I seek
The thousand of cries are promises of a life not weak
I like to think that some small value of my Zen adheres
Though it’s a wisdom felt with absolute prudence
Thus uttered only in moments of complete silence
Though gone from me, you’ll remember in life’s jeers
I held your hand through all of these years

I hide among the simple, among the small select
Just doing a job, my soul chooses to elect
Having a temperance for each and every special baby
But the generosity of my spirit is always short-lived
When unto the new guardians of you I must give
One way or another you’re taken away from types like me
My neonatal babies that fight just to survive each day
Your headlong courage always holding such sway
As you live you won’t remember any of this I now see
But you still have all of me

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Just a few days ago I was listening to Evanescence’s My Immortal from their Fallen CD and the refrain reminded me of an older friend of mine who worked in a neonatal care unit.  She would occasionally speak of some of the babies that crossed her path.  Holding their tiny, trembling hands. The ones that screamed until exhaustion took them only to wake and scream again. They didn’t all reach it, but the goal was always to help them survive to the point they can survive on their own. Every now and again she would be lucky enough to see  them grow throughout their childhood years and on rare occasion to adulthood. Even though very few would ever know of her existence in their lives in those very early days.

My favored glosa form, designed to used the words of another, was the perfect vehicle for today’s prompt. This write is for her and all the countless others like her simply doing their job.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar: Literary Allusion

Query…

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So, a friend posed an interesting query in one of my Facebook groups:

“So here’s the question. If you there was a button that you could push that would give you superpowers but would also permanently change you to the opposite gender – would you push it? Would it be a hard decision, whether your answer was yes or no? Or is it an obvious choice?”

My initial response was heartfelt No!  I enjoy being female in this modern-day and age.  For all the roads we have yet to travel equality wise etcetera, so many more have opened up for women just in the past hundred plus years alone it is a great time to be female.

But then I stopped thinking about me, and me being me, went and did what I always do and over thought the hell out of it in a generic sense.

In a transgender scenario, the flip to the opposite sex is obvious, having a superpower to boot is a bonus. This sex switch mostly becomes of interest for the cisgendered.

What of the woman who now has all the physical characteristics of a male, but her heart and soul would remain feminine?  If the new body build is proportionate to the original (a tall, fat male becomes a tall, fat female etc.), I’d say that is going to make the desire to wear a dainty dress interesting.  Is she in drag now?

Let’s go down to another level, sexuality.  A hetero male is now in a woman’s body. His sexual preference is still for females – you just know someone is going to ask if this now makes him a lesbian.  Yes, he can now teleport, but can he handle the perception of being gay?

And speaking of perceptions….

This is looking at it from the view of the person who chooses to push the button.  What of the married hetero female, who did not choose to switch and power up, who now has to deal with having a wife? What if they live somewhere that does not recognize gay marriage? Hell, what if the husband, in his new bodacious female body, is even prettier than she?  Trust me – some women are going to go there.

Oh, that rabbit hole is getting pretty damn deep there isn’t it, Alice?

Now let us swing that spot light from the generic back to specific -aka me- again.

Would I be willing to trade being a female to have the ability of flight, telepathy or telekinesis, shape-shifting or a myriad of other self-serving powers? Absolutely not.

However, what if with a push of that magical button I have the ability to heal?

  • With just a simple touch – the mangled body from a car crash – restored.
  • The baby born with a deformed heart – now whole.
  • Make that virulent cancer not just go into remission, but disappear as though it never existed.

I’m not a girly-girl. Never having to wear a dress (or bra), again would not hurt me in the least. I think I have strong masculine features in my face anyway, so other than a change of hair and not bothering with make-up would also be a bonus. My friends who know me well already say I think like a male in so many ways, personality-wise I do not think it be much different. And to top it all off, I do love my men and my women, so even sexually I’m still in a good place.  At this stage in my life, I may very well be one of the best candidates for that particular button pushing.

Were I still married and raising my children, I know I would likely turn it down without a second’s thought or regret. However, I am not married and my children are very much adults.

So if I can heal others, would the adjustments to my new body, both physiologically and psychologically, outweigh the greater good of all I can eventually help?

In all honesty, once again, I have to answer Absolutely not.

As the TV show would ask – What Would You Do?