# Sometimes Love Ain't Blind Enough



## Chesters Daughter (Jun 24, 2010)

Salt on the move
slowly sliding down
folded flesh
splats
on blue dinner plate,
she stops counting drops
at forty.

Six hundred pounds
spill off a reinforced chair
as hubby biggest
sprinkles his celery with salt.
The pound perspired
in the last five minutes
had to be replaced.
Veggies at the table,
ten cheeseburgers
and triple fries hidden 
under the couch.
Just a little snack.

A pool of sweat collects
between stalks
as balloons drowned in blubber
gurgle their displeasure
and an overburdened pump
struggles to service
the far reaches of its universe.
Fingertips match the plate;
broadened horizons 
aren't always a plus.

Knowing a bushel of produce
would be supplemented
by a sack of fat,
she grabs her bag and keys.
Jowls jiggle with his whine
"Where ya goin?"
"Can't watch you indulge
in slow suicide again tonight."
Head bowed, he continues crunching.

With a full moon monopolizing center stage,
she finds him wedged tight
in the doorway, head lolling in a doze.
Dialing, she slumps onto the first stair
bracing to placate a pissed paramedic
weary of repeated extrications.

Arms crossed over knees,
she buries her face to disguise her wince 
as sirens rouse her sleepy giant.
He smiles, as does she,
a little piece of her wishing
true love didn't exist.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 25, 2010)

Lisa, the title could be the title of a song! Loved it. As I read this you're speaking of a grossly obese husband who might have had a heart attack. But then I realize I can't be right. As follows.


> as sirens rouse her sleepy giant.
> He smiles, as does she,


 
No one smiles during a heart attack unless they are severly masochistic! 

Smooth alliteration, lady! The imagery, magnificent and your using one of my favorite words "splat" Don't ask me why. I have no idea?


> Salt on the move
> slowly sliding down
> folded flesh
> splats


 
I enjoyed this immensley. Partial to it because you "story tell" as I do. A great _poemstory. _Laurie


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## Foxryder (Jun 25, 2010)

This is great I admit. I'm grossly in tune with the poem, admiring your fluid style all the way to the end. 

The last stanza was just superb! 

Write oh gifted poet. lol


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## vangoghsear (Jun 25, 2010)

This is a touching tale of addiction and the ones it hurts.



> Arms crossed over knees,
> she buries her face to disguise her wince
> as sirens rouse her sleepy giant.
> He smiles, as does she,
> ...



Brings it all home.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jun 27, 2010)

Dear Laurie, Elated you love the title, I thought it might be a bit too blah. You're right, no heart attack, although I've made it clear he's on his way to one. Actually, he's just so big, he can't fit through doorways so he gets stuck, and often. That's why she has to soothe the paramedic, EMS is tired of extricating him. Glad you enjoyed the alliteration and the word splat, it's an ugly word but I thought it worked pretty well in this context. Storytelling is something we share, and I am honored to be in such wonderful company. Thank you for your kind words, love.


Dear Foxryder, Now look what you've done, I'm blushing. Thank you so much. I take fluid as the ultimate compliment. Used to be reading my pieces was like riding in the back of a fifty year old pickup lurching along a rutted dirt road. Glad you found the last stanza superb. Thrilled you enjoyed, hon.


Dear Van, I'm way out of my usual element here, so touching means a great deal. Initially, I intended the Mrs. to be a meanie, but with the first insult written, I realized it felt wrong so I changed tack. I am so very happy it worked for you, and that my intended message came through.

Thanks to all for sharing your precious time with me.

All my best,
Lisa


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## SvirVolgate (Jun 27, 2010)

I really love the title of this piece. 

"broadened horizons 
aren't always a plus."

That's a great line.

"With the moon high in the sky"

i'm not in love with this line, it's a bit meh to me.

Overall this is a really strong piece. Thanks for sharing!!


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 2, 2010)

Dear Svir, You are being far too kind with meh and I'm glad you called me on it. As soon as it exited my nib I paused to scold myself for being lazy, but was so intent on getting the entire piece down while still fresh in my mind, I said I would come back to it, which I never did. Thanks for not letting me slide, it was pure crap. I've changed it to something a little better, but it's only a fill in until I come up with something I like. Thrilled you loved the title, I wasn't too sure of it, and doubly thrilled you liked "broadened horizons..." as I'm pretty fond of that one myself. Thanks so much for the read and your wonderful input.

All my best,
Lisa


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## un named (Jul 7, 2010)

A pool of sweat collects
between stalks
as balloons drowned in blubber
gurgle their displeasure
and an overburdened pump
struggles to service
the far reaches of its universe.
Fingertips match the plate;
broadened horizons 
aren't always a plus.

that stanzas my favorite.  
and this is poem is really touching, and somewhat sad.


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## Jessica Charnley Anderson (Jul 7, 2010)

Love that the parallel addictions. His for food and hers for him. That last stanza is fantastic.


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## Gumby (Jul 7, 2010)

You've done it again Lisa. Such a gut wrenching story and you've cut to the heart of it, and held me captive from beginning to end. With a style that is uniquely you, I think I would recognize your work anywhere, can I be the President of your fan club? :cheers:


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## Edgewise (Jul 7, 2010)

Nothing to suggest CD.  The piece is immaculate, narrative, content, images, flow.  This time it's my turn to be jealous.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 13, 2010)

Dear un named, That stanza is also my favorite. I'll take touching but sad any day, love, thank you so much.


Dear Jessica, Without her addiction, the piece couldn't be. Addiction, in any form is dangerous, no matter how pretty its name may sound. I'm happy you caught both and that you found the last stanza fantastic.


Dear Cindy, Gee, love, I don't know what to say. The fact that you can recognize my work is more recognition than I had ever hoped for. You most certainly you may be President of my fan club, but only if I can be President of yours. You enchanted me with your very first piece and my loyalty is sound. Elated beyond words that you enjoyed. Your opinion means much to me.


Dear Edge, I really don't know what to say, Edge. I'll have to settle for a simple heartfelt thank you for no mere words can relate the extent of my feelings. The fact that you used immaculate thrilled the clean freak in me, but the fact that you enjoyed sans suggestions made the writer in me stand tall. Thank you.


My sincere thanks to all, for your time and trouble, and more importantly, for being you and for sharing, not enough words to express my gratitude.

Best,
Lisa


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## huni (Jul 15, 2010)

Lisa - how wonderful is this, made me glad I stopped to read it and why I write poetry at all come back to me, to tell a story - as you have done so well. Everything is my fav. line so I'll just mention the one I find so very clever: 
'as hubby biggest'

I read hubby biggest but heard in my head, 'hubby dearest' and felt the warmth/love/addiction/frustration of the wife all at once. WELL  DONE!    huni





;


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 18, 2010)

Dear huni, What a great pleasure to hear from you again, it's been far too long since you've been about. I am elated that you enjoyed this to such an extent, honored in fact. I love to tell my stories more than anything, the rush of creating can be equaled by nothing. Thanks so much for the nod for "hubby biggest", I was hesitant to use it, thought its importance might be missed, obviously not, huh?:wink: I truly hope you'll be posting a piece sometime very soon, it would be wonderful to read you again, I've always enjoyed your efforts. Please stick around, huni, you're most certainly an asset to this board.

All my best,
Lisa


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