Thread: One Woman War

She's at war
with enemies
sired by Father Time
who march in fine lines
from trench to trench.

Each dawn,
she sidles up
to her glass self,
magnifier in hand,
living only to look
yet dying to see
advances
made so minutely
by barely visible invaders.

Offended by their offensive,
she squeezes out
then slathers on
her first defense,
which makes no sense,
for her battle plan
is all too clearly lacking.
Back to the big guns.

Beneath a battered sombrero
(UV rays riddle rival ranks)
she taps slippered toes
as she spies the street from her gate;
her paratrooper postman
is dropping reinforcements,
but he's an hour late.

Corporal Bo
and Lieutenant Tox
join her company
as she sips
scotch on the rocks
way before noon,
too frozen to be seen
at the saloon,
or anywhere else.

Both flaccid fillers
and fair-weather friends
who will evacuate
within weeks,
if she can even figure out
how to get the hypo in.

Don't waste your breath
with warnings.
A stockpile of pricks
paralyzed her brain
making medics cut her off,
all admonishing
such assault's insane,
but overseas ammo
is so easy to obtain.

Syringe in hand,
she peers
at occupied landscape
seeking a prized position
to ensure lazy lips
won't forget agape.

She's blessedly unaware
she's been a POW
for nearly a decade,
losing a war
that can only be won
if she stops inhaling.

At only forty,
with young lungs
far from failing,
a wake up call,
would without doubt,
arrest her smooth sailing
and set her essence bailing...



a souldier gone AWOL
always stops the clock.

Loved it, Loved it! So very true to the plot of the weaker sex, I'm afraid.

Corporal Bo and Lieutenant Tox join her company ( I had to laugh at this Lisa!)

a souldier(typo) gone AWOL always stops the clock. (Sure does....Just ask the Lady and The Candle in the Wind)

A hearty AMEN for your signature, thank you, Te, I needed that today. I'm so happy you enjoyed, I thought I tanked this time around. However unfunny this really is, Bo and Tox were meant to incite a little giggle, I'm thrilled you were able to oblige me. Onto souldier, not a typo, it's intentional. I altered the spelling to suit my need. It's a good thing poetic license won't let me operate a motor vehicle, just imagine the casualties, lol. Two of my favorite songs, I love you! And I miss you, write once in awhile for God's sake. Thanks so much, dearest Te.

Me

Guys, I've been having awful computer problems, it took me over an hour to get WF to open today. Sonny boy downloaded some crap to cheat at Halo and now the computer is complete crap. I've been reading all of your pieces, oh so very slowly, but replies are taking forever and sometimes don't go through at all, I keep being told I'm not connected to the net when I am, and then I lose everything. I'll catch up as soon as I can, gonna pin my son down today and tell him to undo whatever he's done.

I questioned myself about that typo knowing you, child! lol Perhaps the title should be Every Woman's War, or everyone over fourty that is, not that I would know, lol

I've got to be honest and say that the first couple of reads didn't do much for me. But a lot of your wordplay went straight over my head for some reason; I don't know, maybe I was just tired or distracted. Anyway, I see now that there is quite a bit here to like, not just with wordplay, either; you do a lot fun things with rhyme as well. I'm not 100% sure I understand the last two stanzas, but the rest is crystal clear.

One other question I have:

She's blessedly unaware
she's been a POW
for nearly a decade,

Is this a reference to being addicted to botox or something? Is botox even addicting? Maybe you just mean she's addicted to the treatment itself? (I'm terrified of needles, so the less I know about the stuff the better I feel.) I bring this up, however, because in my mind she IS a prisoner of her war against the ravages of time, metaphorically speaking, and since she's doing all this fancy face-work, she's certainly not "unaware" of it. That's why I figured you must mean something else; I'm just not sure what that something else is.

RE: computer troubles

My deepest sympathies. I'd go absolutely batty without mine.

Dear Te, Now you've gone and let the cat out of the bag. I've been blessed with elastic skin, very few wrinkles on me. The title was a problem, but I settled on one woman because not all are so self absorbed. Aging is natural and unstoppable, the wise accept that.


Dear Bachelorette, Not so terrible, the computer woes, I mean. Now we at least move at the same pace. lol. Wordplay is the key here. As for the lines you stated, like any obsessed person, she doesn't realize she spends most of her time engaged in her obsession. That time is lost to her. The last two stanzas say that should her addiction be pointed out, in desperation, she'd take her own life. Wrinkles come with age, trying to fight them is a losing battle which she couldn't handle had she been enlightened. Best to stop the clock before the crows' feet take over. I hope I'm making some sense. Thanks so much for the read, I know this one is weird.

All the best to you both,
Lisa

This one gave me a good chuckle, as I understand the feeling so well. If only the clock could be stopped on our faces. I know someone who fits this quite well and though I love her to death, it is a bit sad to see such an obsession. She is starting to move into the realm of not looking natural, which I hate.

Originally Posted by Chester's Daughter

As for the lines you stated, like any obsessed person, she doesn't realize she spends most of her time engaged in her obsession. That time is lost to her.

Ah, so she's just not especially self-aware. That makes sense. Guess I was confused because I *always* know when I'm obsessing about something; I assume because it happens so often, haha.

I know this one is weird

Nah. Not weird. I guess I just can't relate to it, myself, but that didn't stop me from enjoying it. I just maybe didn't get as much out of it as I would have if I COULD relate.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall.
why hath thou face,
taken to fall?"

"I'm a Fun House mirror, silly!"

Nothing like denial.

Funny yet sad, your poem addresses our "Stay young at any cost" sociatal maxim.

She's at war
with enemies
sired by Father Time
who march in fine lines
from trench to trench.

Brilliantly subtle!

Both flaccid fillers
and fair-weather friends
who will evacuate
within weeks,
if she can even figure out
how to get the hypo in.

Chills! A slave to a syringe.

Thank you for this poem. I'd tried every wrinkle cream on the market at one point in my life, applying them to a face with no lines. Now, I don't give a hoot. Such freedom!

You know, for me to even begin to understand the feelings that drive this narrator is a miracle. Ha, or just an excellent poem. I love the metaphor. So strong. Thoughts:

Originally Posted by Chester's Daughter

She's at war
with enemies
sired by Father Time
who march in fine lines Agreed with SM about this wordplay. Subtle, brilliant.
from trench to trench.

Each dawn,
she sidles up
to her glass self,
magnifier in hand,
living only to look
yet dying to see
advances
made so minutely
by barely visible invaders. I dare say this is a perfect stanza.

Offended by their offensive,
she squeezes out
then slathers on
her first defense,
which makes no sense,
for her battle plan
is all too clearly lacking.
Back to the big guns.

Beneath a battered sombrero
(UV rays riddle rival ranks)
she taps slippered toes
as she spies the street from her gate;
her paratrooper postman
is dropping reinforcements,
but he's an hour late.

Corporal Bo
and Lieutenant Tox Heh. Too good.
join her company
as she sips
scotch on the rocks My favorite line. Just love the sounds and the use of the line.
way before noon,
too frozen to be seen
at the saloon,
or anywhere else.

Both flaccid fillers
and fair-weather friends
who will evacuate
within weeks,
if she can even figure out
how to get the hypo in.

Don't waste your breath
with warnings. A nit here - the addressing of these two lines seems a bit out of touch with the rest of the piece. I would say it's not even needed. Maybe look at cutting?
A stockpile of pricks
paralyzed her brain
making medics cut her off,
all admonishing
such assault's insane,
but overseas ammo
is so easy to obtain.

Syringe in hand,
she peers
at occupied landscape
seeking a prized position
to ensure lazy lips
won't forget agape.

She's blessedly unaware
she's been a POW
for nearly a decade,
losing a war
that can only be won
if she stops inhaling.

At only forty,
with young lungs
far from failing,
a wake up call, Comma here is unnecessary.
would without doubt, Same with this one.
arrest her smooth sailing
and set her essence bailing...



a souldier gone AWOL
always stops the clock.

I just NEVER know what you are going to write about...But am always intrigued. I adore this piece for reasons known only to me...
SilverMoon---I too enjoy freedom now. Peace...Jul

Lisa, I really enjoyed this one. Loved your play on words. Really brought a playfulness to the subject matter here and made the piece an even better read. Don't really have an nits or suggestions for this one (except maybe to take out that ellipses towards the end, but that's mostly because I just hate them), but I at least wanted to drop in and let you know that I truly enjoyed it. (I made a deal with God, so I plan on staying in my twenties forever. Lol.)

I love the wording of this piece, and I'm going to have to look for more stuff from you. I feel like it flows really well and it was well thought out. Very clever, I don't usually enjoy such light subject matter (nor was I expecting it from the title) but I really enjoyed experiencing your talent in a new type of writing. Thanks alot for posting.