My Cardboard Balcony

Awareness by Belinda Roddie Deprogramming takes a lifetime. Especially if the system doesn't change.

Nimbostratus by Belinda Roddie Watch me: I'm holding a cloud in the palm of my hand. See, it dances. It's light. Surprisingly warm. If it's going to rain, it will only drench my fingers. Nothing else. See her: I view her like a little sister. I see that light. The cloud I hold doesn't get close. But there may be shadows. Light always comes with shadows. Why must I take the onus of others' potential darknesses? My expectations may very well fall like rain. Trust soaked in sewage. Silent treatment the only option. Because if I didn't do that, I would just scream. Two people in love. Maybe three. Maybe four. Maybe more. Is it mutual? Is it consensual? Is there communication? Is there patience? We cannot dance with each others' demons if we don't try to practice the choreography. I don't dance. I just stand there, watching the gala. Palming the little cloud. Waiting for it to burst. To inundate me. And I'll learn to breathe in the storm.

Bloodline by Belinda Roddie It's National Siblings Day. Cheers to my brother and sister.

This has been a really nice spring break. A seder. An Easter brunch. A lot of down time. A hike with my mom. Some grilling because I'm secretly already a dad at heart. Some filming. A clothing shopping spree. A poetry night. An evening celebrating a friend's birthday. Now I just gotta enjoy the weekend as much as I can before I'm back to the grind.  Hope y'all have been well. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Poetry Night by Belinda Roddie The tiger prowls. The raven learns acrobatics, yet knows all. The boy I loved bought sushi at the corner store while I attended the omakase and felt the lady's lips melt in my mouth like blue crab on rice. Hollowed out, lightheaded ones attend us at our flawed apocalypse. Meanwhile, we cannot wake up. We dream in water from the Liffey, half-asleep though it be, as our words in essay form become as fragile as glass. Hypotheticals yank their pearl necklaces like snakes from their bared throats. They were gullible royalty - now they are red earth and blue sky, salt. Nothing more. Divide my heart from my torso, and you will find gravity in kisses. You, my first sip of bourbon. You, my farewell in a moment. You, my laughter in a moment of online static. You, my homosexuality on the rocks. You, my five string guitar. How I adore nectarines, and you are my nectarine! My Ogden Nash to cleanse the palate! My heart is very like a whale - is yours swollen like ...

Cheers, Buddy by Belinda Roddie Cinnamon tea on a good friend's birthday. I like this.

Five Hundred by Belinda Roddie Five hundred shadow monsters raided town and raised hell on the deacon's wedding day. Luckily, he and his bride were renowned for their battle skills, for beasts they would slay on the daily, so they were quite prepared. The deacon raised his staff and cast a spell, and his bride had a wicked blade that scared off ghouls and could deflect the Reaper's knell as They cast demons upon the array of guests. But the wedding guests also bore their spears and scrolls and holy water. Gray smoke rose from shadow monsters' bodies, gore bedecked the once pristine rose garden, and Deacon and Bride slew beasts while holding hands.