Sunday, July 30, 2006

The Konfessioner's Word:

We have our eldermost guest Konfessioner till date this week. Lets put our hands together for the terrific and elegant Joanne. Her poem FAT really impressed me. We can have a small interactive titbit here... If you ever felt like the person in FAT, would you go to this extreme...?

The whackiest answer gets a K n K gift hamper..! So rake ur brains and be creative...!

In the meantime, read this totally fantastic poem by Joanne...!

Rosie, we are blessed to have you amidst us.

-Nikhil Mahajan


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Author's Note:

Hi, my name is Joanne.. I write under the name of 'Rosie', I am 44 years old and I'm from Stockton on Tees in Cleveland, England. I have a daughter aged 14, Amelia.

I used to write poetry in my younger days and then I never wrote anything for years and years ... until my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

I started writing my feelings and wrote a poem for her 'Our Last Gift For You' which my brother, who is a musician, put music to and we gave it to our mother before she eventually died! She was overwhelmed and I'll never forget that day as long as I live... Anyway... since then I've written about 300 poems on various themes and this is just one of them...

I present to you, FAT.

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FAT

She steps from the bathroom scales
hating herself for being so weak,
and catching sight of her reflection...
wonders how she became such a freak.

Today would be so different.
Today she'd be strong, she was sure.
With her stash of laxatives to help
flush the badness straight out of her.

Just liquid today, she's decided,
and the pills would get rid of all that.
So she'd no longer have to hide away
from the world, for being so fat.

She sleeps through the day.. she's so tired.
Waking only as nature demands,
then as darkness starts to engulf her,
she's so proud she's achieved what she planned.

Two days later, she wakes in a hospital bed...
her ravaged body can't take any more.
She knows the drill, the drips are attached
to her wasted body.. a tiny size four.

-Rosie 22.03.2006

2 comments:

Missy Baba said...

Poetry when kept this real always sticks to you like the sugar on burnt caramel...it isnt sweet it isnt too hard..just perfect, and tastes different with each bite..and best with vanilla ice cream...

Rosie...thank you for being a part of our Konfession Korner this week.. your poem reminds me of the million friends and myself who struggle with their weight problems, forgetting often that shrinking isn't always the best idea...maybe you just saved someone the pain today.. :) thank you!

Shinjini.

NATASHA said...

when the world arn u thinks ur a freak coz ur fat....few can keep their senses abt dem...n maintain their shell of self-respect...painfully nough i was oone of the few
wat the poem describes id nything compared tp the extent that classmate of urs went to coz u teased him o her for being fat
then loosing weight is not the issue...it becomes a phobia...that i like to call...fat-phobia
it is dangerous n life raking
think again before u tease sumone...to an extent its a motivator beyond that it is an instigator