Showing posts with label ableism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ableism. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

April PAD Challenge + NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 30

 

Image by Dmitry Abramov from Pixabay

This will be our last daily prompt for a while, Poetry People. I decided to end on a fun one, writing a silly limerick about a smack-talking Cyclops and a cheating golem made from bread running a race.


This final Twofer Tuesday prompt of the challenge asks poets to write a beginning poem and/or an end poem.

My poem has both a beginning and an end.

It doesn't end well, but if you enjoy twisted dark humor, you'll like it.


This year's final NaPoWriMo post invites participants to write a poem in which the speaker is identified with, or compared to, a character from myth or legend.

Hence, the Cyclops and the bread golem.

I believe this is the first time anyone has written specifically about a bread golem. In fairness, the infamous gingerbread man is also a golem made from foodstuffs. 

I was up until close to three in the morning preparing my submission email for Dragon Soul Press. It's flown to its destination and was swiftly acknowledged. 

This is the link you require if you're interested in submitting to their forthcoming horror drabble anthology (submission deadline 31 May). 


Don't direct further questions to me 'cause I can't answer 'em! I'm just the messenger.

I hope one day soon I come to a place of peace with this damn CPAP machine. I fare better when I keep it on, but I don't like having things on my face. I usually take the mask off while I'm asleep. 

I really do wish society, including the medical community, would stop shaming people for not being perfect specimens of exceptional health. I feel like a failure for having diabetes. I feel like a failure for needing a CPAP machine. I felt like a failure when I had to have an emergency C-section. I feel like a failure anytime one of my old fillings needs replacing. Telling people they're failures if they have health issues doesn't lead to improved outcomes, and this ineffective method of "encouragement" needs to stop. 

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~



Sunday, February 18, 2024

Grodes

 

Image by Else Siegel from Pixabay

Fair warning that the following post is chock-a-block with profanity.
If you're sensitive about that sort of thing, don't read it.



What if we replace
the word prejudice with Grodes--
could we see the truth?

I would like to suggest
we get rid of the Grodes,
rather than eradicate
those who are different,
either by physical means
or by enforced compliance.

I'm no fool, though.
I'm aware that some asshole would come along,
suggesting that the Grodes were the people
who didn't comply
rather than the prejudices
such people face.

They would take my suggestion
that we get rid of the Grodes.
They'd corrupt and pervert it
until it was unrecognizable.

In the end, I'd be blamed
While some motherfucker
who resembled donald tRump
or his idol Vladimir Putin
or some other corrupt dictator
with a cult of personality
would come along
and take all the credit
for getting rid of the Grodes.

Not once acknowledging
that I meant something entirely different. 

How many times, I wonder,
has history laid the blame on some nothing nobody
just trying to make things right,
while the pigs and rat bastards
party in the big house
or the White House,

making a mockery
of anyone who doesn't toe the party line.

I urge the pretty people
to pay close attention
to my cautionary tale.

Anyone can be a Grode
if they step out of line.
It isn't just us ugly fuckers
who wind up
on society's reject pile.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Emmie_Norfolk from Pixabay



Ornery Owl's Post-Post Thoughts

The witch at the beginning of the post has a very similar appearance to yours truly, although I stopped dyeing my prematurely graying hair blonde twenty years ago. My hair is thick and resistant to most color formulas, so I have to bleach it first. That process made it brittle. It was coming out in clumps, so one day I said “fuck it.” That moment was freeing.

I will never understand why society treats people who aren’t conventionally attractive as if we’ve committed some sort of crime that we need to be punished for. Couldn’t you just leave us alone?



Fat.
Old.
Ugly.
So what?
No, you don't have permission to use my photo to ridicule me. Go fuck yourself.



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Free use image by Gordon Johnson on Pixabay

Legal Eagle's Corner



 BY: credit must be given to the creator.
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Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration Day 11 April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2023

 

Image by Moondance from Pixabay

Good day, afternoon, evening, or whatever it is wherever you are. Today's poetry prompt from NaPoWriMo asks participants to write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made you laugh, or something someone told you once that struck you as funny.


Well, you know me. I don't always follow instructions, and, after seeing today's April PAD Challenge Twofer Tuesday prompt, I turned the humorous portion of the prompt upside down.


Today's prompt asks participants to write a form or anti-form poem, so I kind of did both. I went to the following list of poetry forms:


I selected the Kimo, which is an Israeli three-line poetic form.


The lines need not rhyme. The syllable structure is 10-7-6.

I wrote a Haibun sort of thing with 100 words of prose followed by a Kimo.

Although I cannot share my Haibun here and now as I will be submitting it for consideration in the forthcoming Soul Ink anthology from Dragon Soul Press, I will tell you a little bit about it.

I wrote the Kimo first but placed it after the prose portion. Prose followed by a three-line poem is standard Haibun form. Using a Kimo rather than a Haiku or Senryu is non-standard. 

The Kimo addressed a lover leaving and their partner deeming their departure a relief.

I found inspiration for the prose portion of the poem from this prompt:


The prompt contains poetry about flowers. I begin my Haibun by discussing the fact that the area where I live is very dry, so one does not see many flowers. I transition into a problem that I did not expect to encounter in such a small town. I use an upright walker to help support my lower back if I wish to walk more than about a quarter mile. The walker helps me to be able to cover longer distances without pain because it helps my spine stay aligned.

I've really never understood why people make such a big fuss about this device. People try to help me get it down my porch steps. One day, I would like to replace these steps with a ramp, but currently, there are steps. I always decline the offer, telling them that if I can't manage it myself, I shouldn't be doing it. 

My walker has a seat, and one time I was sitting in an abandoned parking lot on the edge of town, looking at the sky and contemplating making lasagna for dinner. This well-meaning woman drove up asking in a very concerned voice if I was all right. I was a bit taken aback as I wasn't even having particularly deep thoughts, but I wasn't terribly offended about the incident as I am acquainted with this lady and she tends to fuss over people. I didn't think much more about it and made my way back through town, which is when things got really ridiculous.

I've told this story before, but it's been a while. This fellow approached me to give me a pep talk and tell me how if I just prayed hard enough, God would heal me of my ailment. I said I didn't have any ailment, I had just messed up my back working physically demanding jobs for decades and the walker allowed me to be able to walk more than short distances without my back hurting. 

This man then proceeded to compliment me on my hair, which I had made the mistake of wearing down. He said, "you have beautiful hair. If we could just get your body to match your hair, you'd be a real doll."

I couldn't hide my outrage over this stupefyingly inappropriate statement. I felt like saying, "and if you'd shut your mouth, people might mistake you for handsome." However, I opted to keep the snark in check. I said, "I don't care what I look like." He looked at me as if I'd just said, "the moon is made of stroopwafels," and said, "why not? We do!" 

I was wondering who this "we" he was referring to was, but opted not to pursue the matter. I said I needed to be going. His parting words to me were: "you need to believe in yourself, Honey!"

I'm not sure how I was failing to "believe in myself." I was only trying to take a walk, and other people were believing I wasn't capable of doing that without their unwanted assistance.

As if that wasn't enough, a utility worker who had just come out of the general store asked me if I needed a ride. I tried to make a joke of the matter, stating: "I'm just getting my exercise. If I don't, nobody else will."
My lame attempt at a joke was met with: "okay, but do you need a ride."
I replied, "no, thank you," while trying not to let him see my disgust.

That was October 2020. I have never gone for a walk using my walker again.

I tell this story because I think it's important that able-bodied people realize infantilizing disabled people is discouraging to us. Folks, believe me, I have done some un-fucking-believeably stupid, and I do mean STUPID shit in my time. One of my worst moments was shouting to be heard when a mute man came into the bookstore where I worked looking for a certain book. He gestured at his ears indicating that he wasn't hearing impaired. I felt, and rightfully so, like a complete fucking moron. This happened in the late '80s, and I still cringe whenever I remember it.

Image by MR1313 from Pixabay

Another unforgettable moment of cringe-inducing stupidity was perpetrated by a twit on Twitter fishing for compliments. This darling lady in her early 40s wanted it affirmed that she wasn't "the oldest person on Twitter." No, Babycakes, not by a long shot. I'm 15 - 20 years older than you are, and there are people older than me who use Twatter. Who the fuck cares?

I didn't respond to this tweet, but I did respond to the one she made after several people (mostly men) reassured her that she was still attractive and "loved." Excuse me while I go have a jolly puke.

🤮

Image by Nina Garman from Pixabay

Seriously, if you're ever thinking about doing something like this woman did, just don't. You may be feeling insecure about your attractiveness or whatever. Don't most of us at some point in this image-conscious and youth-oriented society? However, if you refrain from fishing for compliments from strangers on social media, at least your dignity will remain intact.

The tweet I responded to was the one where she said something along the lines of: "hurray for mature Twitter! Let's all throw our canes and walkers in the air in celebration!" Which is surely a completely mature thing to say, don't you think?

At that point, this old owl was done with her jolly puke and was not about to allow this foolishness to continue unreprimanded. What I said was something along the lines of: "not all elderly people use mobility aids and not all people who use mobility aids are elderly. Further, forty is hardly ancient. Stereotypes about age and disability are a bad look."

I think that's about all the damage I can do around this pop stand today.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Kevin from Pixabay
Ornery Owl really wonders about people sometimes. Like, seriously.

Here is what I was listening to while creating this post.


Monday, November 7, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 7: Adapt or Die

 

"Adapt or die, foolish little fool!" the intimidating alien rumbled.

I, however, refused to be shaken, no matter how he grumbled.

"Hah!" I snorted. "For something so impressive in appearance, you certainly lack cleverness.

"Anyone can see that I am far from little.

"My ass is large, and so is my middle."

"Yes, and you've had to find the key to adapting to such undesired conditions, haven't you?" the being inquired pensively. 

"Your luck has not been exactly stellar, wouldn't you agree?

"What you found when you were transported over the rainbow was not what you hoped to see.

"When you shuffled off to the pier to see if your sacred ship had come in,

"Mawkish mediums informed you that your destiny was arriving at the airport too far in the distance for you to find redemption."

"Indeed, and when I asked them to elaborate, they promised to do so for a small fee equal to several of my paychecks," I replied. "I had a suspicion that they might have lied, so I decided I didn't care a shingle for their advice and proceeded to do things my way from that day forward."

"And how is that working out for you?" the alien, who now suspiciously resembled Dr. Phil, pressed.

"Probably better than the flashy fairy tale I once believed was my destiny," I sentimentally surmised, as glimmers of dreams of what might have been glittered in my eyes, overflowing down my face. "I'm pleased that I'm not surrounded by fake people to annoy me, but there have been times in my life when loneliness threatened to destroy me.

"I've discovered first-hand that no one cares how the disabled, elderly, and downtrodden fare.

"If you aren't young and you aren't pretty, nobody wants to see you anywhere.

"The liberal elite as much as the rigid right would prefer that the likes of me die and decrease the surplus population.

"Society cares only about the up-and-coming, not those nearing their destination.

"Age bias is rampant, the outsides given more weight than what lies within.

"If I were at all religious, I'd say it's a goddamn sin.

"Being a caustic agnostic, I'll just say it's a crying shame.

"Every year I hope for improvement, and every year it's always the same."

"Yet still you keep on kicking," the alien said, impressed. "I hope to meet more folk like you in my travels--ugly, angry, disabled, fat old women are the best!"

As the alien took off in his spaceship, I couldn't help but grin.

If we'd care more about what's on the inside, a better world could begin.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Free use image by Clkr Free Vector Images on Pixabay

Hangry Wyrm sez:
"I really ate this story up. Five out of five stars! Can we have breakfast now?"


Get your groove on with this melodic deep house mix.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.




Here's another Deep House mix in case you happen to be bogged down with formatting an hour later. Like, you know, not me. I never get bogged down with formatting, or editing, or, you know, anything, because I'm completely perfect and do everything right the first time. First draft? Hah! You mean only draft, Sunshine, because I'm just that good!

I'm off to find someplace to hide my metric butt-ton of bullshit now. Here's the link in case you can't see the player. 


notes and prompts used


The prompt requests:
"For this challenge, let’s go on a wild walk together. Report on what you’ve found and the lessons you’ve learned."

While my piece did not address nature as such, it addresses the sometimes difficult lessons I've learned about myself in my nearly 60 years walking this planet. I honestly don't think I would have survived those "Hollywood dreams" I had in my youth. I'm a sensitive soul, though I seem thick-skinned.


Today's challenge asks participants to create a poem about adaption.


I almost forgot about this prompt. I'll probably play catch-up with it over the next few days. Today's suggestion is:

"Another form of being has just communicated something to you...Write down 5-10 words, to fix the moment forever in your mind then use those words to write about something else."

This prompt gave me the idea of the alien communicating with me.


Word List

key

rainbow

distant/distance

shuffle

transport/ed

shingle

redemption

pier

mediums

sacred

elaborate

suspicion

also sharing with



Thursday, October 14, 2021

Helloween 2021 Day 14: Let Me Out of this Movie

 


Background image by Elena on Pixabay

Text art and effects by Ornery Owl (Cara Hartley)

in the autumn of my life
I hoped to find a little peace
freedom from reminders
of how I've fucked up my life
but people just can't let me be
everyone insists on reminding me
that my body is broken 
as if I didn't know
I've always wanted to be invisible
but I'm just too strange
seen as obscene
I want to leave this scene
let me pass by your screen unseen
should you see me walking by
turn a blind eye

please
can't you just let
this lonely xenomorph
walk on by
I want to leave this movie

I have a whole bunch to say, so I'll credit the prompts used first in case you'd rather stick with just the poem.

prompts

further thoughts
When I lived in the suburbs of a major city, I could anticipate randos shouting crap at me from cars if I tried to take a walk, so I never did. 

I now live in a town of 134 people, many of whom want to be up in my business because, despite the fact that I want nothing more than to be invisible, I'm very visible.

My back is fucked up and I find that using an upright walker helps me keep pressure off my lower back so I can walk longer distances without pain. I can also stop and rest. This situation is unlikely to improve.

I need to either go out early in the morning or late in the evening because otherwise, it's just too "people" out there. As a wise soul once said, "I hate when I go out in public and the public be there."

I'm quite introverted and I have social anxiety. I used to alleviate my social anxiety by getting trashed. I don't want to get trashed anymore.

I can deal with people in small doses but I don't do well with people who either deliberately or inadvertently point out everything that is "wrong" with me. I also have body dysmorphic disorder and it is hard for me to see myself in a neutral light.

I don't like to call attention to myself but the big blue frame I use so I can walk with less pain is pretty damn visible. 

I've always been different, and I've always been very aware that I was different. I once read an interview with Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy where he discussed life as a mixed-race person in a primarily white country (Ireland.) 

Phil said that he did not have a difficult childhood. His mother ran a bed and breakfast and provided a solidly middle-class lifestyle. Phil was well-liked at school and said that he never encountered any overt racism, but he was always extremely aware that he was different and it bothered him considerably.

I deeply resonated with what Phil said. I'm pasty white, which one would think would render me mostly invisible in Western society, but I haven't had that luck. I've often heard that I'm extremely ugly, but I've also heard that I'm "beautiful." 

The guys who spout that nonsense probably think that I'm an easy mark because I'm strange-looking and insecure. When they find out I'm not an easy target, their rhetoric quickly devolves to the same tired insults. Yes, I know, I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm a bitch. That being the case, why the fuck are you bothering me?

As I've gotten older and more disabled, I've had fewer assholes trying to get into my pants. I always say that one asshole in my pants is enough, and I guess you can interpret that as it suits you. Either the person wearing my pants is an asshole, or opinions are like assholes and everyone has one. Both are probably true in my case.

Something happened earlier in the week that really bothered me, and I didn't realize how much it bothered me until I started crying about it yesterday. I'm not given to tears. I usually get angry. But this got under my skin and festered.

There is a man in town that gives me unwanted pep talks whenever he sees me. I'm an agnostic and a realist. I don't think there's going to be any miraculous healing in my case. Whatever. I try not to roll my eyes too hard. But on this occasion, the conversation took a troublesome turn.

Mr. Pep Talk told me that I have beautiful hair. I don't like to talk about my appearance, but, okay, whatever, I have very thick, wavy gray hair. I started going gray at 27. I used to use henna, but I developed a sensitivity to it. Now I just use silver hair dye every few months to give my mop a bit of pop--for my own benefit, no one else's.

I hoped we were done at the "beautiful hair" commentary. Alas, it was not to be. He went on to say:

"If we could just get your body to match your hair, you'd be a real doll."

I felt kind of sickened by that comment if I'm to be honest. It implies several things, none of them particularly good. I didn't have a good response because I was kind of taken aback. I simply said, "I don't care what I look like."

"Well why?" he asked, and given his expression, you'd think that I'd just revealed that I had been sacrificing my neighbors at midnight every full moon, and he was next.

"Because I'm this," I said, tapping my forehead. "I'm not this," followed by a sweeping gesture indicating my body.

"Oh, Honey, you've got to believe in yourself," he said.

Living in a small town, I can't really afford any animosity, so I just gave a non-committal "okey-dokey" and went on my way. 

I don't know why the Universe thinks that shitty cake needed any icing, but it provided me with icing. As I tried to make my way home, a utility worker asked me if I needed a ride home. I tried to make a joke about it, which he didn't get.

"I'm just taking my walk. If I don't, nobody else will."

"Okay, but do you need a ride?"

"No thanks. I live right over there."

Fucking fuck's sake. 

I haven't been for a walk since.

I'm thinking about getting some big, obvious headphones so I can ignore people and have an excuse for it.



Please, please, please, don't condescend to disabled people. It's extremely demoralizing. 

We don't want to hear about how (your) God will heal us if we just pray hard enough.

Don't tell us that we "just need a positive attitude" or "miracles can happen." I suppose they can, but the reality is, it's not likely.

I also have diabetes, and it feels kind of like this when people tell me about "miracle cures" or how their brother's wife's uncle's best friend's sister was cured of their disease or disability by some sort of questionable practice or snake oil.



Unless we're obviously struggling, i.e. with an overload of parcels, don't offer to help. 

Don't focus on our disability or our mobility aid.

Don't tell us our condition is "a shame" or that we're "too young" to be so compromised. 

Don't use terms like "handicapable" or "differently abled." That shit is so condescending. I'm disabled. I'm handicapped. That's reality. That other shit feels like telling a toddler "you're getting to be such a big girl!" Don't do it.


I guess that's about all I have to say about that.

Crowley and I are done with everyone's shyyyyt

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

Ernest Hemingway

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)


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Friday, October 30, 2020

disability

 

Free use image by John Hain on Pixabay


there goes that weird woman, the people say
she's curvy, but not in the right way
an imagination that's wild
is all right in a child
but she should know better by now

she doesn't make any money
she walks kind of funny
she has a crooked leg
her kind should be forced to beg
she really ought to know better

I'm spontaneous, she used to say
but the truth is, she wasn't that way
her sense of priorities is bent
the money she brought in was fast spent
because she didn't know better

she deserves to be in poverty
because she can't rein in her anxiety
she should be ashamed to show her face
since she failed in the rat race
she really ought to know better

she's everything that no-one wants
hiding in the house she haunts
anybody so odd
is fatally flawed
and she really ought to know better

how audacious of her to believe
that her suffering should be relieved
she deserves to be shamed
for her broken body and brain
she really ought to know better

~cie~



The fact that people are made to feel ashamed for needing assistance is unconscionable. I worked mostly in physically demanding jobs for 35 years. Now that I am no longer able to work, I am seen as worthless and the process for attempting to get disability is ridiculously long and drawn out. They really do not want to help anybody. 

It is difficult not to get discouraged. Every day I hope that maybe today someone will buy one of my books. But no-one ever does. I'd say I don't know why I bother, but I do. Its because I don't know how to do anything else and I don't like to do anything else. I know, you should do it for yourself and not the money, and I do, but sometimes it sucks when you know that you are just spinning your wheels like a goddamn zombie hamster that's too stupid to realize it's dead.

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The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)



Creative Commons License

This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Monday, April 20, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 20 + April PAD Challenge Day 20: A Gift Wrapped in Horror

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

could it be a gift
exposing social failings
in isolation
not everyone has to work
in external location

~sly has spoken~

image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com



NaPoWriMo Day 20: Write a poem about a gift

April PAD Challenge: Write an isolation poem

notes
I have felt for years that certain jobs could be done remotely. This would both reduce the amount of traffic on the road, resulting in reduced pollution and reduced stress levels, and would allow more disabled people the opportunity to work. I would like to think that maybe some companies will see the proverbial light and continue to have certain jobs be done remotely. I won't hold my breath, because experience says that people are stupid, apathetic, lazy, and generally evil, and I don't trust them to do the right thing.

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