Rikki Woods_writing

Rikki Woods

Rikki Woods has been an author for as long as she could write, and wrote her first full-length play in the third grade.

Rikki loved learning but hated the structure of school. She spent most of her days figuring out how to not attend and instead write poetry, create art and play music, yet maintain good grades.

After spending many years in the business world, she found her way back to the creative universe and has since published a number of poetic works and short stories. She is currently working on her first novel.

Incubus

Today I recalled morning’s awful delight

Yesterday was dimmer than tomorrow’s sun

That shone through blinds blocking mirrored midnight

Dark memories boxed never to be undone

I used to wake with thorns in my eyes so deep

Entrenched and instead midnight prayers of red moons

Mis-stepped between willows’ tears that do so weep

Replaced the stardust, Sunday’s robins’ song swoons

When did the dream songs become heat of nightmares

In tears of yesterday blood red demon screams

Leaving a trail of sanguine ponds of despair

With hideous laughter a haunting plan schemes

The Incubus I couldn’t fight or transgress

Now it’s his venom that I cannot suppress

The Domination


Eleven years

I prepared for this confrontation

Tonight I caught your eye and held the gaze

(Your heart raced with excitement)


A brilliant smile

(Painted on my lips)

We talked and laughed

My nails grew to claws and teeth to fangs

Blindly, your hand touched mine

Repeatedly


You marveled at how I remembered

Your phone number and birthday

(You took the bait so well)

You were much easier prey than expected

I kept remembering how

I dared not choke on

Your sour, rabid breath

While you stole what was not yours

The blue fingerprints faded but

The scars took years to heal


I remembered everything about you

Your face gleamed with pride

My blood boiled and rage stirred but

I dared not allow them to spill forth onto

Your well-inflated ego

With beauty and grace

(Reminiscent of the innocence you devoured those eleven years ago)

I trampled your every word and

Spat on your romantic overtures

Tonight, you belonged to me

Airplane Farts


Airplane farts really suck

In forced air they get stuck

And stick around the entire trip

Why oh why did one someone rip

Then the ping pong game begins

You know the one where no one wins

Blow the fart to another row

Continue this horrid tale of woe


You always know who has the flatus

As they move it along with that air apparatus

Twenty rows up you hear "someone farted"

Everyone's pissed off at the one it departed

Two hours later it's still charting a course

And it's still strong enough to choke a horse

You laugh to yourself as you deny it

Smiling, you know it was you who supplied it

It brings you some kind of convoluted pride

Even though it smells like inside of you something died

You promise yourself though, it's only right

You won't eat the triple bean burrito before the next flight

Public Restrooms

Part I, Toilet Paper Dilemmas


In public stalls rolls are gigantic

I understand why, can't argue semantic

Still there's not a thing about them I find romantic

For when I see them I get a little bit frantic


The first attempt I get only one piece

I look around for the Toilet Paper Police

I try again, my yield to increase

This time with a little more elbow grease


Why do they put it so far away

Is there something they're trying to convey

Some hidden meaning in this bathroom soiree

As I twist and contort with it all on display


This time it rolls and it rolls and I can't cut it loose

Wish I could wave a flag and call a truce

Why is it I feel so obtuse

When all I want is to clean my caboose


Now it's dirty, it touched the wet tile

I'm starting to feel kind of hostile

I shouldn't have to be so versatile

Or leave here feeling so defiled

Oh great that was the last sheet on the roll

Isn’t the Toilet Paper Police on patrol?

Into my head I want to put a bullet hole

I take a breath and exercise some self-control


I look under the wall to my left and my right

Looking for feet, a beacon of light

But it’s so very late, quarter past midnight

And there’s not a single soul in sight

To hell with it I say and grab my purse

Digging out tissues as aloud I curse

Nothing fancy, I’m really quite terse

Even though I know it could be worse

Why is this chamber of tortures called a room of rest

When I leave it feeling so very stressed

Even when I realize from Zen I’ve digressed

And recognize I’ve become too obsessed


I now leave in search of sanitation

Full of anger and way too much frustration

This would have turned out better with constipation

Instead of this horrendous misrepresentation


Part II, In Search of Sanitation


At last we met, not so long ago, I was seeking sanitation

After having an experience here with too much animation

Feeling like I’m being left in a state of aberration

I’m really despising so very much, this rest room destination

Now I stand before the mirror and sink with vanities

Thinking this experience is full of too many insanities

I then place my purse in a puddle and blurt profanities

And realize my blouse is soaked, like I went swimming with manatees

I put my hands below the faucet, it’s supposed to detect motion

Of course the water doesn’t start, what would give you that absurd notion?

I do a little dance in hopes gesticulation will cause commotion

When suddenly water blasts me and I’m drowning in the ocean

I give up trying to do this right and seek to dry my hands and face

No paper towels anywhere, just that air blasting thing from outer space

The stupid thing’s above my head, water’s up my arm to my disgrace

I envision inside my purse, thinking, do I have a lighter to torch this place?


The air blasting thing’s burning my hands, I think I’ve had enough

Never realized before, to use this place, you have to be so tough

I thought I could handle this task, I’m finding I’m really a cream puff

A public bathroom taking me down, I’m really not hot stuff


End up taking paper from inside a stall, this action’s overdue

It breaks and tears as I pull it, as if this is something new

It sticks to my hands and fingers, as I bid this place adieu

I take a final look around and leave, trailing toilet paper from my shoe

I’m Not Mad at You Anymore

Those hallways housed heartbreak

Every corner and window stained by

Widowed ghosts weeping with loss

His face had a line for every one of those lives

Kind his voice, yet echoed my head long after he left

Quintuplet bypass - open heart surgery


The news rocked our 44 year old world

A world filled with laugher, love and health

Yet, afraid was I that shock would kill us both

Consolation escaped me

No words fell from these trembling lips

That only wanted to kiss yours forever

So many thoughts filled my head

Soul screamed thinking to our four-year old

I might have to explain how he lost his hero


As zombies we walked through passing days

Planning for care, planning for death

Torturous tears - a conversation we thought might be our last

I paced and paced those grueling hours

Families consoled in a room of forced animation

I stared at the lights as if wishing on stars


My Hercules, you looked so fragile and frightened

Images of tubes and sounds haunt me still

Helpless, so helpless but alive with terrified eyes

Through sedation and anesthesia

Showed me you were ok with a gesture

Left me laughing and loving who you are

Days and months followed

Like a mother fearing her baby’s crib death

I checked on you incessantly

It’s now been two years

Those magnificent scars remind us

Life is beautiful – so short and so beautiful

We could have fill our lives with meaningless stupidity

Instead, never again a goodnight without kisses

And…forever, I’m not mad at you anymore