Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Midriff Malaise

The skin is different now
softer, lacking youthful carelessness
more hillocks, less firm flesh
yet it is hers, she owns it.

There are the dark days,
when she feels betrayed
her stomach, lying there
as if a flaccid wound.

But then, it shifts
and the soft skin
feels comforting and full,
a pillow for a lover's head.

Metallic pants that thrust
her lushness upward
like a muffin top
do not tempt her.

She is not young
or old, quite yet
hers, not a life bound
nor wasted on midriff malaise.

Poem by JCK

Photo Credit: Woman in waves painting courtesy of Google Images

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  1. Did you pen this poem, Jen?

    I'd read more poetry if more were this good!

  2. "Midriff Malaise"! I love it. And I love this poem.

  3. Just have a big ol' jellyfish creep out of the sea and plop on her abdomen and it would be me!

  4. Thank you!
    It is a daily battle for me - the midriff malaise - what pants can I wear that won't give me a muffin top and what top can I wear to disguise the inevitable belly roll? I am beginning to surrender/embrace my no longer skinny self, I figure now that I know and acknowledge so many parts of me; my body needs room for them all to live - hence my middle age spread. It suits me as a theory anyway :)

    Thank you once again for some lovely words.

    Boliath xx

  5. This is the perfect poetic description of my relationship with my midriff.

    Although, I must admit the 4th stanza made me laugh out loud. :D

    Metallic pants do not tempt me, either, J.

    - Julia at Midwest Moms

  6. I haven't been here enough lately...this is why I've missed this place, and you.

  7. This is beautiful. and ditto what Jennifer H said

  8. How did you just get in my brain and then write about my midriff feelings?


  9. Wonderful! (applauding over here!)

  10. Oh I can relate to this one. *sigh* Too much. . . yet at the same time maybe I can't because I don't feel so happy about it sometimes....or hopeful at all.


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