Meditation: Imagine a Blank Wall, by Sondra Hull
Meditation: Imagine a Blank Wall
by Sondra Hull
Chocolate is dripping off my body. Nasty old chocolate.
I drip and drip.
I am happy. I am happy to see it melt off me.
The chocolate is dark and it drips away.
It drips mounds onto the floor.
Ten pounds, maybe.
No. Ten pounds would be too much.
Three pounds have dripped.
It makes me very happy. So happy.
I drip chocolate. Dark sweet chocolate.
My mouth is catching the chocolate
Damn it! Okay. It’s okay when that happens.
Just start over.
Relax. Breathe. Visualize.
Chocolate is dripping off my body.
Two men with parrot hats.
No! Just concentrate. Relax.
Okay. Breathe. Deep breath.
Oops, my ankle itches.
Just ignore it.
Oh well, might as well scratch it, then start over.
Green leaf floating by.
Chocolate is oozing off me. I am happy.
More than happy. I am ecstatic.
Red apple. Snow White.
All right, this isn’t working.
Change the image. Let’s see. Okay.
Deep cleansing breath.
Relax your toes, your ankles, your legs, buttocks,
your arms, your neck and face.
You are very peaceful. Very relaxed.
My body is silly putty. A future masterpiece.
Artists are pinching off bits
to mold my perfect body.
Children make small clay farm animals
with the excess putty.
I am happy.
Oh, that’s stupid. What a stupid image.
I am a fudgesicle.
A mouth is pulling all the fat away.
The fat flies away.
It feels soft and good as the mouth pulls
all the fat away.
It pulls the fat away and spits it into the universe.
I am happy. I am very happy
as the mouth pulls the fat away.
Edmund was the best sex
I ever had.
He really knew what he was doing.
Had a great mustache. Soft.
He could really manipulate that mustache.
Wonder where is now.
Could look for him on the internet.
He’s not married. We meet
and he is still in love with me.
His eyes devour me.
My wedding dress is blue and purple. Ethereal.
His hands are all over me.
He takes down the straps of my dress and kisses my…
I am a fudgesicle with the fat being sucked out of me!
Oh God. How much time is left?
I’ll just open my eyes and peek at the clock.
No, better not. Might break my meditation.
Those coyotes in the news. That was really strange.
Just breathe. Very relaxed.
Go deeper and deeper.
Align with the universe. Imagine a blank wall.
I am a pink balloon…
About the author
Sondra is a seventy seven year old mother of three children “old ones” and grandma to four gorgeous grandkids. They are all lively and fun and keep her young. Besides family, writing poetry and short stories has been one of the most fulfilling, rewarding, confidence building, facets in her life, as well as a good excuse for prolonged sitting around avoiding exercise. She is constantly surprised to see how the carrying-on that manifests in her head can splat onto a page and she can blithely think “hmm, I’ll call this a poem.”
Being thankful for all the years of sharing, enjoying, and feeling the hearts of so many beautiful talents on WF has been an unimaginable privilege for her.
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