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Speaking in Typos PixieVic is The Sunday Morning Poet

Speaking in Typos

PixieVic is The Sunday Morning Poet

by Pixievic,
first published: June, 2023

approximate reading time: minutes

The Sunday Morning Poem - helping you to forget about Monday, every week.

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This week's Sunday Morning Poet is PixieVic, an artist of unflinching and disarming honesty and one of our literary heroines (if we are allowed to use that word). Words, words, words. Deborah Alma aka The Emergency Poet said, "PixieVic's poems are suffused with honesty, bravery, warmth and colour. They are poems from a woman who has come through some stuff, still wears the scars, but is alive and kicking!" Here in Speaking in Typos is a woman alive and kicking but sometimes not finding quite the right words to say so. I am so constantly exhausted and this is so relatable, if you haven't been here yet, you're going there. 



Getting older as a woman
Is an interesting adventure 
And without a comprehensive guidebook 
It is open to conjecture … 
So as is my way, I intend 
To share my own experience
To chaperone you tender things
Into a world, that is mysterious … 

I am aging philosophically 
As my boobs succumb to gravity 
My hair is thin, bar on my chin 
Where I now sport a stylish goatee!  
I cant remember anything 
My mind has turned to mush  
A foggy brain, is no ones gain 
But Ill warm you up with my hot flush!

The thing that causes most distress 
Are the words that used to flow  
They vanish as quickly as they form
And I now speak in typos …  

Imagine if you will, a simple 
Conversation starter 
I like a continental breakfast …” my friend remarks,
And looks at me to answer …
My brain attempts to find the words 
Calmly searching the blackhole
I reply in earnest “ Oh yeah me too
I love a breakfast casserole …”
Croissant was the elusive word 
Just in case youre wondering 
But this is just one example 
Of my persistent fumbling  

Theres the garden hoover, a camping teapot 
That whatsit thing thats green 
The before thing thats not the thing before 
That place where whatshisface has been .. 
A flappy thing that lives in trees …
Yes that one was a bird 
And when I want to say ceramic 
Its cardboard that is heard … 
Im getting very good at actions 
As an attempt to help my brain 
You know the thing, that goes up & down … 
When youre standing in the rain …”
Umbrella that one was 

You see its not at all selective 
My conversation partners 
Now need to be shrewd detectives  
My wittering takes so long sometimes
That I eventually just give up 
And ask for a goblet of coffee 
Grateful when Im handed a just cup 

Its undeniably frustrating 
Although amusing I admit 
I pine for those long lost days 
When I conversed with style & wit
I assume one day,  I will return 
To a language more customary
But until that time 
I beg you all 
To not leave home 
Without your Victionary!

© PixieVic


Pixievic is a commanding performer who draws you into her physical stillness with not much more than the mesmeric quality of her velvety voice and an occasional raised eyebrow. Vicki writes of human experience that is instantly recognisable and although much of her work is personal, intimate even, it speaks to us all.
about Pixievic »»

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