Do I have your attention with that title? Good. Let’s start with a definition, shall we?

Obsession – n.
1. the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.
2. the idea, image, desire, etc. itself.

Or, from a medical dictionary:
Obsession – n.
1. a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling.
2. psychiatry- a persistent idea or impulse that continually forces its way into consciousness, often associated with anxiety and mental illness.

Well that’s just slight variations on a theme.
I wonder what today’s poem could possibly be about?


nails must be uniform length
at all times always always
bite them pick them file
cuticles even straight perfect
pick them pick pick rip

is the door locked
check it know it check be sure

teeth fingers toes legs arms
not matching lengths
where’s the symmetry
no way to fix or file or pick
never never never the same

all scabs peeled stray hairs pulled
pinch twist yank repeat repeat

hands clean hands dirty
got to wash them again
touched some filthy money
gross unclean sickening
got to get it off off off

one two three
one two three
one two three

is the phone on silent
working no sound when working
but have to keep the phone close
just in case just to be sure just to check

what time is it now
thirty-eight seconds since the last

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2011.

Well! Time to go do something that isn’t this for a little bit; something that won’t make me twitch.
Also, for some reason this reminds me of Hanners from QC. AKA Hannelore, AKA is the cutest damn thing ever. Um, if you’ve never read the comic before, I advise against a full archive binge unless you have like… time. Lots of time. Jeph’s on like post 1870+ or something.

DEFEAT AWKWARDNESS WITH MAXIMUM RIDICULOSITY. Top hats an’ pocket watches an’ waistcoats an’ shit.

That’s all, folks!



Filed under Poetry

4 responses to “Obsession

  1. I still bother my cuticles, and it’s always about “evening things out.” Latent OCD. This truly depicts the life of a person whose day is driven by ironing out creases, re-ironing, then driving back home to make sure they unplugged the iron – and finally, checking and re-checking the door as they leave again! It’s not at all funny, but in my family, we have so much crap that we do laugh at our own foibles, just not those of others.

    Here’s a fun one for you, Bee! Love, Amy

    • Oh man, I have been a nail biter since… my earliest memories, I guess.

      I know the feeling. It’s not funny, but we laugh because otherwise we’d have to cry, and we’d much rather laugh. I will be almost asleep, and I’ll sleepily wonder if I locked the front door (despite it being an unconscious action after so many years), and I HAVE to check it. And while I’m at it, I have a smoke out the front, I make sure the back door’s locked, and the garage too… by the time I’m back to bed, I’m fully awake. This may happen two or three times a night, if I’m stressed out, or not at all for weeks. But I have to laugh at it, because I’d rather laugh than cry.

      I loved your Lindy Hop poem! I left a comment earlier 🙂 The video was so energetic! It looks like fun.

  2. Pingback: Passion | beespoetry

  3. Pingback: Grace | beespoetry

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