You. Me. Her.


You. Me. Her.

In couple’s
we pretend to talk
of how you/me

As if we were
a couple–
As if she were unrelated
to this relationship.

She, who is so hip,
me, who is simply
hippy, hippier
(not to be confused with hippie, hippie-ier–
anything connected to
free spirits or
free love,
which right now means

At night, when we pretend to be silent,
she slips between us, pushing away
those simply-spread hips of mine,
those your-child-bearing hips,
something important rips–


A poem of sorts to link up to Mama Zen’s “Words Count” prompt on With Real Toads to write about something inspired by the rule of three, in 90 words or less. NOTE–not autobiographical or related to my current status in any way!

Explore posts in the same categories: poetry

Tags: , , , , ,

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.

20 Comments on “You. Me. Her.”

  1. Jim Says:

    I think ‘Her’ is a trouble maker. Just as the ‘Him’ in a relationship I once was in. What you gonna do?

  2. grapeling Says:

    for not being autobiographical you sure know how to write betrayal, k ~

  3. Kerry O'Connor Says:

    I perceive the first task of a poet is to speak for the contemporary audience about social issues that affect so many, which is why I never read poetry as autobiographical. This piece hits the subject of infidelity exactly where it hurts the most. The voice is compelling and authentic.

    • ManicDdaily Says:

      Thanks, Kerry. I just looked back at it in the context of your comment and felt that I had verb tense wrong of “mean” in second to last stanza– I think it connects to anything and not free spirits– ha! It is amazing how the English language trips one up.

      Aside from that diversionary note, I appreciate as always your kind and thoughtful comment. I find the automatic identification of poetry– particular blog poetry– with particular circumstance to be so constricting. Everyone’s work is colored by his or her life– but it isn’t a mirror of life and it can feel difficult to expand if one feels it is viewed that way. Anyway– thanks. Loved your raptors! K.


  4. Ah, those hips are so effective… and “something important rips”

  5. brian miller Says:

    ugh. not a good place to be in….between two others when you were one of the two just the other day…and how long have you lived in that illusion…betrayal sucks

  6. Mama Zen Says:

    Reading this as a woman of certain age, this is brutal. Well done.

  7. Helen Says:

    Karin, this poem overwhelms .. an oft-repeated scenario I suspect .. she/her/you/me.

  8. Susan Says:

    Ow! Word play of Hip/hips does so much work in this poem, like someone trying to be clever rather than broken, by
    but the RIP happens just the same. How could it not? Brilliant poem.

  9. “Something important rips” says it all – that kind of tear cant really be fully mended. I also loved the “your-child-bearing hips.” Good reminder to the doofus in the poem.

  10. hedgewitch Says:

    There are so many kinds of betrayals in life–this is one of the ones that hurts the worst. I applaud you for writing outside your own box–it’s always assumed, so *much* is assumed– in blog poetry that every word is someone’s personal experience. People often try to make poems be about a certain thing or person, too–even when one is being general and talking about the way things just are (or can be.) Lots of impact and the hip-ness is very central, well-used.

    • ManicDdaily Says:

      I probably have protested too much. Of course, I have some experience of such things! So, the poem is not truly out of my box, as you say so articulately. But it is not directly effective of me or current experience. I was worried about getting all these types of condolence comments!

      It is very limiting! Thanks. k.

      On Thu, Jun 19, 2014 at 3:19 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:


  11. It’s a very honest poem, even if it’s not based on a real-life situation. Beautiful. Thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  12. Such disappointment… sad.

  13. margaret Says:

    …those child bearing hips – So much is often given and thrown away when someone else slips between – this is powerful. I like it when poetry reaches beyond a person and explores things outside of their immediate circle. This speaks for many women, I’m sure.

  14. Ella Says:

    I love the reference to color and not reflection. I think many of us are always trying to read between the lines. I too like the beyond and how you achieved the tangle of betrayal and its existence on many levels.

  15. Brendan Says:

    You dove deeply into the wound(ing) here, exactly perhaps where it rips — I got the second birth of a child, into puberty perhaps, when she tears down mother to stand on her own. Make me recall the awful battle royales fought between my first wife and her daughter while our marriage was falling apart. Ye-owch. Loved in a loathly way the breech described as two motherly hips sundered.

  16. claudia Says:

    oh i’m glad it is not autobiographical – such a situation is beyond painful

I'd love to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: