Category: childhood
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for Marie
Marie lived in the big house she was born in. She had a baby grand in the parlor and cookies in the kitchen. She was my mother’s friend. She was the pianist for the Masonic hall. She told me I had a good voice. There was a picture on her mantle, of a young woman…
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reflection
while night birds softly awaken the sun you try once again to empty the emotion of loss ___ the anger and arrogance anger of caring so much you hate your gift ___ you sing notes in your head you feel the reverberation inside roll off your tongue into the air ___ you caress notes and…
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The Couch
Change your filthy clothes Before you sit on the sofa Don’t put your feet on the couch If you want to sleep go to your bedroom Sit up straight, so three people can sit down Those cushions don’t belong on the floor You two keep your hands to yourself This ain’t no whorehouse When your…
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Spare the rod, Save the child
All night, you keep waking in school wooden paddles on bare skin stomach punches behind closed doors Cold winter hallways laughter in the classroom isolation you still feel They are probably all dead except in your head where they hide and never leave Bastards keep saying you deserve it and you hate yourself for wanting…
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Waking From Dreaming with a Stream of Consciousness Prose Poem Stuck in My Head that I Scribbled Down in the Dark on a Notebook I Keep on a Table by the Bed for Those Nights When I Wake with a Stream of Consciousness Prose Poem Stuck in My Head
Yesterday, I ate the last garlic stuffed olive in the jar and wondered if they make some mixed drink with garlic stuffed olives, but it sounds gross, but I don’t drink alcohol and maybe it would make a great martini and I think back to summers, as a kid and my sisters and I would…
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Muddling
You were not certified to be born to nurse to be a child or an adolescent set adrift in hormonal seas You were not trained to be a friend to love to be a parent or a partner in this thing called life You were not prepared to be quarantined for COVID-19 but somehow we…
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star gazing
As a child I stared up at stars with a book of constellations connected all the dots thought the problem was me Last night I stared up at stars still couldn’t find Orion or his bow and realized ancient newscasters drank too much wine after dark This morning I stared up at stars only saw…
My husband's poetry 