My husband's poetry

Category: childhood

  • Mama, Sing me a lullaby

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    4 am alpha wave music 432hz try to heal broken parts sleep can’t fix 6 am blueberries with oat meal and ground flax, try to flush the crap I need to let go 8 am walk in the park morning prayers try to create a quiet space outside of time 10 am go to the…

  • Last night

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Last night I dreamed a dream I did not want to dream ___ I dreamed family and friends were mean and petty to me no matter where I fled they followed and ridiculed me for seeking solitude ___ I woke up angry at my dreaming self for dreaming mean and petty dreams of others and…

  • Reedy’s mirror

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    coffee with a friend Moon River rhymes with Spoon River free verse anthology about dead people restless adolescents weren’t ready are we ready now? tobacco jaundiced time portal walks by on stranger’s finger tips you couldn’t or wouldn’t sit quiet so dad held twitchy hands tight in pew two lifetimes later – right hand holds…

  • childhood trauma

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    because my stuttering and speech impediment caused laughter in the classroom the fear of being laughed at is real and I never learned to dance but inside, I dance and swirl and everyone wants to be my partner 9-29-24

  • an old friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    All night I dreamed of an old friend who lived across the back yard fence and moved away in ’65’ we talked of old times and how we landed in our now we talked about his sister, mother and father we talked of how home is no longer home he talked of going to the…

  • Foam bubbles

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    the smirking yuppy mural on the wall reaffirms your feelings of inadequacy to the tasks life has set before you and never changes its expression you wish you could sit one more time at your parents’ kitchen table let mom tell you how important it is to lose ten pounds, again listen to stories of…

  • Indiana Winter Sundays on Greenbush Street

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    (09/08 – 1950’s memory poems) Under a doily covered table with a lamp, two African violets, and a half-filled ashtray; among claw-footed legs lay an out-of-round coconut, its outer husk intact, a large yellow conch shell with pink inner lips, Florida souvenirs from my aunt. Grandad said hold it to your ear, listen to the…

  • The partisan

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    mother used to send me to dig dandelions from our neighbor’s lawn with a meat fork no amount of pleading would convince her seeds could parachute in from several yards away I would collect fluffy seed balls from the school yard help them infiltrate the airspace above our lawn forestall and frustrate her battle plans…

  • neurodivergence

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    by

    cfblack
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    For those of you (like me), who grew up before they did the proper testing, who realized late in life you were neurodivergent You learned survival skills escaping solitary confinement again and again and again. The scars never really heal. Often you wake with blood on the sheets of your dreams, catch your breath running…

  • preschool

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    barefoot in wild violets and clover blossoms little brown bees make more than honey learning Murphy’s Law before I could read Momma pulled the stinger out 3-21-24