Mindless ramblings of madness

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Touch

I don't express emotions well
communication
face to face
a jumble of equivocation and avoidance of the
simple things
touch
is all i know
i see you and words divide
no way for me to say...
me
i fumble
waiting
some way to
feel safe
too many words in the way
when touch
can say so much of me

Saturday, September 02, 2006

GOD RHYTHM

Splish splosh

God rhythm

Ma say

"Don't go out to catch your death!"

Foolishness!

Bare feet and

Raindrop meet

Made for each other, and

Seven year old me

Love to

Run.

Puddle stomp,

Run, and jump, and

Wiggle toes, and

Mom

Runs scared

Behind me,

Huddled under 'brella

Screaming,

"Yssa!"

"Get inside!"

Sometimes

When she catch me I

Sit on

Stoop with

Blanket and

Cards and

Listen.

Splish splosh,

God rhythm.

Post Adolescent Reverie Through the Looking Glass

Lewis Carol

Knew,
To a degree
Alice,
But being a
Man,
He could not quite
Comprehend
His illness.
Beware!
Beware!
For daft all
Those young swine
Grow to be.
You won't find
Virtue
When you chase
Pretty white hares,
In tops and tails,
Down peculiar holes,
But little notes saying,
"EAT ME."

"Off with their heads!"
"Off with their heads!"
(Above and below)
The queen knows
All too well.
She's done
What you
Think
To try.
Take heed,
The queen of
Broken hearts!
All her precious white roses
Painted red,
Bloodstained
So she,
In her dying youth
Can watch them bloom,
To see,
In their buds,
The pretty white hare
That slipped through her fingers
Too.

So wake up!
Dream no more
Of cats
That leave only
A smile
When they disappear,
Or tasting mushrooms
Offered by
Worms
Sipping opium.
You'll only find you've grown
Too much,
Too fast,
In a house
Too small,
While the hare
Hops off
To dine
Elsewhere.
Not a thing
Mother
Would approve.

MONSTERS

Must keep the smile face on.

Must S.O.S.

tap tap tap

tap...tap...tap...

tap tap tap

Under table top alone.

Must never say

What was done here.

Must rise

Must dress

Find surface beauty

Gain wealth

All things fine here.

Not the death of self

Seen in mirror

There.

Must learn in

Seven generation.

Must teach the law to

Children of

tap tap tap

Must not disturb

Lineage of monsters born

From this womb.

Mama

Mamma's fallin' apart, little bits and pieces in test tube jars spread out in a row across God's time line.

Mom's lived a lifetime in hospital beds, bits of her female identity sawed off, used for study purposes by sterile faced doctors, replaced by prosthesis, and she smiles.

She had 3 babies she says.

She's lived a lifetime.

Mamma's fallin' apart.

A bit here, a bit there, till nothin' and she's part mechanical.

Started losing her hair a few months ago, and before that her womb.

No more babies now, but she got all she wanted and aren't we somethin'!

Mamma says all she ever wanted was this, all she ever wanted was us, all she ever wanted was my fathers love, and somethin' in me says I should scream at all her could have beens, but isn't that the thing.

Mamma taught me how to love.

Mamma taught me how to be.

Mamma made sure I knew how to be free, and not from wanting for herself, proud, strong, woman that she is, she had everything.

Mamma made herself 3 independent little girls that grew up to take on the world.

She rejoiced in creation.

This was her life's dream.

Once her work was done here her only desire was to see the world she gave her gift to, and...

Mamma's fallin' apart.

It's not enough she lived to be a woman, and had no shame in her simple aspirations.

We can call it a generational brainwashing, women staying barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, but she came from a single mother home, raised by one tough bull of a woman that no matter what anyone told her she was gonna do her thing, and raise her children on her own.