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Before I knew the words to describe a rainbow, I could mix the colors of heaven, of mountains; of Arizona in the spring. Each morning in darkness before the molten Phoenix sun would crest the parched desert, Papa would sneak out the door quiet as a whisper to paint this house [...] This beautiful photograph is from Vox Poetica - an amazing website for poets and writers. Click on Vox Poetica and you will be transported directly there. Little sister dear, little sister Listen to my stories of Alice and Dorothy Of Ruth and Naomi Countless heroines Women of honor, of grace Of beautiful eyes and wondrous hearts Who [...] She made sponge cake Dough rising Like joy in the afternoon With smells of flour, eggs, sugar Lemons, oranges Apple cake always with cinnamon Honey, raisins, nuts, and vanilla. And luscious potato kugel With onions chopped so fine they were invisible. There was always food for strangers or dogs I would bring home. Travels of a [...] She said she had a cat named Purple… I mentioned cats didn’t come in purple. She replied, “You’ve never seen him sleeping on the roof at sunset!” How does one argue with five year old logic, Eyes that see magic at every turn? “Little Judy,” a creative, forty year old mind inhabiting a little girl’s [...] White blond hair parted on the side Belied the six year old mind Living in a fifty-nine year old body. Ocean eyes glared with anger through the rear window of a Dodge as his house faded into memory.
He touched me… in places I didn’t like or want I knew him, so I let him I was little and scared I couldn’t stop him for I was only three. He touched me… I cried when he came in I cried when he left I learned to hate to carry hurt inside; like a [...] Once… I was witness to a crime. A crime perpetrated by a Mother Upon her children In the name of justice. Feelings… She couldn’t deal with She tossed aside Like laundry thrown in hampers Used, dreary, dingy… Dumped them instead On her children So they could bleed for her. There’s no strength In [...] He is sick now Just like she dictated everyday, And at forty-seven He looks eighty. He tries to care To get by Like the rest of us But schizophrenia gets in his way. Leftover from a childhood He sometimes puts aside. Sometimes… But hardly ever forgets.
And I remember standing In the corner [...] |
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