Monday random: family

  • There was a time I thought I had to get away from my family
  • months and years went by sometimes with only silence
  • forgiveness was a rough lesson to learn
  • There was a time I was so alone I couldn’t bear it, and realized that no matter what, my family would take me in

Continue reading “Monday random: family”

The holidays can be brutal

I.

One day after a couple argues
she, a carving novice
hacking into roast turkey
he
with a cranberry stain
in the middle of his chest

The dining room swirling before her
into a painting by Dali
hearing his voice far away
something about irony. How
he thinks it means something

As her knife falls
and clatters
she says,
‘stop talking’

II.

I am an alien
in your world

I try to add to it
giving you my best

yet

whilst my back is turned
you jam holly
into my heart

2016

I am listening to Dylan and eating the last of my Thanksgiving apple pie
and how I ate too much of it, since he doesn’t help me eat it, ever–
content with the last of the mashed potatoes and gravy, and his Jell-O and Cool Whip. This was not the Thanksgiving from last year, was it? Though I thanked the Lord for many things, there was a sad thread throughout that was difficult to avoid;

but it was not last year’s holiday no matter how you slice it, 2016 with Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for literature, well, that took the cake in mid-October, sliding into the North Side boys winning the pennant while we were on vacation alone for the first time since we met–
and wasn’t that sweet standing in rainshowers of leaves while we remembered why we said yes in 1989;

as if it wasn’t enough–November 2016 came in with a bang, the boys making good on their promises and bets (which I never put money on) came up 7 and 11–in a time in my life I had forgotten what baseball meant to me–then, just days later, watching a new president make history sliding into home in the middle of a sleepless night, we were dreaming about representation in a time of resistance–and wasn’t it sweet sharing something we had previously argued about;

not to say that everything was okie-dokey and worthy of praise, but people can see, no matter if they like the prez, or The Cubs, or even the state of my household, it was a banner year for history, a time we will never forget, regardless of beliefs;

and for my house, where we had not smiled for years, it meant laughs and joy and shared dreams–of what we had wanted, what we didn’t have, and what we still want–and eyes meeting in affirmation under Wisconsin blue skies–that the vows were solid and the names were written in stone, no matter what.

history was made
no matter what the cost
birdsong always

Thank you

eggs.jpg

I woke up joyful that I had slept the night
sans nightmares, sans fear.
I said to myself
that ‘This is the day
that the Lord has made;
we will rejoice and be glad in it’
remembering the salvation of my childhood
the kindness of God in my weariness, and His love
and acceptance during my abandonments, both real
and perceived;

I am grateful for friends that stay, for sunshine that feels like it will never end in the middle of storms;
I am thankful for my children, for their health, and for their patience with me;
I am grateful for my mother, who in hindsight was loving to me all the way through, even when I could only see the failures;

I am thankful for coffee, for chocolate, for paragraphs, and for the Oxford comma;
I am thankful for words that were my friends when I was completely alone, both those in books, and the ones that came to mind that I have put down on paper since I was 9;

I am thankful for paper, ink, pencils, pens, and all the colors of the rainbow, even though I have lived most of my life in black and white.

*only six days late–my Thanksgiving poem

Monday Random–thankful

  • I am glad I did NaNoWriMo this year. I was considering quitting it because I don’t need the impetus to write every day anymore, as I already do that now
  • But I need other things, like interaction. Imput. Inspiratation.
  • There is definitely more there than just a gimmick, or a crutch as some see it
  • But I know it’s not for everyone
  • I got reacquainted with a couple of people from other Nano’s and met a couple of new people I will potentially write with again
  • They have positive attitudes and a spirit of fun that has been very attractive to my grumpy, sometimes pessimistic spirit

Continue reading “Monday Random–thankful”

light ’em up

last winter when the hoarfrost came to visit
when we were celebrating Christmas alone for the first time
without the other birds in the nest, flown to more moderate climes
and oh how the mist rolled in as the temperatures rose and fell, rose and fell, like a cheap whore
not knowing one day to the next which coat to wear
and the monsters that used to dwell under our childrens’ beds
stayed in the light then
cheeky and brazen, breathing on the windows
icing them up until we could not see the yard
chilling the rooms until we knew there was no denying
we would be at war with the forces of darkness
the depressions and over-eating and long listed regrets
taking over the empty space under the Christmas tree
and all our hopes danced on the ceiling, knowing with just a word
they could banish the lot of ’em

After the carnage

We survey the damage
as Tom lies there
in an awkward position
legs splayed
skin overly tanned and greased up

His chest
hacked at like someone
unfamiliar with knives
went at it with
an ice pick and a hatchet

An onion, a head of garlic
and a lemon are stuffed into him
and I take a piece of bread
wiping the last bits
with gravy

We will think of him fondly
when we remember this day
because he was good
oh yes, he was delicious

I took the Christmas tree down

on Holy Thursday, because I promised it would not be there
to look at on Easter morning. Dinner, notwithstanding
the ham and sweet potatoes would resemble our Christmas dinner
our eyes on the lovely tree in all its glory
the ornaments shiny and calling out to us, rejoice-celebrate-

Though now they mock us-drinking a toast to mothers deceased, and
burn the roast and put out the candles, but they have no right
to judge us, those self-serving props of Santa Claus
on that holiest of holy days to look at our slips and slights, and
tell the neighbors, look–their lights are up past epiphany