The pages of this lifebound by aging leathergilded letters cracked intended meaninglong forgotten No images adornthe weathered facethe colour faded shade of auburnlike my haironce upon a time Spine still sturdythreads frayingcorners curling –indicators ofa life well read. (Written for Reena’s Xploration challenge #176. Image my own.)
To chronicle a lifeto extract truthseparate skin from soulin search of essence I try to listento the rhythmsdiagram a blueprint am discombobulated. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Travel East in search of self Half family extends unexpected warmth Is my identity here with stranger-brothers? I contemplate pausing surrendering to other But this is sleep-walking the distance still remains Journey has no end till soul has purpose and wisdom relieves the wounded child. (Submitted for Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt:identity. Image shows an old […]
Remember that time wading to the caves St Martin’s summer How the tide rushed in Atlantic pulling us apart my body weak with laughter How you shouted, coaxed – once ashore we collapsed wet but warm, hearts flooded. (My brother and I weren’t raised together, as his father abducted him at age 10. Reunited years […]
A milk jug, handle turned in, was all it took for father to lather, a barrage of curses decrying our lack of worth, foaming from his mouth – spittle that remains lodged in our psyche – drug resistant venom. (Tuesdays poems come from Twitter. Follow me at @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Formative years were more destruct than construct; contradictions riddled the foundation of our familial structure: one man tyrannized five females while in the news, women marched for equality; called the likes of him a male chauvinist. Aunt drove a forklift truck, looked like a man, chalked one up for women’s liberation, didn’t talk about her […]
Thank you to the Story Circle Network for accepting my story: Hoping to Be Missed. I am excited to report that I won first place in the Reflections Personal Essay Contest 2018. To read the story and find out more about the Story Circle Network, click here.
School days meant up-before-dawn, carpools across town, tuna-sandwiches and rotting bananas shoved in brown paper sacks. Then home by bus – exhaust, the stench of old men, stale lunchbags, gym shoes and pre-adolescent sweat. Four blocks to home by foot, the locals taunting, the inevitable tussle – blood mixing with moldy leaves and mud. I’d […]
The house is brand new and we move in without our mother, who is in the hospital getting our new baby. There are three floors of living space, but I am most interested in the room in the basement – the one that no one else knows exists (except my dad, of course, ’cause he […]