“Brazen’s a hussy!”
heard herself say,
as bullies circled on
playground that day
“You’re a sissy!”
the sass came back,
launched herself –
a full-on attack
Pinned the biggest
to gritty concrete floor
“You’re weird!” cried the cowards
who bothered her no more.
(Originally written for Twitter. Image my own)
Mother followed all the trends –
Scarsdale and grapefruit diets,
minis and maxis,
platforms and pumps –
reaching for an ideal
my child’s mind
could not comprehend
Father dreamt of a voice makeover
had flown his ancestral roots
in search of…what?
I did not know
I learned that men
were to be pleased,
and compassion
was a woman’s role
and it was folly to hazard
confrontation when alcohol
was in the mix,
Intangible as life was
I deduced that secrets –
the avoidance of scandal –
rendered women ineffective
and by the very circumstance
of my birth, I was tainted,
weighted by shame
destined to endure
pain as love
invested in
my worthlessness
Except life is evolution
and rage emerges
from oppression
and conviction
smashes the impotence
of ideals, embraces
the abstracts
of fluidities,
and merging out of shame
I see that struggle
is opportunity
and that rewriting legacies
is an honourable goal
and I do have power
in any given moment…
only wish
I had known it
sooner.
(Art my own)
Biting, the sun’s brilliance,
nestled in a cornflower blue sky –
competition for mustard gold,
tangerine orange, and chartreuse –
leaves shimmering this Autumn morn
The vividness of colours too sharp
for just awakened eyes – begs retreat.
I contemplate this vision, think:
life is like this –
too beautiful, at times for words;
glorious perfection.
In a blink, the sky changes
white clouds forming a backdrop,
Autumn wind tossing the tree about,
branches dipping, pull apart,
and the harmony of the last moment
is gone, and I think:
Life is like this –
turning without notice,
what once was balance, suddenly lost,
and we are left spinning.
I can hear it now – wind rushing
against the windowpane, taunting:
Change! Change is coming!
I know what it speaks is true, for
life is like this: ever fluctuating, and
the reminder is bittersweet,
my heart, reluctant to let go of Summer
knows it’s okay: it’s just the way of life.
(A rewrite of a rewrite. Image my own)
A window opened
I climbed through
forgetting…
October’s window
filled with promise,
just beyond the pane
Denial is a weasel
leads me towards
the edge…
Those madmen thoughts:
ambition, self-importance –
life has humbled me,
yet again…
(Poem first appeared on Twitter. Art my own)
Remember how we fought
at four and five –
over whose turn it was
to push the baby buggy?
Your Campbell soup baby face
locks curlier than mine;
eyes a brighter sparkle
How you withdrew from me with age
ashamed your mother was an alcoholic –
I did not care, carried my own secrets
How you chose drugs to cope,
while I went straight – the line
too wide to cross, it seemed.
You were my roots, dear friend
the rock I needed to ground me
Life, back then, never easy
Secrets tore us apart – projections
of judgments never actualized
somehow, I never measured up
I see you now, shrouded in the mist
of my own grief, understand that your turmoil
ran deeper than I had known, and one day
when we meet in Heaven,
I will embrace the whole you
and we will laugh at how secrets
whose very disclosure would have solidified us
kept us more and more distant – so little
did we know of love at the time.
(Lorraine died at the age of 26 – complications from drug use. After her death, I learned that she was a lesbian, a secret that she thought she could not share with me at the time. She had not known that I would not have judged her. Sadly, we never had the chance. I loved her so.)
Happenstance welcome,
dreamer that I am
Loyal to memories
and committed to progress
Professional ambitions unrequited,
I seek new avenues…
Failure a nag
provokes hesitation
Let me be!
I am independent!
This path is unique
and while I dwell
in contemplation of what ifs
I recognize my challenges,
the unreliability of illness,
expect no encores
Easier to focus
on what I can master
today.
(Watercolour mine)
Eventuality
of gravity
is bona fide –
Flesh is not iron
Minds, however,
can strengthen,
if nurtured with
open compassion
Spirits plummet
and revive, buoyant
as the grace that
serves them.
(This I Know first appeared on Twitter. Image my own)
Please forgive the dance,
but it is what I do –
one step forward,
then slide back,
shuffle and lose the rhythm
and start again.
Always reaching forward –
heart securely tucked in place –
but there is something embedded,
cellular – that invites the struggle
and so…I dance –
yesterday a warrior,
today the fool,
tomorrow only knows
multi-faceted,
roughly cut,
a gem
of an undefined hue,
I will always try again.
(Forgive the Dance first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II, September 2019. Image my own)
Connections, like bridges,
run between us –
no matter how subtle –
nations and individuals;
there is no divide
Imagine if we acted
on this knowledge –
mindful and kind –
not subtle the outcome,
I should think.
(Image my own. Imagine Bridges first appeared here September 2019)
Worms have invaded
every sliver of my antagonist
by now, and still I tarry …
Minute details excuses
for hesitation,
the memoir languishes
unpublished
Wanting my audience
to savour each morsel,
declare it fit for consumption
The ironic death march
of a solemn vow
to make light of dark.
(Art my own)
One Woman's Quest 