art · childhood · Family · poetry · psychology · relationships · writing

Still Digging

Father, as immoveable
as a mountain
taught us to orchestrate
submontane routes

Circumnavigating
his rocky moods
bestowed upon us
a fear of masculinity

Resilience instilled
the necessity of mining
gold from darkness:
still digging.

(Sketch mine)

abuse · art · childhood · Love · poetry · writing

Love Lessons

Had a weird sort of lexicon
the man who professed
to be my dad –

Clamped in his chokehold
he’d demand words of devotion

Became inured to this dichotomy –
spent a lifetime searching for love –

Just the right balance of cruelty and kind.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.  Sketch mine.)

childhood · culture · poetry · writing

A Convertible Summer

Summer of ’67
British invasion
Canada claiming 100 –
Dad arrives home
in a powder puff
blue convertible.

Back seat sisters
long hair flapping
bellowing along
with 8-track tunes:
Loving Spoonful
“Do you believe in magic?”

I, barely nine
idolizing a sister
sixteen – a model
with go-go boots
and hippie style

Cottaged at Sauble
muscle cars prowling
oiled bodies lounging
and all eyes lit
on sister, and I
wondering at the draw
made castles in the sand.

Surfing the waves
avoiding the baby
whose brash cries
and quick, chubby legs
keep Mom distracted,
I am observer of the life
Neil Diamond is promising:
“Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”

Ah, to be 9, in summertime
few the cares, and ideas
like popcorn, burst and pop,
forgotten in each watery plunge
still content to be a child.

(A Convertible Summer first appeared here in June of 2018.  I submit this edited version for Eugi’s Causerie Weekly challenge:  summer.  Image my own.)

 

 

childhood · dreams · life · recovery · writing

Childhood Home

The place remains in my dreams
like a movie set preserved…

Have assigned each room
a critique – disclosed the crimes

Yet, it remains, like a beacon
draws me to it, begs reflection

What if I could go back
now that I can breathe

Now that I’ve laid claim to maturity
would I discover a sudden windfall

makeover conditioned motifs
reevaluate ceiling heights

with resources to remodel
heart open, connected

might I uncover abundance
like a personal embrace.

(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge: featured image.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Family · Love · memoir · poetry · writing

Sibling Camaraderie

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 later, I treasure the moments we get to spend together, even though they are few and far between.  Image my own.)

 

abuse · poetry · writing

Inside, I Scream

(Warning:  trigger)

It wasn’t for want of terror –
inexplicable horror
caused me to quake

There was no one to hear –
a remote lair, boarded
ensured the perfect crime

Even in the aftermath –
self erased, movement
adrenalin automaton

Even then, no sound,
voice stifled by guilt
certainty blame was mine

Art of dissociation
keeps me now, surface
calm – shame numbed

The scream a silent
reverberation
tearing at my soul.

(For Ragtag Community’s daily prompt:  scream.)