The stream (all workshops)
Salmon pink chewed gum stuck to pvc floors
stuck to timeworn seats and graphite sprayed,
sprayed by an undeveloped child. But unlike
that pallid gum he was free. And just like that
spritz it will be washed away a new memory
a freedom moving forward and not backwards.
The water vapour and finger print hazey windows
and an odour of diesel a hiss of a deadly rattle snake
and a screech caused by slipping wheels is a sound of
travel and wonder
my mother tells me she wants to put a blanket over me,
and feed me soup,
and tuck me into bed every night.
I tell her i don’t need these things anymore-
that i’m an adult, i’ve outgrown being cared for.
But i understand her urge.
Part of me wants to take you by the waist and hold you tightly to my chest.
Part of me wants you to beg that I never let go,
to cry out that you “need” me,
that it’s “not the same” without me.
Each day.
waking up to her life.
The terrible dreams
Would claim
Most of the night
The act of bravery
Are the tears in her eye
Refusing to believe
That her illness
Is more than
The terrible dreams
She lives with every single night
The act of bravery
Is how she survives.
Taking one day at a time
She is Learning
That a dream isn't the life she will find
bravery who am I to saying that I know what bravery is
Even though I'm stronger than more people then I know
bravery to me it's a stand up and accept what it is to be free
even though I tend to find myself looking below
mainly because I'm still learning how to grow
no more of a s*** show but look out cuz I'm ready to blow
I never really understood what it meant to have full bravery until I learned about the famous James Avery
I found a loose shoestring
in the bottom of the sewing basket -
white, a bit frayed, but useful for
another job of some sort.
The other string is gone,
as are the shoes, but so...
there it is.
***
There are three apple trees
living together behind her barn.
They produce enough fruit for
endless pies, sauces, and jellies
to dress Christmas baskets and pantries.
Many are committed to the ground, ripened
and fermented for the bees and
creatures passing by, but so...
there they are.
***
M is like an M. She fall, She stands, She fights.
M is like an apple, sour and sweet.
M is the person of taste, and good fashion.
M is like an M.
Jacob is like a whirlpool, always dark. And twisted.
Her parents are divided.
She hates him.
He loves him.
He thinks, that Jacob will love M just like He should.
She thinks, that She is too good, for his twisted mood.
While M is quiet.
Jacob is on the stage.
Fans around him everywhere.
Jacob is quiet.
"Sic semper evello mortem tyrannis"
translation = thus always I
bring death to tyrants.”
Brussel sprouts, spinach
Promise of their vile flavor
My childhood poison
On the phone she tells me
she looks forward to the rain.
She mentions that she forgot her umbrella
again, but she’ll be okay without it.
And would I be kind enough to bring in her book
left outside on the table. Fretting in jest
that the author may not forgive if I don’t hurry,
and refuse her the denouement she hopes for.
I wonder, once more, if it’s forgetfulness.
Does she worry I’ll think she’s foolish or laughable
because she’s neglected to bring an umbrella again?
there is a full moon out tonight,
it is a dreamer's moon pale and white.
still early nightfall, bags are packed
awaiting planned passage on a train.
Got my train ticket in my hand
Anticipation at the station
Conductor smiles and punches it
She points me to my seat, off I go.
A window seat is mine, what rapture
Turning off "my" light, I can see out
Harp to mouth, blowing sweetest notes
a call for "Me And Bobby McGee"
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