ALL RESPONSES |
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One can pack months,
even years, into a photo—
the subject, three years old,
frozen to that moment
Much later, she will talk
about birth and pain
because she will age
and look for loneliness;
she will thumb through
her lost years one picture
at a time
But today she reaches
out to her stars in a gesture
that shouts, “Do Not Bend”
Today, today she has breathing
space
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To think nothing of an end
Of cold sleet and flame
Or stink of war
Loneliness, self-doubt and
Hell buried deep
A lifetime to dig
As pets and people pass
Some slowly, some in a flash
Mortality is hard to grasp
What’s here won’t be
It’s much easier to see
Invisible gods for eternity
And love, unseen thread
In daily fabric
Ubiquitous until it unravels
Into conditioned black
And white beauty
But mother will always
Be there with her camera |
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Even the little
sun dancing
on the house window,
a girl
forever.
Even fate, taking its time,
using time to bend
its will. But first,
to be the most favored,
the youngest, with the entire
century in a cake.
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Where are your ancestors hiding?
In the feathers of the yellow bird
Where will I find shape changers magic?
In the fields of hydrangia
Who teaches you to sing?
A little horse that comes from a new forest
Where are your elephant singers
In the waves when the moon is full
And where do you live
In the dayshine of trees
How do you remember me?
As three wishes
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Joy is in hope
is in disappointment
is in death
is in life is in you
are in me are in smiles
are in birthdays are
in marriage
is in birth
is in repentance is in rain
is in sunshine is in
rainbows are
in children are in
mothers tears
are in words are
in appologies are in
love is in rain |
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Yes, I can so eat a whole apple...
see, my mouth opens this wide!!!
And also, my brother eats whole apples
all the time, even on Tuesdays
and that's why I can, too.
And anyways, this is my kitty, Lylah.
Mostly mostly she sleeps
all the time. GuesswhatmyMom?
She says I can have a real kitty
if I don't hit my brother for
a long time, but I don't know
for how long, just she said
a really long time. |
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to laugh loud
scream when excited
to not have to
sit like a lady
every day
is another adventure
oh to be young again
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When a smile gets so big it seems inhuman,
you know it is a child that flaunts it.
When the road is short
and full of bumps and burrows,
you know the voice behind the push
is young and sparse of furrows.
The forehead draws,
the cheeks and smile lines drive inward,
the hairs grow gray and peppered,
and they all wish they were young of days,
to reach down, and push outward. |
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One was born in the water
and looked intently at us
without even taking a breath
as if already practicing the art
of diving into an unknown world.
His moods were like the summer wind -
warm and calm with rare surprising rains;
with him he brought the fine soft snow
of mid-april, the love of a late dusk.
The other was (is) the sunrise, bright
loud and new each day; intense
as the fire of rainforests,
the marvelous exhaustion after a long run.
Though the thick path of parenthood, we walk
on our knees over and over
partly picking up the pieces of the old
person we used to be; partly blessing
the earth for the love it has given us. |
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The job I can’t find,
The student loans stuck in deferment.
The kisses I’ve gone without.
The crying I’ve done, alone.
The corn-clad litter boxes which refuse to clean themselves,
The cigarettes I can’t stop smoking.
The wine I buy on clearance, screw-tops and stale.
The dog we’re going to lose to ash.
The grandfather who doesn’t remember to urinate in private.
The fucking onslaught of penalties tallied in the Windy City.
With my pretty pink mouth, thirty years after this photo of me
was taken in a different dress in a different time,
today was a waste of makeup.
I’m going to bed.
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your baby teeth find any reason
to bear witness --
the birthday cake.
the goldfish bowl.
the tickling hands.
the goodnight kiss.
but someday, girl, someday --
not even god herself
will make you smile like that. |
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| even the ancient tide holds its breath for a moment at each peak but a child knows only every moment's eternal ecstasy |
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this morning
i stretched my limbs out
like the longest notes
in the piano
concerto that is my
blended blood
[my yawn was the applause]
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I smell of dirt - have dirt
up my nose. I bake cakes
in the sun on cracked mud brick.
The day I met my mother isn't
the birthday I first remember her
attending - isn't the day we met.
I work near the water. I leave the
sun. I leave the heat, the wind.
Brown skin is wholesome, filling. |
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in a family picture
it is difficult to tell
if the father is dancing
or convulsing;
the mother is dozing
or passed out drunk;
the child is screaming,
begging them:
stop
or laughing her
fucking head off.
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Some hide under the table
when others sing and we're three.
There are some who stand there
and shout light into the glow.
There are those who want the shadow
from someone else's spotlight.
This little scream of joy because she exists,
this celebration of life is what all
the world might want on their birthday.
If only the world were on an axis
exactly, on it's birthday.
If every day were the birthday,
and every birthday
the world's
(and it is),
could there be a day when all the world is candlelit
and shadowed?
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There was a time in which to laugh out loud was ok,
as to make funny faces,
stump my feet and cry shamelessly
for what I wanted.
At that time, it was ok
to fall asleep on my mother's lap,
bury my face in her chest when sad or in pain,
to have no one judge my vulnerability.
I envy the trembling fists
of three year old little girls
that scream full lungs for disappointment.
That freedom of wanting it all,
asking, demanding for it all,
no matter if we were actually to receive it
was refreshing.
The freedom to say "NO! I don't want to" or
"you can't make me..."
The giggle, the drawings,
the simple words, the questions...
Today I am a woman
who learned how to comply
with the demands for formality and privacy
our adult life requires,
while in the depth of my heart
sometimes I let myself slide backwards
to a little girl and her assertiveness,
and under my breath
followed by a satisfied smile I whisper:
"NO! I don't want to and you can't make me!"
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