Poetry (2) Jade Edition
A vignette of a strong mother who like a tigress defends her young ones from the wrath of an abusive father. The self-flagellation and pain of the abused children is also portrayed with touching sensitivity.
My mother loved me and loved me hard
Grew me in the midst of abuse domestic that is
The fierceness of her protection obvious
She took the licks, but he dared not touch this child...
A tigress in her defense of me. Do not touch her child!!!!
Told me I was pretty...never felt that way, but
I loved her with complete abandon and no reservations.... I loved her with a boundless passion that never waned.....my sweet mama!
She died....... no where to put this love I cocooned from a child to an adult, it grew and grew till it exploded into a fearless protection of her from her abuser, in the domesticity of abuse, in a marriage where she stayed...
Stayed for me her last child
Stayed for my sister and bother before me
Because of her station
In the uncertainty that seems certain
While observing hope but living far from it
Cause she had no way out of it
Stayed until I grew up and drew a bottle, broke it and almost stabbed out his heart...
Then she left...
Left out of fear
Because that night he was the vilest she'd ever seen
Because he attacked her child
kicked her child in her most precious place .....and drew blood
Left because she was angry
So we could escape his rage
Left because she had had enough
So our lives could be spared
Left for the uncertain but hopeful future
For 32 years this monster reigned and yet;
The ability to be normal existed
He seemed to portray some good
Good, we were denied
Went on to marry again and;
Never touched the new wife or the new son abusively
At least so I've heard
But lived a normal, decent, respectable life from all accounts and;
One wonders what did we do?
To evoke such anger
To cause the unleashing of such rage
To provoke the worst in humankind the belts, the broom, the machete, his fists, a heated iron...the evil thoughts, the wickedness the butchery.....
I wonder, we wonder, life wonders the earth is puzzled...what is it that stirs the beast of abuse to rise up and inflict on one?
And yet not on another.
Daun M. Wright, aka The Permissible Poet, Podcaster & Freelance Creative Writer. Daun pens poetry that speaks to the heart of our being, while allowing each reader to reflect on their life's journey. She lives in London, Ontario Canada.
Life is full of beauty and enchantment, but we need a discerning eye to see the beauty of sequined fish, tangled bracelets or dainty socks.
fish with sequins
pink soled paws
grapes fill the sky
Ann Privateer is a poet, artist, and photographer. She grew up in the Midwest and now resides in Northern California. Some of her recent work has appeared in Third Wednesday and Entering to name a few.
The poet’s last wish is to be one with the Earth in death. He offers himself up to the grass and trees that feed on West Coast loam and reach for the splendor of the azure sky.
Unlike my dear older sister
Who selected to leave
Existence as ashes
Made in oven flames,
[ Worst dream for any Christian ]
My last wish
Would be for burial
Six feet deep,
Laying face up
In my box of pine wood
Lined in silk,
Dressed in my Sunday best
Stone black, down to the dress shirt,
Devolves, gracious offering
Feeding West Coast loam,
Grass and local trees
Each reaching for their share
Of the cloudy light blue
Splendour. This way,
The Earth and I
Dee Allen is an African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California U.S.A. Active on creative writing & Spoken Word since the early 1990s. Author of 7 books—Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater, Skeletal Black, Elohi Unitsi and his 2 newest, RustyGallows: Passages Against Hate [ Vagabond Books ] and Plans [ Nomadic
Press ]—and 49 anthology appearances under his figurative belt so far.
A little hole on a wet sandy beach resounds with the sound of the sea. The fullness of the sea merges and becomes one with a tiny hole in the ground.
My finger digs deep.
My finger digs deep.
First there is wet sand
then water spurts up from below it
like a spring.
I put my ear to it.
It is the boom of the sea.
A tide breaks over me,
my body surges seawards.
Neera Kashyap has had a career in social & health communications. She has authored a book for young adults, Daring to Dream, (Rupa & Co.) and contributed to five prize-winning anthologies for children. As a writer of short fiction, poetry, book reviews and essays, her work has appeared in several international literary journals and poetry anthologies. The Indian poetry anthologies include Hibiscus & Shimmer Spring (Hawakal), Freedom Raga & New Normal (Exceller), among others, the international poetry anthologies include The Poet’s ‘Seasons, Poetica 1 & 2 (UK); The Kali Project, Voices from within and Hunger anthology (USA). The literary journals that have published her poetry include Verse Virtual, Life & Legends, Failed Haiku, among others. She lives in Delhi.