Life has no smooth road for any of us; and in the bracing atmosphere of a high aim the very roughness stimulates the climber to steadier steps, till the legend, over steep ways to the stars, fulfills itself.

W. C. Doane

Sunday, February 19, 2012

I remember...

I'm sorry it's taken me forever to write. Life has such a way of grabbing you by the hand and saying Let's go! I'll write more soon enough but I wanted to share something I wrote for myself recently. I've been taking this poetry class and one of the things we were asked to write about was a memory, specifically one from childhood. We were given examples of your mother baking cookies, or reading you stories. I did have a few of those but some of the most vivid memories of my childhood were not those happy ones, they from my dad who was an alcoholic. When he drank he was very violent, so here's what came of that poem. It's nothing amazing as i'm just getting into the rhythm but tell me what you think....

I remember...
Eyes so smooth and glossy
So full of heat and anger
A face so seemingly familiar
Yet not all the face of a man I thought I knew

I remember...
The stranger that barged his way
Into my home
Into my childhood
Into my safe spaces
A face so red and flushed
Like hot and angry molten lava coursed through those inner veins
Bitterness forming the unfamiliarity that haunted this body

I remember....
Lips that refused to hold a once affable smile
Breath that left the bitter, lingering damp smell of whiskey in the air
Eyes heated in a raging anger,
Long gone the soft smiling eyes of yesterday

I remember...
Heavy hands cast onto a body that refused them
Hands raised in fury
Pounding fists into a body once promised to be cherished till death
Broken souls revealed on broken bodies
Hues of reds, blues and purples

I remember...
The shattering of objects that once were
Items that once held shape and meaning
broken into small shards on a wall that held the dark secrets of that home

I remember...
A dark room, closed eyes
The sounds of a young girl's deafening heart beat
Though nothing could stifle the screams penetrating the doors of that space
I remember falling asleep to the sounds of violence.