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“My mother has told me once and for all the useful parts. She will add nothing unless powered by necessity, a riverbank that guides her life. She plants vegetable gardens rather than lawns; she carries the odd-shaped tomatoes home from the field and eats food left for the gods.” — Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts by Maxine Hong Kingston
a gift from my mom!
“Why am I as I am? To understand that of any person, his whole life, from birth must be reviewed. All of our experiences fuse into our personality. Everything that ever happened to us is an ingredient.” — Malcom X (Autobiography as told to Alex Haley)
More often than not
I feel terribly alone
A victim of my own uniqueness
or others’ inability to relate
I don’t trust people who don’t trust cats.
and the chirping bird gave a long forgotten familiar sound of spring,
with my helmet on tightly,
riding my bicycle alongside my father
through the green trees as if they would never brown
or golden.
The way I had looked at my father,
forever my strong protector from harm,
a teacher, an adventurer.
I peered out my frosted window only to find the cold view of winter,
and my lover by my side
with broken bones
and a neck brace.
The birds,
they remind me:
I am someone’s anchor
Enter my giveaway for your chance to win this ring!
There was a boy with big brown owl eyes,
a sarcastic gleam and an asymmetrical smile.
There he was, just diagonal from me,
a beer bottle in hand and the jolliest laugh.
There he was again, this time across
a dripping pillar candle and dim light.
There he was on my lips,
and again on my mind.
And there he was,
out on the town.
My heart sank and gave way,
to mutual apologies.