AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (7) Didgeridoo (Non-Fiction) A review of a short performance I had the privilege of attending in Australia in 2001. [378 words] [Travel] Nothing New (Non-Fiction) One woman's experience with surviving domestic abuse and moving on with life. [2,352 words] Postage Stamp Dreams (Poetry) An accidental LSD dose at the age of seven years can have effects that last a lifetime. [308 words] [Mind] Rainbow Storms (Poetry) Playing with poetry magnets and then doing a little bit of judicious editing resulted in one of the best poems I've ever written. [67 words] [Erotic] Sanctify (Poetry) A poem about being on the outside of society, about being blessed with unconditional love, and about acceptance. [230 words] [Mystical] See The Light? (Non-Fiction) Random memories about a father from a daughter who loved him. [1,807 words] [Biography] Six Years Of Valentines (Poetry) Six poems, one written each Valentine's Day from 1996 to 2001. They form a whole when read together, tracking the course of my long distance relationship with my now husband. Oddly enough, 2002 was ou... [560 words] [Relationships]
A Mother, A Friend, A Rock Solid Bitch Jenn Thomas-Orr
In my young life, I carried an image with me Of the perfect mother. She wasn't the one I had No, no no.
She was the Virgin Mary My Aunt Susie My Grammy Debbie Hopkins' mother Anybody's mother but mine.
Early memory Four year old child Confused and mother-lonely And Daddy brings the New Girlfriend Home.
"Are you my Mommy?" "No, but I will be." Yeah, right. She never was. Oh, she was a "mother" all right. (In more ways than one) But never a Mommy. Just a cold and cruel woman. Not my Mommy.
Somehow I had forgotten you In a few short months. I didn't have your face in my heart. Your voice in my head. Just emptiness And The same question for every Woman I met: "Are you my Mommy?"
Vague memories From when I was five A weekend with you A wondrous weekend. A fight back at home, And threats and yelling, And you walking down the stairs Not willing to put us through it Anymore. Letting go, for your sanity. And ours.
Solomon once judged "Cut the child in half And give each woman one half" And the true mother Was willing to walk away Rather than harm her child. A real Mother.
And that is when I found you For good and all. And I carried your face with me During the lost years. I heard your voice in my mind And I clung to my vision of you.
Years passed. And healing began, Healing was, healing is. Healing will continue It's a daily struggle, Mending this breach between us.
And years pass I find in my Mother A Mommy A friend A rock solid bitch Who makes me angry. A wildly funny woman Who can make me laugh Without even working at it. A brilliant conversationalist Who I can gab with for hours. A friend, a goddess, An enemy, an angel, All wrapped up inside One living being, Aging now but still Beautiful And so wonderfully Brilliantly You.
Never easy, Not the two of us, Never simple. We are both very Vibrant Opinionated Sensitive Easily hurt Quick to jump Quick to flee And to hide Behind anger - A safe haven From tears. That is the kind of women We are. Spines of Solid Iron. Hearts of small hurt kids.
The damage that Was done To both of us. Could have destroyed us. The Usness of Us. Could have torn us from Each other, in a blink.
But like glue, I stuck. Even when it wasn't easy. Even when I hated you. Even when you didn't Like me very much or Understand me at all.
And that glue stuck. And filled in the cracks Patches were found To fit into the holes, Although we left A few holes unpatched, The better to treasure The mended Us.
This poem for my Mother was inspired by a comment my friend Meg made in a conversation we were sharing about the women who gave us life. Thank you Meg. And thank you Ma.
"She was mother, goddess, friend, enemy, angel, bitch all rolled into one." -Meg Britton
READER'S REVIEWS (2) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Though this is very therapy, I liked it, especially the line which inspired the title. There's a nice easy rhythm to it - feels like conversation." -- Iam.
"i just want to say fuck" -- fucker, fuck, fuckity, fuck.
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