DESCRIPTION Plight - The description of how I lost the gift of poetry. [138 words] The Hunt - Anger and consequently the violence of a young mother at her husband for not living up to his responsibilities shows the wrath of a woman after being pushed too far. (Something I wrote before my poetic creativity went on leave). [379 words]
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Erin is a person obsessed with writing. She has finally come to enjoy the passion that has been with her since she wrote her first poem at the age of four. Recently she began to write fiction. These are my first tries at short stories and fiction, I used to write poetry but for some reason I don't feel very poetic anymore, but I decided to put some of my past poetic works here also. [December 1999]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (8) A Night Of Love Making (Poetry) Just a poem. [35 words] Conformity (Poetry) About the pressures that I feel toward conforming to society and its views. [102 words] Fake Reality (Short Stories) Covers the thoughts and influences of a gold digger at the moment when she commits suicide. [1,034 words] I Look Quickly Away (Poetry) A poem that I wrote when I first kissed my current boyfriend. [115 words] Life's Course (Poetry) Just about the pressure of living. [260 words] My Unavoidable Hell (Poetry) Can't really explain, would appreciate any feedback that you would like to give. [89 words] The Attack Of Love (Poetry) (For Kantrell Who Gave Me The Title) The experience of living and fulfilling the purpose of life - love. [88 words] Through The Window (Short Stories) This story is about a nine year old girl who is being sexually abused. [1,211 words]
Plight, A Collection Erin D. Traynum
Why is my poetic mind leaving me day by
day?
I think I can remember
when it started.
I was twelve,
and had just realized that my
childhood had been demoralized-
I'd lost my innocence.
I took to wondering what was wrong with me.
Wrote it down
in notebooks and computers and word processors.
As the years went by
paper and disks piled up
but I aws still the same
and though my physical presence had one
The deepness of my soul was without a name.
Tricked myself into thinking about thoughts
that I thought
that I should be thinking about.
It didn't work.
The poetic words left a bit, and inside-
if I could have-
I would have felt empty,
but I didn't.
Kept trying to show
the fakeness,
became a phony
and lost my poetic nature.
I'm trying to get it back-
and it's coming
bit by bit by bit.
Words flow sometime-
but only
when I am in tune with the world.
The Hunt
Young Mother was waiting for His Ass to
come home.
Ask her for something-
like food, or pussy,
or just for her to listen to him speak those stupid ass syllables of his called words
She waited with the lights out,
without the door closed
The electricity had been cut off
(because of His Ass)
The babies had to go to sleep
to the waving of the candle flames
(even though their little faces smiled
and took delight in life all the same)
She blamed His Ass
Because his stupid ass
probably smoked up the money
while out with his dumb ass buddies-
swinging on vines in the jungle that he loved-
probably more than young mother or the babies.
Car lights brightened the dark house
and traveled across the ceiling.
Young Mother watched their journey kneeling,
eyeing, preying behind the darkness that covered her body.
His Ass came up the stairs,
through the door,
walked across the floor toward her,
asked, "You got a cigarette baby?"
She didn't answer,
kept everything but her eyes concealed.
Revealed nothing of her plan.
His Ass reached his hand under the skirt of the lamp
and made the switch click.
Nothing happened,
he accepted this,
no realization entered his mind.
Went back over to Young Mother,
asked her again for a smoke.
A roar of laughter errupted from her abdomen
as if his comment was a joke.
Inside her body she felt the anger,
the rage seeping into her blood stream-
over taking her-
controlling her brain.
Thoughts now became fuel-
tools of wrath.
No lights at night traveled the length of her spine.
Not having water for a week.
Having to have the babies take baths over His Ass' sister's house branched out
consuming her-
making a tremble turn into a twitch on her mouth.
His Ass stood staring at the crazy animal woman before him.
She stopped her laughter abruptly
and looked back at him and attacked him with her claws.
Sent blows to his face with her paws
and as he stood in total surprise and in pain
she pushed His Ass with her powerful strength onto the porch
and watched as his body went out of the window,
off of the cliff.
She walked back to her lair
with the stare of Young Baby Girl-
with tears in her eyes, following her-
and Young Mother looked into it...
and enjoyed the darkness.
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