When it's family...

O-o

The trouble with knowing


I wonder what she's thinking    
whilst she pretends to watch T.V    
   
She's sat on that same spot    
on the same sofa for more years    
than i care to remember    
gradually not caring about    
the seven long hairs that grow    
from her chin or the stains    
all over her clothing from    
last weeks dinner    
   
She sips her cider    
   
I watch    
   
She sips    
   
I ask: "where is he?"    
   
"He's in bed." She answers    
not removing her eyes from    
the commercials.    
"Pour me another, will you?    
and open the window"    
   
She is almost robotic.    
   
I can see past the piss stained    
mess that has become her    
well enough to know she    
is scared as hell.    
   
I open the window    
The breeze bounces past my cheeks    
   
"He can't open the windows    
anymore" she whispered-  
though i wasn't meant  
to hear that part

can i submit a poem i've already written or should it be a new one?

[font=Verdana]You can submit an old one if you like. The only rule is that each entry must be about a family member. You can also make as many entries as you wish.

Back of the Cover


My grandfather's room  
hummed mysteries  
up that dingy staircase;  
a 60's mustard yellow glow  
taunting young curiosity  
to strike temporary truce  
with conscience  
as well as the ghosts  
in the walls    
 
Upon creaking  
into the Collector's den  
my face was met with racks of scolding  
guns, bows, ammunition-  
but hunting knives gleamed in open drawers    
and some on the floor  
in formation:  
friendly fish    
shimmering my many reflections.    
After imperiling a pirate with the finest    
I gently set it free.    
   
Treasure!  
Rings made with all sorts of metals  
shells, stones  
set neatly on fabric    
in lines    
on the top of his bureau-  
His bookshelves spouted poetry,    
flaunted classic records and novels
like old money    
A small writing desk
flashed me the raven's riddle  
while its resident sealing wax set
sang of cabbages and kings.  
   
Engaged by the sight    
of a wooden box    
dusty in the alcove window    
I imagined inside    
must be his collection of stories for children    
the squirrels had watched him write    
in his prime.    
The box was, indeed    
impenetrable.    
   
Quietly ducking out  
with one last peek  of mustard yellow  
I knew I had only read    
the back of the cover.

Gorgeous,
Beautiful,
Mischievous

Eyes.

Tiny,
Clingy,
Perfect

Fingers & Toes.

Hairless,
Smooth,
Soft

Baby Skin.

You
Look
Like

Your Mom.

I
Love
You
My dear

Daughter.

And you are yet to be one!
Now  lets  go  play
                   & have some fun!

Can the family member be my dick?  I have some good masturbation poetry.

If not, I offer this:

Up In Smoke

No, not yet
Its too soon for you to die old man
Even though you've earned it
 
Smoking Lucky Strikes by the pack
No filter between you and your sweet tobacco
Burning away your days
Inhaling smoke and ember
Scrawling wrinkles on your face
 
Cancer's come a-calling
But I'm the one that's wallowing in a sorrow
Only Jack Daniels knows how to handle
 
A candle's worth of light
Upon this desk tonight
As I spill out words and booze-soaked breath
To take the edge off my regrets when it comes to you,
The Father that I never knew  
 
23 years without  
And when you came around
I had no idea what to do with your presence
So just like all my other problems I let you hover
Sit there, until I had an impulse of something other
To do with you than to spit the curses of my ignorance
 
Sparing you a glance every now and then
A chance conversation  
Scraping details off the surface of this relationship
If you can call it that  
I don't know if I would bother
 
But for having never met
We held so much in common
Talents
Humor
Apprehension of higher powers
Facial structure, a given
And this separate life that I am living
Makes me sigh a heavy, booze-soaked breath of relief
 
What will there be left for me to reap when you are gone?
An empty bag full of questions?
Shrinking footsteps I wished to stand in?
The one-sided story of a good but injured woman
left alone to raise a son, stamping out an impression?
 
A handful of correspondences
Emails
Phone calls
Car rides to all-you-can-eat buffets
Short walks under the shining Florida sun  
In St. Augustine near a fortress by the bay
Cheering on a sports team
I adopted because they...
seemed to make you happy  
 
But that's not good enough for me.
 
Your loss, I'm afraid,
Will mean more to me once its real
And there is no cache of information
Pertaining to the blood, sweat, and vocations  
Of the variables
That siphoned into me  
 
But we don't have that type of openness to heal
And we don't ask questions, maybe, the way we should
And we aren't close enough to reach
To touch each other's lives in the way, that probably, we would
If it didn't take this Jack Daniels to make me feel like a son
And cancer for you to feel like you missed out on being a Dad

[font=Verdana]No I mean family as in other people you're related to, not any physical appendage you have, no matter how impressive it might be.

Fine, then you get more of this:

In His Last Hours of Daylight
 
Pictures showing smiles
Sandcastles and seashells    
Collected as mementos    
Memories blurring
Then fading,    
Then black…    
The hidden ocean of transformation    
Submersed to a depth where old light can not reach    
     
Umbilical.    
Retreating.    
Fetal.    
Rethinking.    
Blind.
Realizing.    
Echoes of a distant heartbeat    
Rebirthed in pain    
   
Frames surrounding eyes    
Glimmers in the day    
Shine    
A single cloud upon the sky    
and a pen upon the page    
Breaks    
Bleeding    
Staining paper    
Expanding    
Feeding    
Then black…    
The forbidden ocean of direct contact    
Submersed to a depth to be protected from the bright    
Blind    
     
Words losing meaning    
Gestures incomplete    
Rethinking    
Touch absent
(In a ‘reduction of needs’ sort of way)    
Retreating    
A façade of faces washing up upon a shore    
Collected as mementos    
Memories blurring
Then fading
Until they are no more    
     
Family portraits
With some family missing    
The belly of the beast is ticking    
Pangs of hunger growing    
Growling toward the echoes of a distant heart
Rolls of thunder forming clouds    
Swallowing the sky    
Eyes tearing in the dwindling bright    
Still blind    
and now,
Somewhat frightened    
     
A single drop upon the page    
Upon the path the pen has made    
Expanding sky    
Absorbing waters    
Words bleeding    
Losing meaning    
The private ocean of nothing sacred
Rethinking these matters of an imprisoned heart    
   
Eyes readjusting    
Thoughts realizing    
Rebooting / Digitizing    
Fading / Pixelating    
Resolution reducing down to nil    
Failures cascading    
System crashed upon the reef of tarnished frames
On family portraits    
Fading smiles and blurring eyes    
   
Blood and water mingle    
Single drops upon the page    
Placing vultures in the sky and sharks below the waves    
Flotsam floats upon the faces    
Water damaged and strewn upon the shore    
Echoes of a distant heartbeat    
Collected as mementos    
Until they are no more    
     
Electric information    
Arranged to this approximation    
Two pairs of blurring eyes    
One yours    
The other, mine    
And these words have now    
Completely
     
lost
     
their
   
meaning.    
In the terrifying ocean of not knowing what to say      
   
With vultures in the clouds and sharks below the waves    
Smiles fading
Gestures remaining incomplete    
Everything is starving    
Wanting for its piece/peace    
Submersed now to a depth where old light can not reach    
Blurring smiles with fading eyes    
The isolated ocean of finally realizing    
and knowing,
Beyond a doubt      
what comes next    
     
Umbilical.    
Retreating.    
Fetal.    
Rethinking.    
Blind.
Realizing.    
Echoes of a distant heartbeat    
   
Then black...    
Released from pain    
     
Flotsam strewn upon the shore    
For mile on endless mile    
Collected as mementos    
     
These...      
   
                pictures...    
   
     showing...    
   
                   
      smiles.    

             < ice cream >
     
     my little brother never liked ice cream
     and the rest of us kids just couldn't understand this
     
     why
     we always asked
     don't you like ice cream?
     and how
     we always asked
     can you NOT like ice cream?
     
     years later
     we still ask
     he still doesn't
     
             - - -

No matter what I’ve done
No matter what I’ll ever do
Nothing could overcome the sadness in my heart
If I can’t be with you

I take you everywhere I go
Be it short or far
Within every beat of my heart
That is where you are

You’re with me every morning I awake
As a matter of fact, the entire day
You even whisper in my ear
With every word I say

You’re even with me on the court
And still you follow me to the shower
And as love rains over my entire body
I’m totally cleansed by its power

You’re my one and only dream
And you’re featured on all my thoughts
You were even with me
For the last burger that I bought

You sit with me on the job
And walk with me through the rain
And every time I fall
You help me overcome the pain

You’re there when I succeed
You’re even there when I fail
You never try to hide
You’re even there when I meet other females

And no matter how they look
Be it foul or fair
They’ll never take your spot
Because to you, they don’t compare

You’re with me when I eat
You’re even with me when I drink
If you weren’t in my life
I wouldn’t have enough breath to even think

You’re the love of my life
Like you, there will never be another
Because no other lady
Can give me the love of my mother

Love, your son, Eric

“To Mama”
by:  Eric L. Boddie

thanks

Anamnesis

Sleep sweet longing,
I shall tuck you
pleasantly, in
your deathbed.  

† to my Dearest 22/2/2010