Tuesday, April 23, 2013

North Carolina's Generations

                                                                                                9:40 AM

What does this say about our nation, our state?

North Carolina

When I was a little girl

- I remember the smell of a spring morning – rich with the scent of freshly turned earth.
- I remember walking barefoot through dew-covered moss & feeling the warm sun on my cheek (even as a brisk wind tried to chill my soft skin).

So maybe, in 5 years or so, another generation is so visibly altered from my own & created too quickly.

            Shouldn’t there be 10-15 years between generations (didn’t it used to be 20)?

            Shouldn’t there be some sort of collective consciousness that we can all claim a piece of?

... my grammatical sense fades as I become more enraged …

            How is it that a person 3-4 years my junior has never picked an apple from an apple tree?
-          Are they not from my state, the figment of an old man’s presumption?
-          Or – do things really change that rapidly?

God help us / Goddess save us from this constant state of flux & departure from beauty & innocence.

            Give us strength to remember …


Monday, April 22, 2013

Girl Products

I can't tell all about it

Just yet I've discovered my place

Far behind in the woods

An echo restless calls
                I can't stand when
I'm weary

                Can't hunger when
I don't care about substance

Lingering visions of more important tears

Not for me               but her
                The one that can't speak

She's locked in a little place
                Never been given water
                                can't grow
Mindless AND conniving
                But really just a child

Interior blues don't fade
                like my eyes with my moods

                The stones aren't set
The time passes

                                BUT SLOWLY

                daughter of misery
Do you want to play?

                                GO AWAY

                                                come back

I can't help but misunderstand
                When that's all that anyone's ever done.

                don't know how to be "just right"

Just my mama's excuse
everyone else's "not quite good enough."

Mdawn (01/27/1995)

Diary of My Days

Little blue book

Opening to my touch
                need you so much

Shh ... it's a secret
                but my head must crack
for a minute or two

I turn to you
                You understand
                                don't say a word

Writing with a fever

                and I don't know

WHY?  You won't tell
                I understand myself
My private little hell inside
                a book
it dwells day by day
                my thoughts collapse on a pen
Jumbled and careless
                THEY FALL

But then my book sweeps them up with her worn fingers
                And reminds me of

A Grandparent I never knew
A father I never had
                A mother that left
A brother's death
                A sister - CAME CLOSE
A love - will it last? 
My DIARY knows.

Mdawn (circa 1996)

Give Me Your Sleeve

You think I'm too dreary
            Wanting things to be just right?
Trees sigh as I walk by
            The leaves waving in reply
My eyes are full of insight
            The starlight shines so very bright
Moonrise over poppy fields
            The sun flowers in the dawn - flowers in her hair

Get so high on ideas and emotions

I think I can fly off your roof
            Will you catch me if I fall and love me when I cry?
I need you       join my soul
            Teardrops in the rain
                        in a purple sky
And grey enfolds me              Then I wonder why
            Rainy days intrigue me
Maybe the tears burn my eyes
            Mingle with the night
Blue-black river of hope
            Indecisive at the turns
and then
            rushing up the bank

Wanders aimlessly

                                    ANSWER ME

Need an answer
            for forever

Occurrences of the past
            startle my creativity

Blanket of Fear

                Please                      go away

But I got to wipe my eyes
       ON WHAT?

                                give me your sleeve.

Mdawn (circa 1995)