Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Redshift
take me to a carnival, please.
just make sure you
protect me
from all the people
(big crowds
**** me off)
and don't win me
a stuffed animal
let me
do it
myself
but
tell me
how
wonderful i am
afterwards.
hold my hand
maybe just a little
give me
light kisses
on my lips
smile at me,
baby
baby needs a smile
sometimes
too.
i wish i could find a boy i could stand.
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Redshift
if i had
a big red rubber ball
i think i'd be happy.
i think i could
smile.
i could walk down the sidewalk,
and bounce it
and try not to think about
my little brothers' and sisters' faces
try not to think how
little jesse would
love a
big
red
rubber
ball
or how miriam would
try to stand on it
or how john would
kick it as far as he could
or how elayna would
paint it
mid-
air

if i had a big red rubber ball
i could be happy
for a couple of seconds
until i started to
think
...but maybe those seconds
would be
worth it...
if you love me
give it to me
but then
take it away
i hate you, mom.
Seven New Poems For Seven Days #1: Shiva

Shiva means seven. For seven days, the bereaved family "sits shiva," sitting on low, uncomfortable stools and the comforters come to share their grief, praise the deceased, from mourning till late at night.
*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~


I am confused - what day is it?
Windows tell day or night, a necessary but a condition insufficient.
The days have no distinguishing marks, a video stuck on
Repeat - a single track of recollected tales, prayers add a mild seasoning.

Though brief is this week of pre-sentencing hearings,
If one cannot dice the time into portions,
Then, there can be no pardon,
No early release date, from Phase One.

Rinse grief. Repeat. Seven cycles.
Apply stain-stick at the intersection of
Bloodied hurts and dimming memories,
Strangers secreting, spilling on you secrets unwanted.

This play, saw it many decades ago,
Before there was poetry, children.
A young man of twenty one,
Very afraid, silently, of the newest unknown.

I hated it then. Now experienced, I hate it more.
This semi-catharsis, a tapestry tale wove of faded pasts
Twisting an heirloom blade into an old wound,
the original cast, a new revival, playwright, regrettably, deceased...

First time at bat, hid in a small room, away from this tradition.
Beating my head against a wall privately,
That being my preferred manner of mourning,
Not this Broadway show, twice a day, seven days.

Rituals well intentioned, a time tested method,
nonetheless, jail time for me, a/k/a, the boy, the brother.
Familiarity comforts some. Me? A prison uniform.
I write my own poems, I am not a Borg collective.

Cast as Son, my obligations specific, aged.
My Hamlet doublet, cut/torn, messaging my somber status,
The cuts deepest, invisible, but all see this child
Drowning in eye pools that continuously self-replenish.

I'll do the time, this show the longest running ever,
Did forty years as son-shadow of a father-man,
Tacked another concurrent sentence for his woman,
End Date: Indeterminate...

The low stools will reappear, seven days for me,
Yet my job as poet not fully done, until this be read!
Leave 'em laughing o'er this Official Release from the obligatory,
Read, sit but once, read this poem, this script, this story, and be freed.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shiva_(Judaism)
^ Sitting Shiva:
The word Shiva comes from the Hebrew word shiv'ah, which literally means "seven". The tradition was developed in response to the story in Genesis 50:1-14 in which Joseph mourns the death of his father Jacob (Israel) for seven days.
When my mother passed away a week ago, her three children observed the custom of shiva at her apartment.  Numerous visitors came for days. People who knew her, family from both sides, people who knew us from the communities, schools, camps we lived in over the past 70 years! My father passed away forty years ago. Both of my parents were outgoing, considerate human beings, who  touched many lives in ways we often did not know about. Stories about both of them told, retold, retold again, driving me crazy, but as an expiation of sadness, the shiva process works...
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Redshift
i will chase happiness,
my childhood dream
down to the riverbank
in this foreign town
i will look for it
in the reflection of my face
on the water
with the sunlight
in my eyes.
i will follow it down the sidewalk
to the baseball diamond
where i once kicked up dust and gravel
on a sunny day
in contempt
of a bad call:
a dry-mouthed
wonderful
day.
i will pursue it
until i get to the big yellow house
of trauma
and i will close my eyes
and pretend that
home doesn't smell
like a crypt
i will see mom and dad
standing in the sunlight
on the shore of the lake
smiling.
i will think happy thoughts
i will dream happy dreams
i will be
happy
as long as i can tuck away
re
ali
ty
like a child that has
finally fallen asleep.
think of things that make me happy.
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Amber S
"Tell me a secret."

I cannot *** with my eyes open. (Especially when it’s with someone)

"No way."

I still believe that one day you’ll tell me you love me.

"Why not?"

When I’m driving, I imagine swerving into the other lane. I imagine what color your eyes would be when you find out.

"I can’t."

I cannot let you inside my anatomy anymore, for twice is far too much. Your touch creates asteroids, and I am struggling to place layering upon the craters.

"Tell me a secret."

*Your eyes are still supernovas.
In a hurry,
the legs of the ant traversed the length of the electric wire.

Half way,
the animal hesitated,

turned round,
met my gaze,

ceased walking
before finally walking away.

It must have understood my plea
to be left alone.
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Redshift
pick me up
play with me
accidentally
drop me
mommy
throws me
away.
i lie in a plastic can for
two days
get wrapped up
put outside
in the fresh morning air
for
two hours
picked up
dumped
into a big truck
with other people
just
like
me
we take a roadtrip
try to see
what there is
to see
but the view
is pretty ******
we all have a convention
in a big, loud building
we talk about
what we did wrong
and what really wasn't
our fault
some don't even
talk
because they are
too broken...
...we are suddenly
put back together
(in a sense)
back into
working order
crushed into
orderly cubes
so not one of us
hangs loose
they
file us away
where we stay
and stay
and
stay
rejects
of a society
that broke us
 Jul 2013 Amelia Browder
Anna
Because
It's easier
To believe in
A good ****
Than
True love.
Next page