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Izshe Sep 2015
I miss my mother
And the sadness in her heart
And the old Adirondack songs she used to sing off key
I never thought I would miss that
But I do now
So much later

And I miss my Aunt
Her full body laugh, her twinkle,
Her short stocky strength
And her compassion for me
No one else showed me that compassion
Not like she did

And how did they have that laugh
Born of a life so hard
How did it survive
And why wasn’t it passed down to us
It was like it was their possession
And we were not privy to it

I have my mother’s cat
He cries for food all the time
It seems
Crying for love
Wanting for sustenance
Just like her

I don’t treat him the way my mother did
She let him eat on the table with her
It was hard for him
No more stove access
No tables, countertops
No Colonel Sanders chicken skins
No shared turkey sandwich

He likes to lie on cold sheets
Or under them
He doesn’t like too much affection
Lest he scratch me
Just like her

He used to miss Her
But now I’m his one and only
And he is mine
Such as it might be
(As my mother would say)

Our horses were her friends
But we were not
Better said, the horses were her secret
And we were not

Her secret life
Was not ours to know
Only her facade of motherly love
Indeed, not selfless

Now I lay her down to rest
Except another layer
Keeps revealing itself to me
As I continue to reveal myself
To me

Someday I will be able to forgive her forever
Once and for all
And love all that she was
And all that she wasn’t

She was just a human being
Who happened to be my mother
Izshe Mar 2015
A million years of karmic debts,
an ancient timeless place
where jabs and hurts and familial retaliations
swirl like witches hats and brooms
in a dust storm of drama,
and I just get to be.

My tears bow down to me,
humble servants
in my quest
for compassion
for those lost
in the fragments of their existence.
Izshe Jan 2015
What was my life
But A Thousand Mirrors
Illusions waiting to be shattered.

At times they cracked by themselves
But more often they cracked and shattered by the Grace of God
And by the Grace of Love
And by the Grace of The Messengers of Love
You know Who you are.

The illusions are cracking
And I am falling towards love.
*A Thousand Mirrors*, A poem by Gurumayi Chidvilasanda from **Ashes at My Guru's Feet**
Izshe Jun 2014
What’s left when you leave behind
All the indignities, all the lies
What’s left is you, My Dear
Soft and pink
So delicate
That a spider’s breath would leave a ripple
Upon your innocence.
Izshe Jun 2014
Curled up on my bed
I once again
purge myself
of my

Childhood Lies.
Izshe May 2014
Icky old men
Selling their wares
Selling their worn out wares.
Izshe Feb 2014
I got up
I was happy
I raised my arms to the sun
I thanked it
I danced
I hugged myself
I went about my business
I went to bed happy
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