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The meaning of growing up,
Perhaps lost in translation
I never realized what it meant,
To lose your innocence
And the feeling of playing catch up,
When the train had left the station.
Anais Vionet Jun 25
My mom's passionate about Newton's second law of thermodynamics.
She uses a "mom" version which can be stated as:
"Daughters tend toward disorder if not managed."
If I'm nothing else, I'm vigorously, meticulously managed like a tiger that must be turned judiciously from one situation to another lest a foot be forfeit.
"You're too young for"... is more than a formulate, it's a knife-like rule-tool, to dampen upheaval, banish trespassers, and put the "new" under glass" just out of reach. It's forever primed, there in the parenting tool-belt and can be thrown with the gunfighter's liquid, skillful ease.
So when I say I'm into something "new," I mean I've tiptoed into that Tartarus where you find the scandalous, like short skirts and Internet *******.
The "new" is prima-facie proscribed until it's proven cold, safe and harmless then blessed like an old Disney movie.
Our impromptu confinement in suspending the world has allowed me unaccounted moments to sample and measure how this "new" might fit into my life.
So it is  now that I wake up every morning ready for crime and I live but a hairsbreadth from punishment yes, I've discovered one of God's greatest gifts and seductions - coffee.
After about a week, my brother, while I'm reading the news, transparently focuses my mom's attention on the cup by my iPad, by glancing, slowly with his eyes. My mom is fleetingly lost, then she alights:
"You're too young for coffee," she says.
I look up and groan.
Then, as she moves to collect the now-banned item, I send a sisterly glower to my brother who stands blithely and innocently sipping from his cup.
a poem about growing up, parenting and coffee
Anais Vionet Jun 25
(in 2017 my parents wanted to move us to Shenzhen, China - for a year)

No luminous field of stars tonight and no rain as yet, just booming thunder and the play of light on darkness.

I lay in a grass clearing, watching the sky. Swirling clouds and flashes of light - bright streaks - as far as the eyes can see.

Wind whips the trees, the sky, my hair. Leaves irregularly blow by as if in a hurry or perhaps debris from some strange slow-motion explosion.

I feel at home in this chaos. This angry sky mirrors my mood, my life at this moment. The next few days, next few hours will change everything, for me, or nothing. My future looms suddenly dark, frightening and empty.

Am I really caught in this plan, this parental gravity, this storm, that can upset my entire life, where years of furious work are meaningless??

There is no compass for dreams, they know only passionate directions. I’ve defended them as best I could, like a lioness, a lover, but there’s no stopping a storm.. I guess.

As the rain begins I know one thing.. I will not move..
About how my teen life is dependent on greater family plans
Anais Vionet Jun 25
Parents, the keepers of the door to this amazing universe..

To them I am a fragile sapling, staked for its own good. Protected from sweet kisses, funny and salty, somber and delicious.

Parents, those figures of authority - from whom our true lives are kept.

Protect me from scars no deeper than a blush, from rustles on a soft battlefield, caressed curves, tousled hair and appetitive breaths of each others air.

Parents, who guard against loves bombardment, the persistent courtship. Giving ground in slow but immense movement, like those of continental plates.

Parents, whose power will fade with no more cause than time, gentle as mist, as powerful as a waterfall.
A poem about growing up and parents (from a teen view)
Anais Vionet Jun 25
What's the scariest book you ever read? ... Some Stephen King book like Salem's Lot or The Shining? For me it's Kate Millett's ****** Politics ... Oh, man ... Now THAT will scare you to death if you're female.

I discovered a man, overheard at my church, who actually believes his *** is a sign of power and of superiority. WHY am I so startled? Some childish trust not yet scrubbed off?" Or worse yet, some belief, not yet strangled, in a better world? See, stupid me, I thought this bill had been paid, by sufferance, by real people like Elizabeth Stanton, Carrie Catt and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. ... by entire generations who ran through those tangled woods emerging cut and bruised ... if at all.

What is it like for HIM? I see him eyeing us, his little inferiors who bleed with the moon, with secret, catlike distaste ... regarding female opinions as slightly impure ... then, with calm, Godlike grace, granting females the forms of servant to assume.

Can I, can we, be forced to accept this inheritance? I don't know ... All I know is that this prejudice, so strangely without substance, strikes me like a dueler's lucky ******, robbing me of attendant rights and wit ... springing a tender trap of doubt in the future and abandoning me to stammering.
a free verse piece about sexism equality and about growing up
Justin Lai Jun 24
Memories of an old friend's drum;
rejoice as your paths intertwine
and leave an emerald mark,
like a ferry towards safer shores
to guide you between kin's ways,
planting the roots of clarity
where you'll grow with the rhythm
of a ready wan light.
Thank you to teachers past and present, even if it's just a little advice you gave 😁
Isaac Jun 21
I will pretend this day doesn't exist
Just like the person, it demands remembrance
But only in the locked ivory pages of my diary

The pain I have yet to unpack all come rushing back
The memories of you and the present lack
I cannot say you were an inspiration
I cannot say you taught me how to be a good man

I can say that behind my willowed face of pain
That I will always be apart of you but not in vain
I will take the gifts bestowed and continue to grow
Without you and let karma give you the seeds you sowed
All poisonous like the tainted water I had to grow in
Your toxicity within me so potent

Invaded my home unwillingly like a rodent
We supposed to be forever and always but your actions rendered you an opponent
I was hand-fed rage by your hard hands and I failed to notice.
All in divine order
Erica Girone Jun 20
When did we start to hide
The feelings we experienced inside
When did we learn to fear
The people we kept near
When did our dreams start to change
And our thoughts rearrange
When was the final day
Our innocence went away
Kelly Lin Jun 18
the flower in the vase,
you gave it beams of innocence
and poured drops of affection.
but when all is done, when all is said
you did not stop the flower from its death

and you'll never understand
the way it that it wilts
the way it wants to stay there...
inspired by a quote "the flower in the vase smiles but no longer laughs"

also based on my personal experiences

its not that good I just felt bad
and I needed to stop thinking about something
Poetic T Jun 16
His slippers still in the corner,
           I wear them sometimes
scuffing along.

I'll fill these empty shoes  
                              one day,
           making you proud.
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