#oldwoman
Several college students stood around
arguing about the meaning of God.
Nearby sat an old Indian woman.
They asked her what she thought.
With a wan smile
she took a small blue bowl
from a plastic shopping bag
laid the crinkly bag on her lap
and pointing to it she said
“This is the universe.”
Then she pointed inside the bag’s opening
and said,
“This is God.”
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
The old woman ran a leathery hand through her cropped hair.
"Yes, you may weep for the fields of green, as they were gorgeous yet thought to be boring."
She rocked back and forth and her wrinkled face contorted into a smile for the first time in the conversation.
"You may always cry for the tulip fields as they were devastatingly beautiful yet loathed."
And yet, as soon as her face had lit up like a thousand suns, it was once again devoid of expression.
"But, nonetheless, reserve your pity for those that loved he or she that burned out,
for every lover of Icarus knows that it is better to be hated than to go unnoticed."
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
I saw her from a distance
Her evident difference
alarmed me for a moment
My eyes hidden behind glasses
made split second assessments
My confusion in this place of fitting in
was considerable, unknown to me
I saw in her hand the cigarette burning
Her fat perfectly rounded belly held
and wrapped in red flowering
frilly and flowing dress
It was hiked up at the front
showing pudgy white blotchy skin
the time for babies was long behind her
We moved closer toward each other
Her difference and indifference grew
I noticed her saunter with unstable gait
Her long dried out died blond hair
Her own attempt at glamour stood out
The mismatched colours, the loose layers
and the string of large yellow beads
wrapped around her goitre throat
Her eyes gazing downwards
We were going to pass soon
I knew she was different
It was surprising and unexpected in this place so the same
I was unprepared in those seconds left to pass
Thoughts and feeling arose and changed
Those thoughts and feelings are mine to question
"Good morning"
And on the wind the smell of old cheap perfume
and cigarette smoke, delicious
Reminding me of who I was before
Of a far away time brought to mind
by that perfect mix of smoky chemicals
a place with happy memories
a place I longed to return to
my youth
I was left with a realisation
Our desire can lead us down a one way path
This one dimension forbidding alternatives
Designating an end point
A reminder not to forget who you were, is who you are now
Made from pasts both good and bad
To celebrate our differences
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
Untimely,
The old woman's life had been made undying.
Her husband looked down,
Awaiting her with a frown.
And all the while the woman mirrored this frown,
And stared upon her velvet gown,
Looking for the words to fit her despair,
And causing stress upon her old hair.
The witch had found this to be her accomplishment,
Despite God's look of judgement,
Sealing the witch's fate,
Hanging her body like bait.
But still the woman sat,
With a velvet gown and a hat,
Hunched over on her rocking chair,
Playing with her gray hair,
Knitting more than just a shirt,
And feeling very hurt.
Her husband's voice still sounding fresh inside her head,
She killed herself and was laid upon her bed.
And God looked down with another sea of disapproval,
For a sin is a sin,
For a law is a law,
Her ghost drifted along,
Knowing this was wrong.
Her husband still looked down,
With a smile, not a frown:
For her wife had died for the chance to see him,
Even though she never got another chance to see him.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
If you was here
Where I was
You would be bashing your head
Several times against the desk
"Don't do this!"
"Don't do that!"
Oh **** off!
You silly old bat!
I know who I am
And I ain't changing!
If you think I am
From a tree you'll be hanging!
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC